love poems
Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
Immature Love
A spark ignites, a heart takes flight, In moments quick, it feels so right. But fleeting as the morning dew, Immature love is fresh and new. It races fast, it burns so bright, Unsure of wrong, unsure of right. It clings with hope, yet slips away, Like summer sun at close of day. It dreams of more, but fails to see, The depth where love is meant to be. A love that’s tender, full of grace, But struggles in its youthful pace. Still, in its bloom, it holds a charm, Unaware of future harm. For even in its briefest glow, It teaches hearts to feel, to grow.
By Jagadeeswaran Selvaraj2 years ago in Poets
Idealistic Love
A love that dreams in perfect light, Of skies so pure, of hearts so bright. Where every wish, a star above, Guides the path of ideal love. No flaw can touch this sacred dream, Where hope and passion always gleam. A perfect world, without a tear, Where love is bold and free from fear. But even as the winds may blow, This love stands tall, it doesn’t slow. For in its core, a truth so deep, That promises the soul will keep. Idealistic, pure, and true, It colours skies a brighter hue. A love that holds the heart so high, With wings of faith, it dares to fly.
By Jagadeeswaran Selvaraj2 years ago in Poets
Craquelure
My word: craquelure - a network of fine cracks in either the paint or varnish of a painting. My connection: Well, I was going to choose crapulent, catarolysis or cockalorum as they would be quite funny. Then, I found craquelure. It made me think about my long-standing views on ageing and the high, ridiculous beauty standards placed on people, predominately by the media, big businesses, influencers and celebrities, or at least the culture and business they inhabit. Societal pressures to maintain unrealistic standards when ageing is something we all go through has never sat well with me. When I see lines on a face, I don't ever think I've thought "ew". I know that not everyone loves their lines, cracks and imperfections, whether age-related or stress-related. But, in my opinion, like craquelure that naturally develops on an old painting, the lines on a face and imperfections add to an individual, rather than making them less. Fine lines and grey hair should be admired and respected. Plus, does it matter what someone looks like? Like, really?
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
