Month: September 2019

Perhaps it’s that time of the year,

Bees dancing in an infinite loop,

Heaps of fortunes thrown into hoops,

Laughters and chantings, greetings,

And swearings, all blossoming from roots.

Ah, it must be that time of the year

My feet are grounded deep into the groove,

Petals of flowers prance around loose

Perhaps gust of wind’ll knock on window

Perhaps sun’ll be the only witness you are right.

9.9.2019