I am a fool for love . . . yes I have tasted of its sweetness.
I ask myself how I could endeavor to adequately define its fathomless character...
My mind runs in circles pondering its personality.
I find myself in want for definite resolution; and yet, empty handed I stand with no solutions.
Yes, I am a fool for love . . . A fool so easily committed.
In my heart is hidden, such desires as not to be bridled.
We have jumped over the broom with joyous determination.
I suppose in our hearts we see a future full of possibility and I agree the stars are unlimited.
Look at them! count as you may; you will never know the number!
Must we grasp for what few straws fly in the wind?
Cut them near the ground and take hold of them by the handfuls!
Yes, we are fools in love . . . I daresay we are rather ambitious.
Forgive my indelicacies. I realize my brash confession may not be refined.
But I must beg pardon for the passion I feel and I ponder the love that seems so surreal.
I am a fool for love . . . Its true, I cannot deny its reality.
I live in this world that seems like a dream when I am next to you.
Though try as I might I cannot define this affection.
I feel its definition in the deepest aspects of my delicate soul.
How can I hope to convey this strange addiction?
May I call it an affliction?
Truly it must be an admission of a decision,
and altogether it becomes a commitment.
I am a fool for love . . . unsure of the road that lies ahead.
I beg the future to crack open its door so that I may peak but a tiny view.
Alas, I am contented with the blind mans view.
I should be persuaded to forgive the laws of nature for its impertinence.
But I cannot . . .
for surely nature itself cannot stop this undefinable aberration.
I am a fool for love . . . I am content with just a dance.
Quality time. Forgiveness when you don't deserve it. Care when it is most needed.
Warmth when you are chilled. A partner when you are loneliest.
love is only lonely if it has no one to share its ambiguity with.
Two souls must come to a mutual consensus.
Forsaking all preconceptions of what they think it is.
Clinging to the reality that once it is shared they could never truly take such a gift back.
Love is a gift of the most intimate nature.
Yes, I am a fool for love...
I feel its warmth in my heart in the most wonderful ways.
I may not be able to define it as Miriam or Webster would so desire.
But can such a summation adequately describe such grandeur?
No . . . no fool would try to bribe such a beauty from its power.
A woman knows, such as a man does know if its heart has been deceived.
Love cannot be deceived or deceive. . . it knows only truth.
Let the world tell its lies! I know in your eyes all the world is brighter when seen through you.
I am a fool for love . . . this is all I can say in light of the matter.
I have tried and failed to devise a description.
Every single notion has been for only commotion.
My heart is settled in the matter.
I am a fool for love . . . . My Darling I am in love with you.
It is as you well know a master of all my will power.
I desire nothing more than to share this quaint mystery with you.
Maybe together Miriam & Webster may one day have their answer.
"Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things."
-1 Corinthians 13:4-7
