I am a tennis player, so love means nothing to me.
(So sorry. Old joke. Couldn’t resist)
I love winter, driving hazards and hassles aside. To quote Sylvia Plath:
“…How she longed for winter then!
Scrupulously autere in its order
Of white and black ice and rock
Each sentiment within border
And heart’s frosty discipline
Exact as a snowflake…”
“austere”. :smack:
I love my daughter because she leaves me notes while she (and my wife and son) are gone to Colorado, where she tells me she loves me, she is praying for me, and how to make flavored coffee.
I love my son because he tells me how he beat his best friend playing “Fear Factor” by drinking tabasco sauce, neat.
I love my wife because she has blue eyes and can do more crunches than me.
I love my mother-in-law because she tells me things that sound completely insane but turn out to be true, sort of.
I love the people on my Mutual Ministry committee because they work so hard on things that no one appreciates, but are vital.
Etc.
Regards,
Shodan
The following sonnet, cold beer, good sneezes, lazy Sundays, worn out T-shirts, and waking up to kisses…
“But … don’t you love me?”
“Sure I do! Like I love Fresca! Isn’t that enough? The only difference between our marriage and any one else’s is: we know ours is a sham.”
Julie: He said that he loved me.
Helen: Men say that. They all say that. Then they cum.
aaaahhhhhh…AGAPE!
*As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I,
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun!
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.* - Robert Burns
I love my wife.
I love my sons - the oldest, who smiles at his daddy and loves to be picked up, and the youngest, who we’ll be meeting for the first time in a few weeks (when he moves from “warm dark and weightless” to “bright, mostly warm and hey, my diaper’s wet”).
Heck, I love a lot of folks.
This thread just makes you feel all warm and fuzzy, doesn’t it?
“…if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged hear and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart
And a song of paise upon your lips.” — KG
Fall not in love, therefore, it will stick to your face.
– "Deteriorara - National Lampoon
What is this? A hippie concentration camp? Did you guys hit the dope again?
When the moon hits your eye
Like a big pizza pie
That’s amore.
When the world seems to shine
like you’ve had too much wine
That’s amore.
I. Love. Lamp.
Hey! We’re on Threadspotting!
I love Threadspotting.
an extract of Choice by nocturnal_tick himself
We love the moon
But not as much as a spoon
Cos that’s more use for eating soup
She opened her eyes at morning
And found him there.
Loving the sun and air
Thru her eyes,
And feeling the rain with her.
Gently residing in her head
As she followed other pursuits
And engaged herself with others…
an excerpt of In Her Head by **smartini ** herself
**Mighty_Girl: ** What is this? A hippie concentration camp? Did you guys hit the dope again?
DOPE > LOVE
Dope
Cope
Cove
Love
:smack: Sorry, wrong thread
CandidGamera, are you just looking at random objects and saying you love them?
I. Love. Desk.
I. Am. Job.
“Into that fetid swamp of pain, den of broken heart
And sullen hopes, swampy pit of thought apart
From what you saw: reality. The truth you saw that set me free
With you alone. I did not see it in myself, but brought with you
And so, as I am given to, I praise the one to whom is due
All wonder, ecstasy and joy: love more than all unto
You, mine, who promised you
To me so long ago.”
(They really don’t write them like they used to. That wasn’t written long ago, obviously.)
::rune nekkid thru love::