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by Alice Schellinger about a month ago in love poems
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A poem for Her

Photo by Ashley Ibarra on Unsplash

She is not merely made of sunshine and dewdrops and the taste of honey

Her voice doesn’t sound like the call of a nightingale, or the soft lullabies that mothers sing to their young

Her pale skin isn’t dotted with freckles that create tiny constellations on her skin

She is a product of celestial power,

those stars burning several hundred light years away

Her call is that of a wolf, and her song is that of a siren

She was forged in darkness under the waves of a churning, violent sea

and was found washed upon the rocks with nothing covering her but her long, dark hair

Her piercing amber eyes can see more than you will ever comprehend

“She is dangerous,” they will say

But she is much more than that

She is every desire,

every kiss,

every laugh,

every staccatoed breath and inhalation of intoxicating scent as skin meets skin under soft sheets.

She is the moon and stars, the vision of the Milky Way galaxy seen from a quiet place with no light pollution

So, be gentle with her.

Be careful with her.

Her love may be kind, and good, and warm

But her heart is battle-weary and scarred from all those years of being a beautiful work of art in the wrong hands.

Love her fiercely

And treat her well

love poems

About the author

Alice Schellinger

Poet and classical literature aficionado. Lover of the arts. Creator of short stories, poems, and articles. Hostess of The SchellingtonGrin Podcast.

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