Love

This is probably the oldest poem that I have saved anywhere... it was written as an assignment for English class at the beginning of my sophomore year of high school.  Back in 1998.

It’s a quiet time, enjoying each other’s presence.
It’s a noisy time, playing games and letting the other person win.
It’s a happy time, laughing and snitching fudge.
It can exist in sad times, a quiet friend to hold and listen.
 
What is this stuff we call love, really?
It’s a river of peace,
It’s compassion and grace,
It’s helping hands,
It’s a smiling face,
It’s speaking your mind,
But knowing your place.
 
Love is the thing that draws us together,
Making families out of strangers.
Stronger than any stormy weather,
Holding fast through all dangers,
Come what may, I’ll always love you.