Love is not always a flamboyant flame of passion.


Love is a quiet hug

at the end of a long day,

a row of jam pots in the kitchen,

a surprise vacation

or overtime work

to renovate the bathroom.


Poking him from behind so you both burst out laughing.

Keeping a silver-framed picture of her in your office.

Baking his favorite cake on his fortieth birthday.

Telling her she's beautiful in spite (because?) of grey hair.


Love is the perennial flower

which sleeps in the winter, but always returns to bloom.