What is this Love, Actually

What is this love we seek to find and hold? It twists and contorts, resistant to enfold. A surprising elusive shadow, that pops up from the mist? When we least expect it, to enlist when kissed. This love actually, defies logic and common sense! For whom we love, truly deeply is beyond any pretense, Any hope that its stickiness can be shed, With a flick, a kick, a denial, once, twice said. Love is persistent, won't go away, or fade. Its inception is the exception that once made, Is burned or carved into a tree trunk or rock, As an emblem, a shout, broadcast around the clock. For love is a joy, a delightful happenstance! A meeting by chance, then with poise, to prance and dance.