Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
My Baby Girl, The Light in Mommy's World. My Precious gift from above, You fill my heart with so much love. A dream come true, Oh how much I Love You. You're an answer to prayer, For you, I will always be there.
By Heather Hanson7 years ago in Poets
See it wasn't supposed to be like this.. well it wasn't planned. Simplicity In conversations of "wassups" and "heys" transitioned into life talks and pure truth.
By Sydney robinson7 years ago in Poets
I covet the rose that grows in the spring, That makes lovers dance, That makes lovers sing, The rose that grows into a marvelous thing,
By Malena Lopez7 years ago in Poets
What is it about her that makes you appreciate every curve including the one on her face. What is it that makes you talk a mile a minute... till you're blue in the face and yet controls you to the point you say nothing at all.
The silence is my friend, For I cannot say something dumb Or to offend. But to my right You sit, completing the test. This test is the nest of
By Ethan Lochridge7 years ago in Poets
There is that moment of silence When you are expecting an answer Any answer And if it does not come immediately It seems like an eternity
By Bobby Deese7 years ago in Poets
I loved you once, I love you still. My heart beats understanding that what was Yesterday was so today could be Opportunity
By Regina Stone-Grover7 years ago in Poets
So our dog, Kippur, He thinks he's human, that he's in charge. When we're wrestling, You cannot tell who's side he is on, who he is protecting.
By Crystal Korpan7 years ago in Poets
As the last leaf falls, I dream of you. When winter calls, I miss you too. Daylight slowly fades to gray, Snowflakes falling, here to stay.
By Elizabeth Mustain7 years ago in Poets
The Start, how do I start? How about the station? Eyes uncontrollably dashing side to side searching for her. A few hundred, how could I be sure she is the one? I dont know but I just knew.
By Michael Ogilvie7 years ago in Poets
You, for love of whom I am become as new-dug clay Mold me... With the waters & the wheel of yourself shape my soul, for it is yours.
By Torey Seymour-Russell7 years ago in Poets
What I am seeing is quite explainable. Although the placing of it is not always obtainable. The creation of its appearance is maintainable.
By Paul Crocker7 years ago in Poets