A SENSE OF LOVE (A VALENTINE POEM)

Love
looks pale as primroses
hiding their promise
in tussocks of springtime
grass.

Love
tastes red as strawberries
dipped in sugar
shared, sticky-fingered, in
summer.

Love
smells of bonfire smoke
slightly acrid,
spiralling into crisp autumn
skies.

Love
is the touch of a hand
on your thigh
as snow whirls past a winter
window.

Love
is the morning blackbird
tuning up, spilling
jazz music across every season
of the year.