When the tale is true though stoneyhearted
Love is in the static lips of fine friends
When the tale is told since stars were charted
Love is in her laughs the tale depends
When evenings include two vodkas, not four
Love is in the nightcap of bedtime stories
Love is to wear a gift of soft velour
When you meet the giver for savories
Love is to learn, from land or sea or sky
Comes the beast you honor in your belly
Love is to commune with trees and magpie
Comes the burden Mother’s tenants carry
Love is beyond rose or prose or coffer
With such tributes done for one another
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