Would you be my January

And make my year new?

Or my February

And make each day valentine?

Be my March

And let me celebrate you as a woman.

How about my April,

And I'll be your fool?

If you May,

I promise you'd have a child to celebrate.

Reveal yourself as my June

Let the rain wash away your tears.

Would you be my July,

And let it rain again?

Be my August

And also my break,

My September

And my summer.

Be my October

And also my sunshine.

November sounds nice

So you could start my winter.

I'll love you as December

So Christmas can come early.

Just before you tell me, no

Let me whisper a secret into your ear.

I will never let you go,

so please, make my year.

Not too far away, the discussion between two men

Established through window holes pierced the tense atmosphere.

“He wants a million today” lamented one

whose voice battled it’s way out of a mask.

“After the avaricious pocketing of thousands?”, inquired the other

“What can we say? His rapacity robusts daily”, concluded the first

As his fingers caressed a bead on his rosary.

#COVID_19

There was a man who lived in a big house across the street. One day, as he was walking by, he saw a lady sitting with her legs crossed. He shouted at her, “Stop looking like my table spoon!”. She asked him “how do you mean?” he then replied, ”Because you are sitting with a spoon beside a table”.

I will never leave you alone.

I will be with you from dusk to dawn.

I will be there to kiss you good night

And to wake you with a kiss.

I will help out with the dishes

And also with the chores.

I will be by your side while you watch your favorite T.V show.

I will sing your favorite songs with you

And spend the day admiring you.

When anything goes wrong,

I will be there to fix it.

Baby, I will be right here.

I will not go anywhere

So you will have no chance to miss me

It is not being romantic

It is because I am locked down with you

So I have no choice!

#compulsory_romance

If love is a drama,

Your heart holds the script.

If love is a song,

Your lips house the lyrics.

If love is a flower,

Your body is the bloom.

If love is fire,

Your hug blows the heat.

If love is blind,

Your kiss leads the way.

If love is crazy,

Your smile made it so!

If love is war,

Your breast is safety.

If love is dead,

Then You are it’s reincarnation!

Fire is hot,

the Sun is hotter,

you top them all

.

.

.

.

.

These days

Houses are without rooms,

Brides without grooms,

Plants with open roots,

People travelling on foot,

No child in school,

Formal education thrown into the pool,

Everything is on fire,

Our music from machine gun fire,

Everyone seems mute,

People questing an escape route.

These days

No one is sure of the next hour

But everyone desires a tomb decorated with flower,

Peace is a thing of the past,

Every hour is announced by bomb blast,

Roads are beautified with tiles

Of dead bodies laid in piles.

Some as a result of hunger,

Others, victims of the war’s anger.

Severe body ache

Chronic joint pain

Dim eyes, dull smile

Pounding headache

Feverish shiver

Total weakness

But all vanished

After a hug from you

_LOVARIA_