Show WHAT WE IS LOVE love writes tile editor of an all eastern paper pap cris is at first an all illusion allot aint thell it ft delusion 1011 9 vc ine citny just who this editor is nor in ill what paper the lie quotation appeared but we will bet our KO go tu to ineat in boiled shirt that lio lie wiilus ra I 1 its backwards and tillit instead of good red blood thoro flows though his veins tile the sourest of vinegar probably somewhere back in his pt purple irple palpitating tating past there wits it girl alio passed liim hint ly by and married the other fellow tind and ever since the carli corking inge canker anker of crabbedness lius has acen well enting eating away and eating uway at that which once beat as his bicart lovo love ti a delusion ly all tile goldell sunny ringlets on oil thy the brow of cupid by al all I 1 the th sweet Bwee lips blips blidt ever puckered into a rosebud to receive tile the kiss of a lover we swear that lovo love is no delusion does docs a delusion tit inako a ke the world go round Is the blue sky an all illusion Is it an all illusion our cardiac station goes nil all aflutter at the soft whispered words of tho the sweetest girl god over made i Is it jill an illusion when we thrill in ill every nervo nerve if a tiny soft velvety hand chances cli ances to linger just for an all instant in ill ours lis is we look into it i pair of eyes whose limpid depths make inake tile profundity of the ocean ocea 11 seem shallow sli allow as a mud puddle Is it an all illusion alien the very marrow ili in our spinal column freezes if we hear tear eliat THE girl lias has a date with another felloe Is it an all illusion when slie site buries lier face behind tile liap el cl of our coat shyly nods her 1101 little blead and answers yes when wo we ask lier ter tile greatest guestion in ill the world Is it Is it wo we should say not I 1 love is the concentrated essence sence of goodness sprinkled lipon tile tender petals of cryst alired violets it comes sky hooting too tit ig down front from tit alie high heavens on oil a L mellow moonbeam beani entwines its silken about your fluttering uttering ll heart until your breath comes in short quick ecstatic gasps and your soul just seems to to float away on oil a billow of oani motile to alio 1 island iad of rosebuds wid orange blossoms love an all illusion it is noto NOT and believe us ual we know weve tried it often enough |