love poems

Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.

Inside Out
She hides a hunger That burns like fire Hiding there under A secret desire Igniting the thunder That fans the flames higher
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden3 years ago in Poets
From vows to haunt
Once, the cuboid closes I’ll stand alone just holding roses. --- The misty air, of fresh soil’s scent a patch of grass
By G. A. Botero3 years ago in Poets
Keys
My keys don’t jingle jangle They’re a tale of tales A web of confusion Sewn to protect what I hold dear A tool A mechanism
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
Over You
Ask me in December if I'm over you; ask me in December if I forgot the things you do. November will be early, love - By then it won't be true.
By TheSpinstress 3 years ago in Poets
Exile
Exile By Aranna Hasan Delwar. Now I want exile, exile From that desolate evening, From those long sleepless nights, From the fading mornings,
By Aranna Hasan Delwar 3 years ago in Poets
April Showers
The Magic Of Spring Planted A Seed, And The Thought Of Flowers Started To Sprout Vividly… I Think Of The Moment ls With You And Me…
By HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)3 years ago in Poets
Sight of lamp recalls me the Moon
Departed from the moon, knowing that I won't see it again, for sometime. One day so suddenly, a lamp came across, my sight.
By P.A.Vinura Jayasanka3 years ago in Poets
The Last Line
I’ve been the last line to many Just another pretty penny A daring glance A lark A shot in the dark A tree that harkens you to rub against its bark
By Atomic Historian3 years ago in Poets
God’s Going to Trouble the Water
Like her foremothers in times of peril, she wades in the water, eyes turned to the heavens, whispering Holy cantillations to the Lord. She beseeches His throne from her soul, assiduously pouring out her alabaster box. Tears fill her eyes as the hymn of her prayer leads her deeper into the river.
By Anne R.3 years ago in Poets
The wanting
I can't adjust my hearing. I love your harshness. Your brash, loud noise. I want it all inside of me. It feels that it was always a part of me, but just misplaced like an old sock missing from a pair, hiding in plain sight. My frantic, religious terror is yet still a trauma I have only healed from with, of course is ironic, your very harsh and persistent kiss.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
The Looking Glass
I see you through the Window pain, I feel your pane Of heartbroken glass I’ll do what I can Praying that I’m enough to
By Colleen Walters3 years ago in Poets
What if he's not serious?
us Just us. together Me and him. talking But I am not sure. Do I agree? He loves me. Yes, I understand. But I am not sure if I do.
By Nelo3 years ago in Poets