love poems

The level sands and grey,
Stretch leagues and leagues away,
Down to the border line of sky and foam,
A spark of sunset burns,
The grey tide-water turns,
Back, like a ghost from her forbidden home!

Here, without pyre or bier,
Light Love was buried here,
Alas, his grave was wide and deep enough,
Thrice, with averted head,
We cast dust on the dead,
And left him to his rest. An end of Love.

"No stone to roll away,
No seal of snow or clay,
Only soft dust above his wearied eyes,
But though the sudden sound

Of woman was I born, and man I am.
I come to teach the greatest, yet the most meek
Of all true lessons which man e'er can learn--
God's man was made to love, and nought to hate,
Except the Ill which God and angels hate.
Oh! this grand lore hath fallen on my heart
Like smiling sunlight on a gloomy ocean.
Oft have I heard and felt great throbs of love
Vibrating through the universe of worlds,
Through every grain of matter, through the hearts
That live and swarm beneath the eye of God.
Oft standing mid the holy calm of night,

Oh! he was a student of mystic lore;
And she was a soulful girl
All nerves and mind, of the cultured kind
The paragon, pride, and pearl.

They loved with a neo-Concordic love,
Woofed weirdly with wistful woe.
They sat in a glen, remote from men,
Their converse was high and low.

"What marvellous words of marvellous love,
Speak marvellous souls like these?"
I drew me nigh till their faintest sigh
Was heard with the greatest ease.

"'Oo's 'ittle white lammy is 'oo?" breathed he;

He faced his canvas (as a seer whose ken
Pierces the crust of this existence through)
And smiled beyond on that his genius knew
Ere mated with his being. Conscious then
Of his high theme alone, he smiled again
Straight back upon himself in many a hue
And tint, and light and shade, which slowly grew
Enfeatured of a fair girl's face, as when
First time she smiles for love's sake with no fear.
So wrought he, witless that behind him leant
A woman, with old features, dim and sear,
And glamoured eyes that felt the brimming tear,

O, gather me the rose, the rose,
While yet in flower we find it,
For summer smiles, but summer goes,
And winter waits behind it!

For with the dream foregone, foregone,
The deed forborne for ever,
The worm, regret, will canker on,
And Time will turn him never.

So well it were to love, my love,
And cheat of any laughter
The fate beneath us and above,
The dark before and after.

The myrtle and the rose, the rose,
The sunshine and the swallow,
The dream that comes, the wish that goes,

"Love is a many splendid thing."
that's what someone said,
but don't ask me who.

Love is different things
for different people,

but for me,
love is about
being there
for someone special,
and about them
being there for me too.

I love my Mum & Dad,
and yes, my brother too,
and all his family,
and all my other relatives,

all my close friends,
and the other ones too,
who I only see now and then,

I love Annie on 2XX,
who I've never even met,
who just talks away

Love is:
walking through the park
holding hands,
kissing,
cuddling,
hugging,
great sex.

No that's just a fantasy.
But it's a great fantasy
of mine,
and one that doesn't
impose any stereotypes on anyone.

So I'll hang onto it.

We would like to suggest that you try reading this poem backwards,
line by line.

Here I sit,
on my bus,
seated behind
a vision divine.

She is young
and beautiful.
But mostly she is
a nubile,
young thing.

She looks
a little tired,
but young at heart.

She sneezes.
Will I say
" Bless you" ?
Perhaps not.

Oh, I pine for
the days when
she may have been mine.

She is truly
a vision of
loveliness, divine.

Love died here
Long ago; -
O'er his bier,
Lying low,
Poppies throw;
Shed no tear;
Year by year,
Roses blow!

Year by year,
Adon--dear
To Love's Queen -
Does not die!
Wakes when green
May is nigh!

Angel-love,
Fairy-love,
Wave-love,
Which will you choose?
Angel-love . . . golden-yellow and far white . . .
Fairy-love . . . golden yellow and green . . .
Wave-love . . . scarlet and azure blue . . .
Which will you choose?

I will keep them in a box
Locked with a twisted key.
I will give them to people who need love,
I will let them choose.
Fairy-love blows away like leaves.
Angels I know little about.
For myself I choose wave-love
Because of the wind and the sea and my heart.