Lovability
My love is like a winter garden
always fresh with splendid flowers,
always ripe and blooming
and expanding ever in lush generosity
never to let any flower of love die down
but keeping ever warm like any tender heart.
So what do the faults and foibles matter?
Of what consequence is shortcomings
and impracticability,
when love keeps burning all the same
and warming generously any heart
that sticks to faithfulness?
Forget the worldly matters
and let love just keep on burning
indefatigably and forever.
Actually, in the end, ‘unconditional’ is what your poem was saying. Clever of you to skirt around it and leave the reader to discern that.
Sadly much of mankind is blind to it. Clearly you aren’t. You have written this in a short but (to coin your word – much used in the Land of My Fathers) LUSH manner. It is lush with meaning.
Allen
PS: Did I mention it was lush? 😉