Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
Love is the energy of our souls. Love is our inner Practice. To stay who we are. It's the power to never stop looking and loving the perfect person.
By Joe Bou Khalil2 years ago in Poets
In the hush of dawn's first light, When the world is painted in soft hues, I am still waiting for you today, As the morning sun gently cues.
By Halima Begum2 years ago in Poets
Love comes like a gentle breeze Sowing so much love and nostalgia in our hearts The heart is shaking, lost in the days Touching each other's souls, love cannot be expressed.
By nhuphan2 years ago in Poets
A faded envelope, timeworn and creased, Holds within its folds a piece Of a heart, a whispered sigh, A story told, a tear-dropped eye.
By CHRISTIAN P2 years ago in Poets
Gentle whispers on the windowpane, Softly falls the evening rain. A lullaby of droplets, light, Dancing in the fading light.
### An Odyssey of Hearts #### Part 1: The Awakening In the dawn of a distant morn, Before the world was born anew, I saw you, a glimmer of light,
By Easy Win2 years ago in Poets
### Eternity in an Instant #### Prologue: The Dawn of Love In the beginning, before time's embrace, When the cosmos were but whispers in the void,
Once Upon A Time, two souls met at a market. She was buying essentials, he was restocking his fridge. The twinkling lights above flared to make them bump into one another.
By Angel Adagio2 years ago in Poets
Imperfectly grand. Perfectly flawed, imperfect notions of perfect. —- The world is so sure it has all the answers- forgetting one thing.
By Colleen Walters2 years ago in Poets
A world of washing, waving Nostalgia hanging on the line Nesting in my memories Immersed till my soul feels fine Vanishing into a feeling
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 years ago in Poets
Sweat on my brow, concrete under my feet. The sounds of the city drown out my thoughts. A wandering tourist in a heat wave searching for distractions.
By Amanda McGuire2 years ago in Poets
Will I see it tonight; I mean your pussy’s might, As it glistens and slowly opens like a book, Which had touched many minds, stooped towards the moonlight,
By Patrick M. Ohana2 years ago in Poets
