Is love then sparked by but a simple smile,

Or on the sudden twinkle of an eye;

Some artful quirk that can the heart beguile,

A testing moue upon the soul to try?

A spate of laughter floating on the air,

A graceful dally spun about the room,

A single curl of sun blessed raven hair

Or wafting scent as from a summer bloom?

Perhaps by all of these, or none at all;

A grand gestalt or yet some locus prime,

A fancied web where wit and heart enthrall

To so entangle, trussed by one’s own mind?

It is but pleasured bonds that bind me so

Yet of what essence—I may never know.