We do not sing each other love songs
Or write poems or prose on Hallmark cards
We never bother with red roses
Or give surprises on special days
We do not go to fancy places
Or lock our hearts on lover's bridges
Instead,
We listen to birds sing to our hearts
Speak with fondness that need not be penned
We plant seeds that grow with seasons
Make memories on just normal days
We take long walks on the countrysides
And leave our shoe prints on the dirt tracks
No,
We do not speak of love, not really
But tonight, the moon was beautiful
The flowers in the garden have bloomed
The scent in the air carries longing
That I thought of you, quite far away
And finally wrote you a love poem.
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