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What’s love?
When does it happen?
Where does it go?
How does it grow?
Who owns it?
Why do you speak of it?
Is it fiction or non-ficiton?
Does it come from the heart or the mind?
Love is true, love is bold…
Love is something hard to hold.
Love is soft and nice;
but can also melt like ice.
Love goes from heart to heart.
Love is owned by everyone.
Love is spoken by every poet,
every important person,
and every other person too.
Love is fiction,
and at the same time non-fiction.
Love comes from the mind,
and it also comes from the heart.
All young ones love,
as old ones do.
Love is hard to get to;
but sometimes it may be hard to get through…

Go, lovely Rose—
Tell her that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.

Tell her that ’s young,
And shuns to have her graces spied,
That hadst thou sprung
In deserts where no men abide,
Thou must have uncommended died.

Small is the worth
Of beauty from the light retired:
Bid her come forth,
Suffer herself to be desired,
And not blush so to be admired.

Then die—that she
The common fate of all things rare
May read in thee;
How small a part of time they share
That are so wondrous sweet and fair!

Teenage poems by Ashley Mclean
The first thing I think of
When I think of you,
Is your wonderful smile.
The second would be your adorable laugh.
I could go on and on,
But the list would never end.

When I think of the short time
That we’ve been together