LOVE' LABOUR'S TOSSED
Love can be any of the following: ardent
affection, a strong liking or interest, or a
handy antonym for hate. By definition, the
meaning of this mellifluous state seems
quite exact. And it is just that.
I should like to describe it to you. Love
is colourless, at least not green, yellow,
or even maroon. But it can be blue. It is
tasteless, but offers a flavour sweeter than
any other. Love is odourless, yet it's aroma
is more bountiful than a hundred fields of
wildflowers. Love is not a place, still many
have been in love. Love may be found in
abundance all over the world. It is man's
greatest emotion.
Love has brought man his greatest joys.
When he was lonely it brought him a wife.
When he tired of her, it brought him children.
It was the tool that bound together his
family, his country, and ultimately
the world. It would seem, then, that the utmost
pinnacle of human endeavour is a contradictory,
tangible-intangible state called love.
However, love is not true-blue beauty
under all circumstances. The intra-family
ties break down when love is found to be
"that other woman". Sometimes men love
their own breed to the extent that others become
victims of debauchery and prejudice.
Behind the highest mountain can hide the
deepest gully.
Even though love is a hypocrite, I would
still say all four-letter words aren't bad.
Wouldn't you, love?
- - Dennis Farmer, 12A
[ Nina Keough ]