— Herensuge —
The dragon with sweet, tempting breath.
I slay dragons at night while you sleep.
I see by the way your face contorts how they exist in your dreams.
Willing a magic sword, I plunge into your deepest nightmares and swing at the beasts with all my might, dodging flames exhaled by monsters that would eat me alive to go on torturing the fair one I love. I see your face relax, eyes still drowsily closed, when the mighty dragon is slain.
It may be that my fingers rub soft circles on your forehead as I imagine my brave fight as a knight reclaiming your dreams. You smile under the spell of my touch, and I am rewarded. And so, my love, as I await the dawn, I stand ready to slay dragons while you sleep.
It seems my heart is made of tissue paper; I wish the world would handle it more delicately.
I love you for a great many reasons and despite a great many others.
People search the world over looking for someone to love them, when they should be searching for someone to love.
“If you were to sacrifice even a portion of yourself for the relationship, you would naturally fall in love with him. I guarantee it.”
Love is donating a chunk of your life to patch up holes in the life of another.
The rarest, truest beauty is visible only to the heart.
The real beauty of a woman is most clearly seen in the smiles of those who interact with her.
If God were to make a million lovely flowers in your image and plant them in a garden with you among them, I would still know you by your scent and by the feel of your petals and by the crazy way you lean towards my light whenever I draw near.
“My knight may not wear a coat of shining armor, but his code of glowing honor will never fail to protect us both from evils far worse than any fire-breathing dragon.”
“I love you” sounds best spoken in quiet acts of kindness.
Love in its essence is unconditional. When conditions, exceptions, and ultimatums are cast into the mix, its purity changes. It is no longer love and should be referred to by a less-desirable name.
Amore is love
confessed to you in haiku.
Do you love me too?
When I ask you to be my valentine, I’m not asking you to love me. I’m simply asking you to accept tokens of my love for you.
When you love someone, you don’t care that she ate your sandwich. You only hope she found it delicious.
Copyright 2017 Richelle E. Goodrich