All love stories begin with a discovery. This love story began when I discovered 5 beautiful postcards while looking through my grandmother’s collection of old photos. Looking through them, I realised they had a story – if put in the right order. Thus the challenge arose – to use each postcard as an inspiration for a love poem, and for all 5 poems to contribute to one love story. So I got to writing and decided to also capture images to visualise the five senses. Here are the results – maybe this love story is not specifically mine or yours, but it could be one day. Enjoy.

Sense of Sight | Part 1

a glimpse
a rarity
an absolute beauty -
I laid my eyes on her.
could one being
exist so exquisitely?
am I just dreaming?
she’s noticed me
the anxiety is overwhelming
how do you
come near a butterfly
without it flying away?
she turns her eyes
and bows her head
hiding her scarlet roses
I tried to be sly
slowly finding a way
to be the flower
she would want to land upon.
her colours
are brighter than mine
but even men can pray
for a little more sunshine.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
“men trust God by taking a chance;
woman trust God by waiting.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
so I did what I had to do
with burning in my chest
I had to try my best;
the overwhelming flames
would not distinguish my aim.
with a gentle whisper
I told you the truth
that your luminescence
has an uncontrollable presence
that should never be contained
and I ask you -
if it would be alright
if I share in your delight.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
you turned to look at me
with a soft smile
(your greatest artistry)
your eyes responded
they told me
the beginning
of a great love story.

Sense of Smell | Part 2

the nose has a gateway
to my most precious memories:
the fragrance you carried
that very first day,
(the first of many anniversaries)
the perfume that will always
remind me of you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I wish I could tell you
about all the feelings you’ve sparked -
but isn’t it too early to fall?
or do you feel them too?
because my heart’s already marked
and I don’t regret it at all.
it’s a challenge
to silence the doves in my chest
but you’re worth the wait
so for now I’ll believe in fate -
what have you done to me?
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
she’s the smell 
after the first storm
the only thing
that can keep me warm.
she’s the aroma
of frankincense
showing a great divinity
in her magnificent femininity. 
she’s also the aroma
of myrrh
I found a certain anointing
in our perfect joining.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
you keep yourself so unrevealed,
when will you lower your shield? 
falling in love with you
may be my greatest suffering;
always wanting more -
a hunger forever rumbling;
but I know that treasures
are only found
when they are deserved.
so, for you,
I’ll keep suffering
and one day
I’ll catch you
when you start falling.

Sense of Taste | Part 3

she tastes so sweet
her words drip like honey
the most luscious treat:
a syrup so lovely.
a celebration of your goodness,
the pleasure of your fullness,
the temptation for sensation
but the reward for patience.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
she tastes so bitter
reminding me of harsh realities
but somehow still a light emitter
for which passion will never seize.
never filled with jealousy,
only with peace heartily.
pungency can never divide us,
your grace is superfluous.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
she tastes so sour,
her acid is courage -
full of power
keeping me nourished.
like a citrus: my symbol of hope
an eternal life kaleidoscope.
like a lemon: bringing optimism,
diminishing all cynicism.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
she tastes so salty,
my sacred covenant
unafraid of living so boldly.
my ever-fresh supplement,
my salt, my rock, essential to life
her purification is rife.
my lady, my best commodify,
a worth higher than any money.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
this love we will savour
let us taste
the fruits
of our harvest.
may God have our favour
let us not haste
to water the roots
never starving
with Him as our artist:
love will always be our garnish.

Sense of Hearing | Part 4

she’s trying to hear
what her father has to say:
a moment filled with fear,
all she can do is pray.
in this instant
there is much more to notice
than sound.
even from a distance
she can see I’m devoted
waiting for him to come around.
she listens anxiously
while I shakily
ask him for her hand.
her father’s response
was perceived
in him touching my shoulder
he seemed to look pleased,
a much awaited closure.
it took him a while
to put words to his gesture -
with a tear rolling past his smile,
she felt even more pressure.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
finally,
and audibly,
she hears,
“young man,
there is no one besides you
that I want for my darling daughter
the rest of the family thinks so too,
I await the day of seeing you by the alter.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
unknown to me
she hears my response
but truer it could not be:
“sir, I have waited my life long
to receive this greatest permission
it has been my life’s mission.
I promise to keep her protected
and with her heart I’ll never be reckless.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
she breathes an air of calmness
a day she had so feared
was only filled with warmness,
her anxiety finally cleared.
silly girl
she thought
how could she fear
what is already written?
love will always find a way
and will never go astray.

Sense of Touch | Part 5

“you may kiss the bride”
a distant echo
as everything spins inside
when I kiss you
and it feels like the very first time.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
how can someone
feel so soft
and delicate?
but yet so strong
in her own sweet song.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I remember the day
I first laid eyes on you,
the day I heard you say
my name,
the day I smelt the coconut 
scent falling from your hair,
the day I tasted hazelnut
in your favourite treat at the fare,
and when I took your hand
in mine
and never
wanted to let go.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
and today I stand before you
as my lawfully wedded wife,
having so much to look forward to
spending with you the rest of my life.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I have to this day
experienced all five senses with you
but now I must say
there is another feeling
none of these senses describe
and it is much more appealing.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
this feeling in my chest
like God touched my heart
when our marriage was blessed
and yet this is only the start.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
now I understand why they say
love only comes on your wedding day
because you can truly
only love her
when you must carry
all of her fully,
when you submit your life
to a woman
(to your wife)
that is when love unravels
the decision to give her
everything
even through all of life’s battles.

All poems are written by Mila Ottavini. The postcards are all painted by Harrison Fisher.