love poems
Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
Ode to Our Love
What are these songs of love, That they spring from the heart, The lovers warble calling out, Of squawking pain passed in time,
Michael GallegosPublished 7 years ago in PoetsI Did It
Every night, I thank my lucky stars for what I have in my life, As I look around, I fought and made it in life, I beat my odds that were pulling me down,
Crystal KorpanPublished 7 years ago in PoetsFive Years
Our FIVE year anniversary today, feels a lot longer, with all our experiences in life. We know each other a lot better now.
Crystal KorpanPublished 7 years ago in PoetsAngel's Birth
One single tear down my cheek, I feel a presence begin to leak. My eyes are open wide, and gaze upon my own blood and flesh.
Cat JenningsPublished 7 years ago in PoetsI Feel You
I feel your hand on my forehead, So warm and soft. I feel you stroking my hair, So gently and nice. I feel your heart beating,
Karri DuperronPublished 7 years ago in PoetsResentment
What do you see When you look in my eyes Is it the pain of resentment Contentment of situations That desire change Strange connections
Janae WilliamsPublished 7 years ago in PoetsTime to Be
Time to be, I have with joy. That a heart in pounding, There is a sense of me. With me, I know; There's a measure in a measure,
Michael GallegosPublished 7 years ago in PoetsSpent
Familiar curves incline descend into a garden boasting passion-laden fruit satiating fierce appetites of dyad souls
J.T. WellingtonPublished 7 years ago in PoetsTrue Love
True love is never instant. As time goes by relationships are valued more and more each day. True love isn't easy. As with anything in life, it brings hardship. It is how these hardships are faced that builds character. It shows the true strength of your love.
Muriel WeathersPublished 7 years ago in PoetsPockets of Time
These Pockets of mine. They're pockets of time. Filled with joy, soaked in sorrow. Half empty with love, half filled with a shadow.
JAHAN ZABEPublished 7 years ago in PoetsHomeward Flight (Spain)
As he passes, the man with three children and the tired wife rolls his eyes at me. Briefly, we connect. His look says simply:
Michael McIntoshPublished 7 years ago in PoetsMy Great Niece
My great niece, little miss Bethany. I am your great Aunt Crystal. You might not remember me. I am writing this for you. Soon you'll be turning three, you look so much like your mom and dad.
Crystal KorpanPublished 7 years ago in Poets