Saturday, August 30, 2008
Love has no desire but to fulfill itself. To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.
Let your love be like the misty rains, coming softly, but flooding the river.
Love is like dew that falls on both nettles and lilies.
A man is not where he lives, but where he loves.
Love does not care to define and is never in a hurry to do so.
~Charles du Bos
Love is a canvas furnished by Nature and embroidered by imagination.
- ▼ 2008 (40)