The Blooming Of Love

The blooming of love is a beautiful thing
And of the praises of love many do love to sing
But the love often the quickest to bloom often the fastest to die
Wise words from an old sage and surely not a  lie
It is true about love it is  a beautiful thing
And of the praises of love many do love to sing
But the ending of love often gives rise to tears
And a bitter sorrow that does linger for  years
There are many forms of love  as we know all too well
And everyone of love have their own stories to tell
For as long as in her body there is living breath
The mother she loves her children till her death
And though love it has inspired song, story and  rhyme
Some forms of love do not last for a  long time.