The Hues of Love

Oh! 

The emotion called Love,

How is it?

That there are many hues of it.

       The pitter-patter of raindrops,

        And the smell of the damp earth,

        Reminds me of the fresh,

        Blue green Love.

The warmth of My mother's hug,

And the memories of sunny noons,

With her apply oil in my hair,

Reminds me of the sunny yellowish Love.

       Oh!,

       My dear old Love,

       Your rude and crude manners too,

       Remind me of the Reddish brown,

       Jaded with age but still,

       Going strong Love.

My babies cry for their mothers,

Give me the feel of,

The soft pinky Love,

Like their skin was,

When they were but wee little balls.

        Which do I choose?

        Which do I not?

        Can anyone choose at all?

        For all are dear to one and all.