Dear Honey,
We're it not for this gonely pandemic,
I would physically purpose to journey
At speed so supersonic
To be with you honey.

But now so sadly quarantined
Cold loneliness and panic
Wastes away all the adrenaline
Our jovial hearts would have,
In secret adventures happily
Vented.

And now my love tonic,
My hands though thouroughly sanitised,
Have nothing tender to touch
And though a glowing longing torments
I've to do with no chest to line on.
So the fiery frustrations
Would as wild fire consume me.

But for this hallowed art,
I refuse to bow to the evil schemes
Of this gonely elf
Threatening to tear us apart.

I take a flight into the sacred fantasy;
And invite you to do the same.
So out tender souls in our imaginations meet,
And like comets explode upon collision,
In Sparks of fired pleasures,
In luminous heavens of love poesy,
Where the envious demon can't reach
But we entangled can mock his utter failure,
At shutting our world down.

Then and only then my rose
Will we prove to the entire world;
That flesh can indeed be quarantined,
But Love's so spiritual to quarantine.