Stacks and piles, of a hundred files
Pages and pages, stored over ages
By the hopeless valetudinarian
Who believed with a shrug
That he had caught the love bug.
And what detailed log he kept.
Logged every hour he’d never slept,
And dreamed, while still awake,
Ten hours daily, give or take
Very specific, his symptoms said,
In cursive calligraphy they read-
“..Then shivered in the gentle breeze”
“..Was weakened in my wobbly knees”
But a symptom he’d never comment-
A slight speech impediment.
All the words he ever had to say,
In diaries were tucked, neatly, away.
And though the bug, that nasty pest-
Never really did manifest,
Left in silent heartches, marooned,
Yet never truly, fully, immune.
©Sai
13/2/21
Pic credit: Charl Folscher
Wonderful Sai..Love lost in the pages of diaries .
Sai, you have done it again. I am floored, no words needed.
Beautiful, beautiful , Finding love in pages
Wow! Wonderful, dear 💚
That was beautiful. Beautiful usage of rhymes💚
Really enjoyed it. Beautiful poem. Loved the rhythm. 💚
Lovely poem Sai
Beautiful
Thanks everyone
Wowwww💚💚💚
Fantastic. Mesmerizing verse😍😍
Beautiful, loved the rhyme
What a lovely take on the subject Sai!
You’re brilliant Sai! Such a beautiful take ❤️❤️
Beautiful poem, beautiful thoughts💚💚💚
Wow! Superbly written!
Superb! Wobbly knees, and all the imagery, but sighs and love stifled in diaries!