What is love?

There is a time, a time for love.
Love comes, but can be over in a moment.
But remembered, remembered always,
So take the chance, once past these
moments can never be regained,
Life moves on;
Love, Love you all demanding, all consuming,
all destroying.
With passions that delight the body but
devour the mind, put thoughts in confusion;
make right and wrong indefinable.
Love, love makes the rules;
Love is cruel, selfish, blind heedless
of consequence.
For if just one face can fill your mind,
one smile, one look across the room,
elate your every sense, then this is love;
perhaps unattainable to touch, but
without words or terms, you are as one:
Love is life, without it there is nothing.
But if this face can bring torment, anger, pain!
Can this also be love?
"the question is irrelevant, the answer in
the heart, for indiscretions, faults, are
overlooked; in love the eyes are closed and
see only what they wish."
Love is many emotions:
But if when you met this face, this face
who's lips arouse, who's hands caress, who's
body fulfils: your senses reel, all is past,
time stands still: then this, this is love.
Love may remain, or grow cold, but "tis
better to have loved and lost, than to
have never loved"