Love is not merely a meadow on a summer’s day
Nor a rainbow after the thunderstorm;
Love has deserts of burning sand,
Jagged mountains with cliffs and abysses:
Love knows all extremes and demands the uttermost.
The landscape of love is as varied as the Earth itself,
And contains more than the Earth can hold.
Its treasures and its beauties,
Its horrors and its dangers,
Its kindnesses and cruelties
Are magnificent and terrible,
For Love has the power to destroy
As well as to create.
The paths of Love are steep
And filled with flinty stones
Overgrown with briars, roses tangled with thorns.
Love is the gruelling race
As well as the laurel wreath,
The battle
As well as the victory feast,
The crucible
As well as the molten gold.
catterel 
Beautiful whilst also tricky to navigate 🙂
But you’re an experienced sailor 😀
And I have the wisdom of your far reaching poem 🙂
Insightful, beautiful and at the same time hauntingly painful. You captured the emotions well.
Thank you Susanne – love hurts!
Nothing worth having or experiencing is ever easy, including love.