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.