Lines Written In Early March Poem by Timothy Faboade

A drop in the sea I may be
A waft in the wind I may look
And dafter my wit to you looks
I have in me hope of a glee.

Your milder tongue is a fire
Burning me, making you mad
Your fresher lips are so dire
Thorning me, painting you bad.

Your salivas are stronger than a bomb
Sweetnening some hearts, sending me to tomb
For you think there is nothing I can have
Gladdening some hearts, condemning your half.

Many more drops can make a big sea
A load of waft can make the wind retire