True Love

Too late I learned the nature of true love,

Discerned her subtle graces from above,

Not in the passion of a wild youth,

Or in man's obsession for the truth,

Not in his lust for games and manly sport,

Projects with cogs or bytes of any sort,

But in the essence of a mother's tears

The caring that defies the unsaid fears

The living for the other, not the self;

For them the centre and for us the shelf.

Peter M. Grinham © January 2012