Therapy Bits

It’s not just roses wrapped in red,
Or candlelight where words are said;
It’s knowing when to take their hand,
Without a script, without a plan.

It’s coffee brewed before they wake,
A whispered joke for laughter’s sake.
It’s seeing storms inside their eyes,
And staying through the thundered skies.

It’s holding space for who they are,
Both near at home and when they’re far.
It’s quiet acts, not grand displays,
That speak of love in subtle ways.

A letter slipped beneath the door,
A glance that says “I love you” more.
A song remembered, softly played—
A promise not to be betrayed.

Romance is presence, deep and true,
In things you say, in things you do.
It’s choosing them, again, again—
In fleeting joy, in silent pain.

So if you ask what romance means,
It lives in life’s unspoken scenes—
In tending fires that time may dim,
And finding poetry in them.