Love is the arm that warms you
on a cold, wet, Winter’s night
Love is the memory of his face
in her heart when he is out of sight
Love is the arms that reach out
to help someone in need
Love is the old and trembling hand
that yet nurtures a tiny seed
Love is the smile on a Mother’s face
when her child lies in her arms
Love is the force that drives a
Lover into those waiting arms
Love is the golden rings
that upon her finger glow
Love is reading the letters
that he penned so long ago
Love is cherishing those memories that
can overcome grief
Love is - quite simply -belief

I couldn't tell my minds yet
Maybe I am not perfect,
I keep you in my little heart,
but I am a failed poet!

I have found the moonlight
on your happy face first,
I am always ready to fight
for you my sweetheart.

I would be a romantic cricket
and sing for you tonight
to make your dreams sweet,
Then you will feel me, I bet.

My night dreams
will come true
in the morning,
if you come with me
for early walking,
my sweet darling!

My day will shine
with your love
as like a rousing,
if you smile at me
like the blazing
sun, oh my darling!

My work will find
a perfect rhythm
in your feelings,
if I reach your hands
in the late evening;
I miss you, darling!

A tragic result of this virus
is our fear of others’ breath,
of being right next to death.
Yet when poets breathe
it is the words they leave
that render light and life.

May we again
on our faces feel the wind,
a gale of passion
a tickling breeze to tease
our imaginations and wit.
May we soon smile
or even laugh in a little while
and be close enough to hear whispered
a naughty limerick
or an intimate loving verse.

i see your breath,
cold calling,
i must confess,
it’s shivering.

a pale dew,
from your lips,
thirty-two,
and falling.

looking back,
i’m painted blue,
your exhale
was resisting.

Come to the river
The river knows everything
It contains all shades
Jasper, emerald, sapphire
No past, no future
But a deathless present is
There. Swim and know all
From the mountains to the seas.
Intimate secrets
Are reflected to the sky
Listen closely to its cry

Forgive
The one, who brings hurt
One day you may forget
The hurt

If people understood people
Wordlessly, it is understood
Words never conspire
It is the thoughts

Sever what’s unsavoury
Separate,
weeds and seeds
Plant what you can feast on and feed

🌿🌿