Love’s Clichés

Apparently (according to Take That and others) it only takes a minute to fall in love.  I might not make such an extravagant claim but I know where they’re coming from.  I too have fallen in love in the blink of an eye, at the drop of a hat, out of a clear blue sky (although, in fact, the sky was neither clear nor blue).

The songsmiths also say that love is a many-splendoured thing and they’ll get no argument on that from me.  As the sky became a clearer blue, the splendours became more visible and my love grew.  It was indeed all around.  Could it be that this was a love to last a lifetime?

I think so, though only time will tell and hindsight will be a wonderful thing.  I do know that my love has not altered and has looked on tempests without being shaken.  And I can (and often do) count the ways I love.

The object of my affection and desire is strong and independent; has hidden depths and a head in the clouds.  In light and darkness my love is fascinating, beguiling, all-consuming.  And will endure forever.

Ah, Norway!




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