poems about love

  VERSE

I weave with brightly colored strings
To keep my mind off other things;
So, ladies, let your fingers dance,
And keep your hands out of romance.
Lovely witches,
Let the stitches
Keep your fingers under control.
Cut the thread, but leave
The whole heart whole.
Merry maids can sew and sleep;
Wives can only sew and weep!

  REFRAIN

Falling in love with love
Is falling for make-believe.
Falling in love with love
Is playing the fool.
Caring too much is such

Thanks for the memory
Of candlelight and wine,
Castles on the Rhine,
The Parthenon and moments on the Hudson River Line.
How lovely it was!
Thanks for the memory
Of rainy afternoons,
Swingy Harlem tunes,
And motor trips and burning lips and burning toast and prunes.
How lovely it was!
Many's the time that we feasted,
And many's the time that we fasted.
Oh well, it was swell while it lasted;
We did have fun
And no harm done.
And thanks for the memory
Of sunburns at the shore,

Long long ago on Calvary,
There hung upon a cross
A lifeless figure given in love
To whom was written "loss."

A Roman soldier tough and hard
Fought back a silent tear,
And women stood and wept aloud
'Twas more than they could bear.

His words and works were full of love,
His life a sacrifice,
The mob was as pitiless--the priests
Triumphant with the price.

But God is love, and righteousness
Won over worldly strife,
For Jesus Christ arose again
To everlasting life.

VERSE

Beautiful miracle,
Pardon my lyrical
Rhapsody,
But can't you see
You've captured me?
Being so glamorous,
Can't you be amorous
Just with me?
Make it soon,
Take a look at the moon, ooh . . .

REFRAIN

Love is just around the corner,
Any cozy little corner,
Love is just around the corner
When I'm around you.
I'm a sentimental mourner,
And I couldn't be forlorner
When you keep me on a corner

VERSE 1

Wonderful!
Oh, it's wonderful
To be in love with you.
Beautiful!
You're so beautiful,
You haunt me all day through.

REFRAIN 1

Ev'ry little breeze
Seems to whisper " Louise. "
Birds in the trees
Seem to twitter " Louise. "
Each little rose
Tells me it knows
I love you, love you.
Ev'ry little beat
That I feel in my heart
Seems to repeat
What I felt at the start.
Each little sigh
Tells me that I

(B. G. DeSylva and Ballard MacDonald)

VERSE

When this world began
It was Heaven's plan,
There should be a girl for ev'ry single man.
To my great regret
Someone has upset
Heaven's pretty program,
For we've never met.
I'm clutching at straws,
Just because
I may meet her yet.

REFRAIN

Somebody loves me,
I wonder who,
I wonder who she can be.
Somebody loves me,
I wish I knew,
Who can she be worries me.
For ev'ry girl who passes me
I shout, " Hey! maybe,

The little wild birds have come flying
From beyond the sea, the blue sea;
The little birds go fluttering
About the bushes, over the open field:
All have their mates and rejoice in love.
Only the good youth, Alexandrushka,
A homeless orphan in the wide world,
Grieves like a pining cuckoo,
And melts away in burning tears.
The poor lad has no one,
No one in the wide world to fondle him, —
No one ever brings joy to the orphan,
Uttering words of kind endearment.
Should he go out into the open field,

Little things I'll give to you —
Till your fingers learn to press
Gently
On a loveliness;

Little things and new —
Till your fingers learn to hold
Love that's fragile,
Love that's old.

VERSE

I have a feeling,
It's a feeling
I'm concealing,
I don't know why.
It's just a mental,
Incidental,
Sentimental
Alibi.
But I adore you,
So strong for you.
Why go on stalling?
I am falling,
Love is calling,
Why be shy?

REFRAIN

Let's fall in love,
Why shouldn't we fall in love?
Our hearts are made of it,
Let's take a chance,
Why be afraid of it?
Let's close our eyes,
And make our own Paradise.

Let the bird of lowdest lay,
On the sole Arabian tree,
Herauld sad and trumpet be:
To whose sound chaste wings obay.

But thou shriking harbinger,
Foule precurrer of the fiend,
Augour of the fevers end,
To this troupe come thou not neere.

From this Session inderdict
Every soule of tyrant wing,
Save the Eagle feath'red King,
Keepe the obsequie so strict.

Let the Priest in Surples white,
That defunctive Musicke can,
Be the death-devining Swan,
Lest the Requiem lacke his right.