Get PDF Poetry of Love

A post shared by Tyler Knott Gregson tylerknott on Dec 17, at 4: Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly; Their beauty shakes me who was once serene; Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen.

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Only your word will heal the injury To my hurt heart, while yet the wound is clean— Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly; Their beauty shakes me who was once serene. Upon my word, I tell you faithfully Through life and after death you are my queen; For with my death the whole truth shall be seen. Some say a cavalry corps, some infantry, some, again, will maintain that the swift oars of our fleet are the finest sight on dark earth; but I say that whatever one loves, is.

This is easily proved: So Anactoria, although you being far away forget us, the dear sound of your footstep and light glancing in your eyes would move me more than glitter of Lydian horse or armored tread of mainland infantry. Love Is a ripe plum Growing on a purple tree.

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Taste it once And the spell of its enchantment Will never let you be. Love Is a bright star Glowing in far Southern skies. Look too hard And its burning flame Will always hurt your eyes. Love Is a high mountain Stark in a windy sky. If you Would never lose your breath Do not climb too high. I love you for what you are, but I love you yet more for what you are going to be. I love you not so much for your realities as for your ideals.

I pray for your desires that they may be great, rather than for your satisfactions, which may be so hazardously little. A satisfied flower is one whose petals are about to fall. The most beautiful rose is one hardly more than a bud wherein the pangs and ecstasies of desire are working for a larger and finer growth. You are going forward toward something great. I am on the way with you and therefore I love you. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee freely, as men strive for right; I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints.

I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death. Do you remember still the falling stars that like swift horses through the heavens raced and suddenly leaped across the hurdles of our wishes—do you recall? And we did make so many! For there were countless numbers of stars: Speak earth and bless me with what is richest make sky flow honey out of my hips rigis mountains spread over a valley carved out by the mouth of rain. And I knew when I entered her I was high wind in her forests hollow fingers whispering sound honey flowed from the split cup impaled on a lance of tongues on the tips of her breasts on her navel and my breath howling into her entrances through lungs of pain.

Greedy as herring-gulls or a child I swing out over the earth over and over again. I am ready to forsake this worldly life and surrender to the magnificence of your Being. My desire is always the same; wherever Life deposits me: I want to grow something. It seems impossible that desire can sometimes transform into devotion; but this has happened. I think I made you up inside my head. The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. This was the first ever poem I posted on instagram.

I captioned it "I am no longer allowing my poems to collect dust" and I was so, so terrified to post. I get tagged in reposts. People thank me for sharing my work. One step has led to another and I'm pursuing poetry full time! I say this to show y'all that success is always on the other side of fear. Make the first move, and keep going. I've progressed a lot as a writer, and seeing my growth is one of the most fulfilling feelings ever. I'm moving in the direction I set.

There's so much power in that. A post shared by Aman K. Batra amankbatra on May 3, at 2: When I cannot look at your face I look at your feet. Your feet of arched bone, your hard little feet. I know that they support you, and that your sweet weight rises upon them. Your waist and your breasts, the doubled purple of your nipples, the sockets of your eyes that have just flown away, your wide fruit mouth, your red tresses, my little tower. But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me. Edit of an older poem.

Bluebird Typewriter Poetry 7 poetry seanbates typewriter writersofinstagram. You and I Have so much love, That it Burns like a fire, In which we bake a lump of clay Molded into a figure of you And a figure of me. Then we take both of them, And break them into pieces, And mix the pieces with water, And mold again a figure of you, And a figure of me. I am in your clay. You are in my clay.

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In life we share a single quilt. In death we will share one bed. O never give the heart outright, For they, for all smooth lips can say, Have given their hearts up to the play. And who could play it well enough If deaf and dumb and blind with love? He that made this knows all the cost, For he gave all his heart and lost. It has no shape, it has no form. Love is not an object. Love does not conform. Love is everything the poem says and so much more. It's constantly putting those you love before yourself and anything else. Throughout your life you'll forget many things, but never the Sweetheart, have you ever thought about how beautiful our relationship is?

I wonder if it is possible for couples to be like us So open to each other. You, the man I adore, loving you is a pleasure, not a chore; hearts beating together, lust and passion so fine; I'm glad that you are mine, mine, mine. Hey you, so handsome sitting over I think of you in the morning before the sun rises, when in the still of the darkness my heart feels your presence. The best poem I've read in a long time and I love poems: I'm grateful this morning For so long, I wished for the day.

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The day that our love would find its way. From my heart and into your soul, The feeling so strong, I had no control. I am in love with a girl, it's been five years now but we're not dating yet. I've been trying to show her how much I love her. It's really hard for me, I don't think I can be in a In your arms, I'm in my safe haven. With you holding me tight, I have no other craving. Hello dear, Have I told you yet how much you mean to me? You're my heart, you're my soul, and you're like the moon which shine down to me days and nights.

I have seen your love, touched it, Since the first day we met, I knew you were the one. God answered my prayers; You came down from above. This poem speaks to my heart and is word for word exactly the way I feel for my one and only, my hubby! Thanks to this poem, I am able to share with my hubby just how much he means to me! She can be a handful. Yes, this is true. But you won't look at her In the ways that I do.