If there ever comes a time
When I don’t remember who you are anymore
Then just dance with me around the house
And give me a sunflower
Tag: love
Quantifying
You asked me once
How long forever was
I know now
It’s a second without you
Feeling Love
I’d write a poem
Strike a note
Cook up a storm
And run a marathon
For you
And I’d also be content doing absolutely nothing at all
With you
Because at the end of the day
It all boils down to one thing and one thing alone
You, you and you
Valentine’s Day
A day of love
A day for love
To die for love
To die of love
All possible
All plausible
Choose instead
To give love
All day
Every day
The Month of Love?
“Have you eaten?“
“Text me when you reach home?”
“What are you upto, cutie?”
“Haven’t seen you online in a long while, all okay?”
“Guess what happened today?“
“You’re meeting me this weekend. Period.”
Love resides between the spoken and unspoken
Love survives in all things big and small
Love pushes us and pulls us through
Love teaches us the meaning of life
Emancipate
After a lifetime of being bound
By the promise of love
I’ve now come to realise
Love is free
Love is freeing
Love is freedom
Omni
In this and in every other language
Neither here nor fully there
And yet, somehow, everywhere
Subtle and bold
Never doing as it’s told
Young and old
Sometimes warm, sometimes cold
Love is what love does
Love does what love is
And binds us all together
Pot Pourri
I no longer press flowers between diary pages
Marking important events
To be forgotten for years at end only to fall apart as dust
No, I display dried flowers in vases all around my house
Quite proudly
Wilted and shriveled yet capable of beauty
They no longer need to be locked away
Into secret corners of my memories
And when these flowers start to disintegrate
I turn them into pot pourri instead
Spreading their fragrance anew
Twinning
It’s ironical
Isn’t it
How identical
We are
For I love to crush on you
Even as you crush me
Definition
The bane of my existence and the sum total of every burning desire. The curse of my sins and the purging of my soul. The depth of my being and the echo of my heart. The best of all seasons and the worst time of the day. The innocent laughter of a child and the intentional deceit of fallible men. The turning of tables and that of the tide. The glistening of morning dew and the shattering of the sea. Living in every moment only to die every night.
What is love, you ask?
Moonlighting Scrivener 