Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
As my love will outlast this cup of clay celestial bound, yet not too far away return it to the purely surging stream from this course flows all lovers' hopes and dreams.
By Natalie Wilkinson2 years ago in Poets
I found your words in tattered ink, Folded soft where echoes sink. Each line a whisper left unsaid, A song unfinished, left for dead.
By Edison kings2 years ago in Poets
I like to sink my body into my bouncy mattress, And indulge in the warmth of soft cotton sheets; I like to feel my head sink into soft, fluffy pillows,
By Carol Ann Townend2 years ago in Poets
Love in Every Form Roses bloom in crimson hue, Whispers sweet and skies so blue. Hands entwined or hearts set free, Love is love et it be.
By Yetunde ogunseye2 years ago in Poets
Guilty pleasure we consume guiltlessly. our ancestors would argue we love loud and defiantly. "As St. Valentine so did decree, love those who love you endlessly,...
By Jessica jones2 years ago in Poets
Helping you To teach you Not helping To allow you to learn Praising you for your self-worth Confronting you for your self-awareness
By Marlena Guzowski2 years ago in Poets
I want my love To be on the cover of cards So that you see Our love represented and real Because our love, Is the realest thing I've ever known
By Oneg In The Arctic2 years ago in Poets
A beautiful fire With my two beautiful friends Who could ask for more...
By Colleen Walters2 years ago in Poets
The flowers, the candy, a walk in the park; wholesome desires inside of a card. The laughs, the kisses, a dance at The Hall;
By Alex Torres2 years ago in Poets
Hey! What are you doing for Valentine’s Day? No specific reason. If you’re not busy, would you want to come over? We can listen to love songs and make homemade pizza.
By Imani Walton2 years ago in Poets
We eschewed restaurants and flowers for wooden cabins among mountains rejected cards and jewelry for hearth fires in the enduring winter
By Kevin Rolly2 years ago in Poets
It's not for me that the blood flows to the eyes, to the ears to the fingers and toes It's not for me that breath goes through the lungs and the heart
By Noel T. Cumberland2 years ago in Poets
