Love Poems

. My Pensive Valentine Devout Love is not in the offered sweet, nor does Love proclaim in the proffered rose, nor the cliché tucked tight in a bouquet bought sight unseen, not in any of those mundane nudges and gestures, of one day, of one month, of each year, does...

. Lines for Your Valentines Without you here, my life is like A broken pencil, simply pointless. And if you tell me to take a hike, My legs won’t move, you’ve made them jointless. When I got up today I sneezed And God blessed me with seeing you. What’s that...

. The Great Rub-off Norm and Zip, in mismatched chairs, __were sipping tea and talking, when Desi, their loyal hound, said, “Listen, __you’re shedding like me!” (How shocking!) Norm spat out his quinoa, __Zip spat out her tea. Desi howled with laughter now: __“Just sayin’. Don’t blame me! And, by...

. Libra There in my hand I held a crystal vial Of distillation potent, red, and sweet, By which my broken heart was put on trial, And golden apples scattered at my feet. Ask not the name of him who gave to me The dark elixir, nor the price I...

. True Love On a hill far away, a true love waits, In a place of weathered, broken gates. And though the gates are falling down, One place on the hill is hallowed ground. Nothing moves on that faraway hill, But dry, dead leaves and a wind that’s chill. And...

. To Her Ghost: a Sequence from Orpheus Looks Back ---in memoriam Emily Desire Gaynor Rothman, 1964-2020 . 1. Breaking Open A sonnet tells the lover’s tale becauseIt is the lover’s sonnet. Lovers loveTo talk about themselves, making what wasSupposed to be a labor of their loveInto an avatar of...

. Death Is But a Passing A death is but a passing from one world into another, A change of state, a change of place, a starting to discover, A test of fortitude perhaps for those I leave behind, A change of worlds, a change of views, another state of...

. Imitating Shakespeare’s Sonnet 107 . Sonnet 107 __by William Shakespeare Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul Of the wide world dreaming on things to come, Can yet the lease of my true love control, Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom. The mortal moon hath her eclipse...

. Telepathy Your reticence to speak is no deterrent To my delight to be in your vicinity--- Presence and chatter need not be concurrent; Lack of the latter won’t change my affinity For your dark liquid eyes: I’d rather plumb Their depths at leisure, while your lips are dumb. ....

. In a Twenty-minute Tuk-tuk Ride That day, the river of our luck had dried. No taxis. Air-conditioned buses crammed with half the town. Just when I said, "We're dammed," a tuk-tuk by the roundabout defied my words. Its backseat, partly occupied by an old couple, still contained enough capacity...

. Madrigal à la Tasso The surface of the lake reflects the flight _Of one and then another swan; _How it would add to my delight __To know where each has gone, _As when, my love, I look upon Those rapid thoughts which pass from left to right _Across the...

. The Force of Dreams I dreamed of you last night.  I dreamed and dreamed, Yet more, as if there never had been dreams In me before.  Reality it seemed Had never been reality.  Green dreams Of Eden never could have been like you There in this night of nights....

. Catullus XI Furius and Aurelius, my two friends, Whether I go to farthest India, The shore by ever-pounding Eastern seas Beaten by tide-waves, To Hyrcania, or Arabia’s pillowed ease, Scythia, arrow-bristling Parthia, Waters commingled with the seven-fold River of Egypt, Whether I climb and cross the tall cold Alps,...

. Coupled in Rhyme She sees me better than I do, so in her sight I strive to be worthy to lie with, never to lie to. She knows me better than my best, brings comfort to my days, makes manifest the loving balm of actuality; in her calm embrace...

. Observation ____Comes morning, __And fog fills the forest Where bluebirds are wet on the wings. ____The toadstools __Are soaking up moisture, One cricket in solitude sings. ____The fog lifts __And drifts like a phantom; Trees are subdued in a shroud. ____A vapor __Descends low and lower To hang o'er...

. It’s Only a Thought It’s only a thought to help pass the night, But what if our love should come to naught? Christ! That would be an unbearable plight. __It’s only a thought. But thoughts can stir feelings and feelings distraught Can so swiftly put slumber to flight. It’s...

. Across a Strong Bridge upon the marriage of two friends In a weary world that's grown quite old, Where men grow weak, and thought grows cold, Two hearts can make one serious dent For virtue strong. As cool as mint--- Transforming ice, into this force: Connecting love---a Cross, of course....

. The Loons of Colby Lake a true story As thawing white gave way to budding green, two loons upon the lake would mark the Spring, and they would build their nest, then teach their young how life was lived and how a song was sung. The male was velvet...

. What Is Grief?  When we are plagued by grief, We only think of sorrow— The loss of a dear loved one Whom we won't see tomorrow. Tears haunt our swollen faces That burst and bare our souls. Nice words like “Rest in Peace” Can’t plug the empty holes. What...

. “I Worship My Mistress, for I Have Seen Her Beauty” ---Egyptian Coffin Texts, spell 484---a poem for Linda It may be said that I am weak,That what I did was not from strength;Only I persevered because of duty;But to that, what I say, and at length:I worship my mistress,...

. Were She to Ask, and I Affirm Were she to ask, and I affirm That I'd still love her as a worm, I'd make it clear (because my dear Has Northern Cardinals to fear) The Robins and the Starlings Would die before my darling's Tears went down her little...

. Just Like That No special words, no passionate embrace; No gazing, full of meanings, soul to soul. Just casual talk, not even face to face; Just mundane filling each of them their role. Perhaps they did touch base---a text, a call: “We’ll have the roast tonight. If you don’t...

. The Ghost Girl One sunny May, I ran to play, __When I was twelve years old, Upon the hill.  I miss her still— __A girl with curls of gold In ribbon ties, big sky-blue eyes, __And waving, dark-red dress Soon ran my way and asked to play— __How could...

. A Precious Wife Is Like Fine Wine A precious wife is like fine wine, made mellow with the years, Aged in a barrel made of smiles and laughter, sighs and tears. Though time may etch its lines upon her once unfurrowed face, Time’s passage makes her well-refined in every...

. The Song of Everlasting Sorrow Tang Dynasty poet Bai Juyi (772-846) wrote this poem about Tang Emperor ("Son of Heaven") Xuanzong (685-762) and his famous concubine and former Taoist nun Yang Guifei, who is regarded as one of the Four Great Beauties of Chinese history. It takes place around...

. Under the Umbrella inspired by “Le Parapluie” (“The Umbrella”) by Georges Brassens (1921-1981) Rain fell in waves throughout the street; A woman walked with no umbrella. I offered mine; in voice real sweet, She answered, “Thank you, sir. I’m Stella.” She dried her young, angelic face Under my umbrella...

. Unopened Letters Unopened letters strewn across the floor Addressed to me with your name on the back. Left where they fell inside my slotted door. A postal service-aided sneak attack. I step on them with smug indifference, Rejecting your repentance with distain. A callous disregard my best defense From...

. If I Have Gone To Sleep If I depart in early sleep__And cease to be with you,My thoughts I'd leave for you to read,To hold your hands in times of need,__to soothe your grieving too.I've written words you have not read__That speak of you, my love.In them, I do...

. Another Coffee Shop, Another Crush Another coffee shop, another crush, a moment frozen just before my turn, a chance to grin and let her make me blush, a true inscription on a Grecian Urn... The crowded room abuzz, the slamming doors, the step by step; these morning-people low like...

. The Meat Purveyor’s Son Aesthetically impaired, she was the heir to daddy’s fortune. She was plumpish, short and much too close together were the eyes. She hankered after marriage with a man to birth at least a daughter and a son. Alas! She wasn’t what you’d call an English...

. Ovid in Tomis Relegated, scorned, I languish here in this drab town. Unwitting, I caught sight of what must not be seen; my wretched plight, harsh exile from my laureate lettered sphere. The ancients tell of Actaeon, a brash voyeur, ravishing virgins his sanguine princely right. I think my...

. For Paavo Nurmi who trained against his stop-watch and in medias rez we begin as the runners approach the penultimate turn. Though their torsos are heaving, the sweat isn't beading—the storm of their pace won't permit it. The coach isn't screaming, he's merely observing: the race is a bet...

. Stop All The Clocks after W.H. Auden Stop all the clocks, stop all humdrum, Silence the warblers, their constant hum; Bid the sun to pause, just stand by And the moon to remain in the starless sky. He was my dusk, he was my dawn, Stop all the clocks,...

. Insomnia, My Sometime Muse She comes to me while I’m asleep,Not with strange imaginings of dreamsBut with fragmented thoughts. It seemsShe thinks they cannot keepBut must be worked upon, upon this hour.While I from Hypnos try to wrestSome morsel of his healing power,Sleep becomes a useless questAnd this vivid...

. The Nymph by Luis de Góngora y Argote (1561-1627) translated by Alan Steinle As morning sunlight first began to show, a nymph went out to tread the verdant plain. Although she plucked some flowers for a chain, her feet inspired many more to grow. The air began to warm...

. A Walk At Night She's clothed in light when she appears; Freckles speck her argent skin. Her dazzling smile is bright tonight, A lamp to earth's unhurried spin. I gaze at her ascending form And smile at her flirtatious ways. The times she hides behind a cloud While bathing...

. Poems by Torquato Tasso (1544-1595) translated by Daniel Howard . O Darling Turtledove __Oh darling turtledove, __You for your partner pine, And I lament the one that was not mine. __Widow who lost your love, __You from the branchlet bare, I from the bole’s dry foot call back my...

. Outside Chance I hold my heart out in my handpalm up, the same way one might offerseeds to birds. (They’d understandthe danger in the gifts I proffer:As tempting as the snack may be,if once their vigilance should slip---one glitch in their agility---they might be trapped within my grip.)As wise...

. The Name We Leave When we first breathe and start to peer, What we will be is still unclear. A book of pages yet unturned Is what we are when we appear. Whether assigned, purloined, or earned, And when a standing time has burned, The name revealed on every...

. Poem 101 by Catullus (circa 84-54 BC) translated by Bruce Phenix Conveyed through many countries, over many seas, to these poor funerary offerings I come to give you, brother, that last present for the dead and speak, to no avail, to ashes which are dumb. Poor brother, so unfairly...