Barefoot and holding hands
On a lonely street of the winter lands
Making misty hearts into the void
And capturing the perfect polaroid
Yodelling on the top of her voice
As he gazed at her with rejoice
It was love, the truest kind
And every distance was cruelly pined
Now in two different distant lands
Were born beautiful letters with love bands
Often decorated with tear blotches
And sometimes even perfumed notches
For these lovers, presents meant nothing
For whom it was worth everything
What was craved most was their presence
To experience it within a beautiful silence
And soon the day shall arrive
And with happiness they shall jive
With crimson flowers adorning her hair
And his laps would be her chair.
~AS
Hello, there! I was in the mood for some good old sappy-old-school love poem and I ended up with this. I really hope you liked it. Also, I am not a huge fan of the Valentine’s Day because I feel the celebrations are a bit overrated, BUT that cannot hide the fact that I am a total old-school romantic! So I have dedicated this month to write about the kind of love I believe in and maybe try to do some justice with it. Please feel free to connect with me on Instagram too. Thank you!