To be measured?

· by · in dVerse, poetry. ·

My love can not be measured
in the bloom of roses red or
in the sweetness of a summer cherry,
but as an artichoke in autumn.

My love is not as a breeze in June
grazing leaves and blossom
but resilient as the aching oak-tree
standing tall in winter-wind

My love is never soft as silk,
or as expensive Egyptian cotton
but rough like a mended linen-shirt,
frayed from all my daily use.

My love has not grown from wine
with sole meunière at fancy French café
but from a slow cooked stew
potatoes and a pint of beer.

My love has aged into a wish
of sharing tea and walks in silence
sharing less in words than
in gestures and which path to go.

Artichoke
Fujishima Takeji

Today will be the last time I will wrote in a while, and today I link up to Sanaa at dVerse prompting us to write about Love in the way it may eveolve into more complications or maybe as it matures. For me I thought it would be great to write it more in negations than trying to define it.

February 17, 2026

10 responses to “To be measured?”

  1. This is beyond beautiful, Bjorn! I especially admire “My love is never soft as silk, or as expensive Egyptian cotton but rough like a mended linen-shirt, frayed from all my daily use.”

    Thank you so much for writing to the prompt ❤️❤️

  2. I love all the sensations and attributes of love that the imagery builds on, Björn, especially

    resilient as the aching oak-tree
    standing tall in winter-wind

    and

    My love has aged into a wish
    of sharing tea and walks in silence

    All these show the quality of maturing love so beautifully.

  4. Bjorn I adore your ‘anti-romance’ poem, as, paradoxically, it makes it much more romantic than the clichés rejected. And you are so right- only people who are truly comfortable with each other can share silence without it feeling heavy 💕

  5. “My love has not grown from wine
    with sole meunière at fancy French café
    but from a slow cooked stew
    potatoes and a pint of beer.”

    i have heard it say, the way to a man’s heart is through the stomach🙂

    much love

  6. Such fine elucidations about what Love is not and/or cannot be clearly helps define what it is. Great stuff, Bjorn. Hang in there, Bro.

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