If It Ain’t Love
everything was surreal like a honeydew in blue
when you whispered silently with a smile
“i love you”.
everything was surreal like trickle of enchanting snowflakes falling softly and gently on a hot summer afternoon.
there were flashes of colors and joyous sounds of music playing like New Year’s eve in November morn’.
there were angels singing heavenly songs in their perfectly oh so good voices like we were in a magical realm.
and i couldn’t agree more with poets and romantics alike that love is indeed in between magic and reality.
for how else would you call the butterfies in my stomach everytime you gave me that sweet loving look of longing?
for how else would you explain the fact that i am truly, madly, passionately in love with you head over heels?
if it ain’t love, then i don’t know what else to say.
For NaPoWriMo Day 7
And now for our (optional) prompt! Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that argues against, or somehow questions, a proverb or saying. They say that “all cats are black at midnight,” but really? Surely some of them remain striped. And maybe there is an ill wind that blows some good. Perhaps that wind just has some mild dyspepsia. Whatever phrase you pick, I hope you have fun complicating its simplicity. Happy writing!
“Real love is what you feel it. You see it, and you show it! But fake love is just made of words”
for Eugi’s weekly prompt: