love in the time of coronavirus

Our love in the time
of coronavirus is
thousands of miles away,

my tourist visa got
cancelled before it sees
the light of another Indian day,

his feet are planted,
prohibited to fly to Malaysia’s sky,
because it is safer that way,

in the end, perhaps, nation
gates are needed to be locked
to keep the virus at bay,

regardless of the many
hearts sleeping on empty beds,
dreaming on sadness’ sleigh,

regardless of some pair of hands
burdened but enduring,
without home-arms to rest and stay,

like our love in the time
of coronavirus, parted
thousands of miles away,

but we are both here
filled with more love,
blessed on our own way,

at the back of our
surrendered hands—
a constant prayer,

to be inside a
single roof together,
one day. One day.

Note: Title inspired by the classic novel Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
03.2020
©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

space of seas

Tonight, I want to stay.
No, I won’t go away.
Your midnight scent I will inhale.
Until the moon breathes another day. 

Tonight, I want to stay.
Oh, let not distance take me away.
The sun will smile, either way,
so please, just let me stay. 

My left-hand hangs incomplete,
without your right.
The space of seas between our souls
just doesn’t feel right. 

So please, don’t be astray.
Tonight, with you, I’ll stay.

r. c. gonzales – roy | page 103 of Poems for S
Sharing with you some excerpts of my poetry book, Poems for S!
Kindle and paperback available here: https://amzn.to/379k2Qd

Mockup for Facebook image_v2

©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

again: an aubade

My clingy heart
has never been fond
of the dawn’s pending fog
everyday sitting
outside our window,

drinking its daily
sunrays-made tea
as it waits
for the official ending
of our last night’s

nectar-sweet tryst.

Another day,
another sun,
I have to wait
for another moon
to inhale your scent

again.

r. c. gonzales – roy | page 77 of Poems for S
Sharing with you some excerpts of my poetry book, Poems for S!
Kindle and paperback available here: https://amzn.to/2CSrGAU .

Mockup for Facebook image_v2

©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

SinceRely

My heart saw you before my eyes
How beautiful is it, right?

Like nightingale, I heard your song
like moon-sent, sweet goodnight.

From miles away I felt you long
before our nervous hands touch.

Tonight listen to my soul’s notes,
they are for you, my far love.

©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash
For dVerse OpenLinkNight #256
Excerpt from my poetry collection Poems for S, available in Kindle and paperback here: https://amzn.to/2CSrGAU .
Mockup for Facebook image_v2

 

soon, my love

Faint, fainter, faintest,
goes the winky cars
passing by.

Dark, darker, darkest,
goes the moonless
November sky.

Soft, softer, softest
goes the notes
of lullaby.

Sleepy, sleepier, sleepiest,
goes the tired city
whisp’ring goodbye.

Soon, sooner, soonest,
I’ll be near,
as another day dies.

11.06.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

Written while listening to Sara Bareilles’ City as my heart yearns for my he.
For dVerse Quadrille Wink

 

Aurora

15

Aurora: An Aubade*

Colors changing
from dark to light,
sun and moon shifting
from dull to bright,
stars disappearing
goodbye black night,
I lie awake waiting
for you to comeback.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Unsplash.com

Word Inspiration: Sarah Doughty of Heartstring Eulogies (Thank you, Sarah!)


*Aubade

Alba or Aubade (dawn song) is a love poem, specifically the parting of lovers at dawn. Conflict between love and responsibility is at the center of this poetic genre.

This genre dates back to 12th century France and is the counterpart to a secular Evensong, Serena or Serenade.. The name Alba comes from the medieval watchman’s cry “alba” announcing the passing of the night and return of day. The early Occitan troubadourpoems ended each stanza with the word.

The Alba or Aubade is:

  • a love poem, most often mourning the parting of lovers while extolling the coming day.
  • constructed at the discretion of the poet, length, stanzaic form, meter and or rhyme. although often a smattering of rhyme is present without any particular rhyme scheme.
  • dramatic since it is often dialogue between the parting lovers or coming from a cuckold husband or a watchman’ warning. Sometimes dialogue is silent, expressed in images.