Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
Beneath the moon’s silver sigh, I wander— a silhouette cradling shadows, half-alive. The wind hums, Remember, remember… but your name dissolves like smoke in my throat,
By Peter Robert2 years ago in Poets
We are not stars aligned; We carved our own constellations. We drew maps across the divine to make our hearts each other's destinations.
By Bethany Larson2 years ago in Poets
Grá, A thing desired but never gained My lonely soul, my broken heart Screams daily to feel it just once Why is love so hard to find?
By Savannah K. Wilson2 years ago in Poets
Is my heart broken Or simply a half waiting to be whole? Is my love a token Even while waiting for the mate to my soul? My heart is yours
Cascading waves of blue surf drink hungrily on the beach, as the tide rolls in, over bone-white bodies— nude, in the sun-dappled foam.
By Tom Baker2 years ago in Poets
Acorn's Fate A seed sleeps beneath the ancient loam, An acorn destined to rise and roam, To stretch its limbs toward heaven's skies,
By Katie L. Kashan2 years ago in Poets
MARRIAGE THOUGHT One day, I will meet the one I love, Dream of making her my wife. I will wait, patient and unwavering, For her choice must be precise—
By Victor Jackson2 years ago in Poets
The stars still shine, but not for me, Their glow is cold, their light set free. The whispers once so soft, so true, Now fade like mist in morning dew.
By kumar02hemant2 years ago in Poets
In moonlit dreams where soft winds sigh, I hear your voice like stars on high. A melody so sweet, a song so true, Every note speaks of me and you.
💔 The Price of Separation 💔 Beneath the moonlit, silent sky, I drown in memories, asking why. You belong to someone else today, Yet my love for you won’t fade away.
By ANITA2 years ago in Poets
A rose in a vase, a gift in your lap; a smile on my face (and you gave me that). One knee on the floor waiting for our dance;
By Alex Torres2 years ago in Poets
When you say hi I’ll always reply. There never was a question. I’ll buy you small gifts, flowers, more, Money is just a concession.
By Amos Glade2 years ago in Poets
