Love is the closet thing to magic

Love is magical though not real magic
Love is something found or something that’s lost
Either it is peaceful or it’s tragic
Like a summers day or a Christmas frost

It is a mad terrific obsession
Or a soothing innocent playful smile
Trying hard for a good first impression
It is something worth waiting awhile

It can strike you in your very own heart
Shatters your mind to little glass charades
Or love can be a dream to never part
Open and free never to hide in shades

Love is close to magic and you may think
But magic, perfect and love, running ink