It comes not in a jar,
Can not be boxed, placed in a sack.
There is no recipe,
No cookbook, no formula to concoct.
There is no raffle,
No lottery, no auction to crave.
It’s no magic potion,
No spell, no wand you can wave.
Very often there’s pain
It slashes, it slices right down to the bone.
Frequently it’s blind,
It’s crippled, it’s stunted as others have shone.
But more often than not it results in true bliss,
It’s passion, it’s love that is tops on the list.
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~
Dom DiFrancesco 
Very rhythmical poem!!
Thank you my friend. I didn’t initially intend it to rhyme, but it just happened. 🙂
Reblogged this on Steve's Blog.
Love the poetry my friend. Keep up the great work!!
Thank you Steve, and thank you so much for the re-blog, it means a lot to me. 🙂
Wonderful Dom! Thanks for stopping by today.
Thank you my friend, it was my pleasure and I certainly will be by again. 🙂