Love Endures Poem by Mark Heathcote

My life is an appendage of yours
when we're together, there are no more brochures
or flirting innuendo—overtures.

Don't you get it, what's mine is yours.
Okay, I've nothing, but our love endures
every-now-and-then I feel it, I mature.

And with a little faith, all else procures
believe-me, there's-no-one else who allures
me as you do, and that's what reassures.

Okay, we could take some detours.
Spend a night beneath some coiffures
and run naked over the moors.

But truly lust, desire only obscures-
our true unquestionable lures
honestly, darling, nothing but love endures.