The Value of Love
What is the Value of Love, you ask?
Tis folly to seek that which has no substance, said they
For what is of value unless it can be locked away
Stored safely in a vault or under the watch of a trained watchman
Or inventoried and shelved among other items of worth
Counted and kept orderly under the rules of those
Those who engage in the business of substance
All things orderly and categorized and certainly with equality
That is the way of things worth anything, said the collective they
But I digress, for that which lies at the heart of the matter
Are the matters of the heart and the feelings that matter
And when presented to the counters and men who keep watch
The ones called they and them and those types stand stoic
Lost are they as if blinded and unable to process sound
As if the things which inspire hold no position among them
What standing can something hold if it can’t be held?
How may we measure that which is without substance?
So says the they, for their truth is shallow and materialistic
Lost to the ways that were never within their discovery
Adamant that value is finite and must be calculated
As the they and the them repeats and doubles their efforts
For what is the value of love when it holds no space?
Nothing to measure, compare, combine, or collect?
No size or shape and void of motion or matter or construction?
And as if to render a final commanding argument
Tis folly they say as they do often do, to put feelings first
Neither second nor next or anywhere in the counted list
Tis a time when time is lost upon the fool in love, they say
To give credence to that which isn’t bonded and correlated
As if the mere thought of anything beyond a bound text
Or written compact, agreement or bill of trade
Might serve to bring the freedom and magic of true folly
Where excess and imperfection collides with wild abandonment
When the wispy fingers of souls reach across the chasm of infinity
Hours passed lost in the vision of beauty found in a moment
Eternities forsaken for but a veiled glance or gentle smile
Words spilling forth as if woven by the sun and the moon
Professions of passionate moments and perpetual engagements
But rejected soundly and with a boisterous moment of closure
And yet, so are the ways of the them and the they
Who reject the heady enlightenment of loose control
The folly of nights spent in embrace and softness
That is the way of the watchers and counters and the those
Those who cannot fill the empty lines and spaces
The they and the them who disavow the eruption of color
Unless it comes in the shade of green, gold or silver
The ones who see but never truly engage their sight
For the them and those and full gatherings of the they
I’m without tactics and strategies to render the discussion favorable
And since nonesuch logic will be anything near acceptable
It must be that I should break protocol and shout above the business
To empty my lungs of all that which must be stated
I say unto each and to all, how do you love?
What number do you assign to a lifetime of bliss
When one and one do not equal two, but equals one
Surrendering that which is safe and secure in a vault
For something which has infinite value to those who aren’t part of the they
Giving everything over to feelings and trust
Commitments with nary a document or signatory
How shall you score the rushed flutter of a first kiss?
Or the second, third, and waterfall of them all
Count them you may, but for nothing more than counting
None carrying more value than their counterpart
Cast off your ambitions for wealth and substance
Take off the cloak of your economy and yourselves
Embrace that which has warmth and a beating heart
Taste the flavor of passionate passion and the hot heat
The licking flames of burning desires shall fuel you
With a sweated brow and my breath still uncaught
I looked amongst the gathering of the cabal of they
Eyes lost to what I had spoken and head shaking
And as no one stepped forth to speak, I continued
But for a moment as I prepared another soliloquy
One gentle soul did cough and then sheepishly whisper
What shall you do when your pockets are empty?
When you have no coin nor paper to trade with?
And your accounts are below the balance line?
With a slight smile, I offered a retort of personal fame
My good man, and those who stand among him
I have infinite wealth; her name is Shannon
She fulfills my life as no other could or would
I have loved her through this lifetime
And I shall love her again in the next
She feeds my soul and cherishes my self
I remember the taste of her in every moment
Her breath is always warm upon my chest
Each embrace is part of my forever memory
Each second an infinity of new worlds being created
My memories are filled with a collection of smiles
I hear her whispering across the universe
If only to say that she is missing me
And making sure that I’m safe and free of pain
And when we’re together, we are unstoppable
Her delicate, beautiful, radiant wonderment
It still stops me halfway in stride in wonderment
For ours is a love like no other
Author’s Note – Explaining the Value of Love
This poem was written for my wife Shannon, who is my everything; my heartbeat, my muse, and my soulmate. Throughout my writing career, I have put the two of us in different times, different worlds, different cultures, and more. This episode is a time when wealth was the focus of every young man; think early America at the dawn of the Industrial Age. As the world changed into an industrial-based society, men made their fortunes and we’re not shy about telling the world how rich they were. I pictured myself as a young man with an eye for love, rather than an eye for money. I spend much of the piece trying to convince the money-men that love had more value than anything kept in a vault or under lock and key, but to no avail. Finally, near the end, I can almost picture myself standing on a desk in a crowded financial office, professing my love for my wife Shannon and how love exceeded anything else from a value proposition, only to be met by blank stares from the men who only cared about money. I overly use the terms they, and them, on purpose, as to create a stereotype approach that shows an imbalance with most men of the day being in love with wealth rather than a beautiful woman. Thanks for reading!
Additional Works from this Author
Romantic Poetry Published on The Gypsy Thread
My Complete Catalogue of Written Works on this site
- The Value of Love - February 19, 2021
- Time Passes, Seasons Change - December 30, 2020
- The Hustle and Bustle of Holiday Shopping - December 21, 2020







A wonderful piece of writing Ralph. “They” appeared so detached from love through your writing it almost felt like reading a legal document, except for your show of devotion for Sharon which transcended everything else.
A wonderful and expressive poem,. You are lucky to have found your soulmate and the emotions shoine through in your verses.
Beautiful poetry.