love poems
Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
The Clockmaker's Lyric
In the small town of Varnhollow, nestled between old hills and restless winds, there lived a peculiar poet named Eliot Bramble. His house was the last one on Gable Street, a crooked cottage bursting at the seams with paper, clocks, and copper wires. He called himself a “poet of precision,” and he believed every verse had a mechanism — a rhythmical gear, a tick-tock of emotion — waiting to be wound.
By Ashikur Rahman Bipulabout a year ago in Poets
