Love, in a way… Yes, I suppose you could say; I’m not sure I know In a definitive way What love is, really. Is it Love? — In a way… Well, it’s not that I’m dreaming You’ll take me away, To some fantasy island Where all will be play. More, I would say, Like wanting to soften The blows you are dealt. Like wanting to waft Some pleasure your way, Perhaps some sun On a cloudier day. To share, for awhile, What I tend to call Life’s little pleasures – You could use a few, You’ve earned them I know; You deserve them, you do. Yes, pleasure. That would be it, I suspect. Whatever it takes, It takes nothing away, From an otherwise Less than perfect day.