love poems
Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
The Ink in the Wind
In a small village nestled between the green folds of the Valleys of Vareen, there lived a poet named Elian. He was not a man of fame or fortune, nor was he particularly charming or bold. But his words had a way of slipping into hearts like rain into thirsty soil.
By Ashikur Rahman Bipulabout a year ago in Poets
The Shape of Joy
Her fingers curled around my thumb— not out of reflex, but like she knew I needed holding too. A half-sleep smile brushed my chest, soft as breath, gone as quickly as it came. She pressed her cheek against me, the way stars press into sky— weightless, certain, at home. Joy spoke in morning babble, in ceiling fans turned wonder, in giggles breaking through the fog of sleepless hours. It lived in the stillness between tasks, in the moment I didn’t record but fully felt. Joy is learning to sit, to see the world from new angles, to say mama without saying a word. And me— I am learning too, that even in the ache, we are growing something holy.
By Carolina Borgesabout a year ago in Poets
A Bloom in My Heart
A bloom has risen within my chest, It blossomed despite my silence and unrest. Like a promise whispered from afar, Perfuming time like a falling star. I was nothing but a fugitive of yearning, My sails pulled by winds ever turning. Yet you arrived, a hidden light, Undressing the dark, revealing the night. You flowed into my dream like rain, Quenching my thirst, easing the pain. I whispered, “Welcome, love once lost,” Returned without a reason, without a cost. Come back to where our hearts once stayed, To the soul that wept, the hope that swayed. I searched for you in every beat, You live in me — in silence, sweet. Come back; there’s no escape in flight, No cure in sips that bloom in blight. The flowers drank from tears once shed, In a time inked by what wasn’t said. And when my heart felt your faint glow, It danced again, let longing flow. It cried, “If only I had been The hand that caught you, not what’s been.” You came like magic, soft and wide, A blaze that rose with gentle stride. I'm the tired soul adrift and bare, Who lost your trail in empty air. I etched your name in every wall, And drew your ghost where ashes fall. Will you return to my fading flame? To save this world from sounding the same? I love you — has a poet said These words and not been left unread? I love you — read them in my eyes, Where silence sleeps, and longing lies. I'm sleepless, waiting for your breath, I even miss your silent wrath. Let me see you — even in dream, Where memory lives, and shadows gleam. Let me melt in a fleeting trace, As if your smile could time replace. My silence grows — my hands now sing, With sorrow's voice... without a string. Return, and maybe time will mend, And life will bloom where it did end.
By Ali Sadeek Ahmedabout a year ago in Poets
