Petrichor In November Poem by Renny Puspa Sari

When love is like a petrichor on the drought heart in November,
who can smell?

When love blooms like a white lily in the rain,
who can deny?

When love turns into a little smile such a little raindrop,
who can tell?

When love colors a dark grey heart to a rainbow heart,
who can lie?


When every laughter waits such a morning dew,
yes it is such a bless.

When secrecy becomes the storm clouds of this love,
it still looks so bold.

When every glance seems like a short lightning in our heart,
yes only us can sense.

When the unspoken love sounds like a hard rain,
it never let this love unfold.


Love is too drunk, but we stay sober.

Yes only us who can smell the petrichor in November.

Advisedly it won't end in December.

Surely it will last forever.