Love poems

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There Are Those Who Love To Get Dirty

© Gary Snyder

There are those who love to get dirty
and fix things.
They drink coffee at dawn,
beer after work,

Tenderness

© Lisa Zaran

I am afraid
that when I go mad,
my father will bow his downy head
into his silver wings and weep.

Love Is Believable

© Lisa Zaran

love is believable
in every moment of exhaustion
in every heartbroken home
in every dark spirit,
the meaning unfolds...

Subtraction Flower

© Lisa Zaran

You could die for it--
love,
or refuse it altogether
and know nothing
except the urgency
of youth. Men

Go On

© Lisa Zaran

Born woman. Go on.
It's farther than it seems,
but okay.

Dreams

© Lisa Zaran

It is later than late,
the simmered down darkness
of the jukebox hour.

I Hardly Remember

© Rafael Guillen

I hardly remember your voice, but the pain of you
floats in some remote current of my blood.
I carry you in my depths, trapped in the sludge
like one of those corpses the sea refuses to give up.

Lord when the wise men came from farr,
Led to thy Cradle by a Starr,
Then did the shepherds too rejoyce,
Instructed by thy Angells voyce:
Blest were the wisemen in their skill,
And shepherds in their harmlesse will.

Lord when the wise men came from farr

© Sidney Godolphin

LORD when the wise men came from farr
Ledd to thy Cradle by A Starr,
Then did the shepheards too rejoyce,
Instructed by thy Angells voyce,

Cloris, it is not thy disdaine

© Sidney Godolphin

CLORIS, it is not thy disdaine
Can ever cover with dispaire
Or in cold ashes hide that care
Which I have fedd with soe long paine,

To The Spring

© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller

Welcome, gentle Stripling,
Nature's darling thou!
With thy basket full of blossoms,
A happy welcome now!

To Minna

© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller

Do I dream? can I trust to my eye?
My sight sure some vapor must cover?
Or, there, did my Minna pass by--
My Minna--and knew not her lover?

To Laura (Mystery Of Reminiscence)

Who and what gave to me the wish to woo thee--
Still, lip to lip, to cling for aye unto thee?
Who made thy glances to my soul the link--
Who bade me burn thy very breath to drink--

To Emma

Far away, where darkness reigneth,
All my dreams of bliss are flown;
Yet with love my gaze remaineth
Fixed on one fair star alone.
But, alas! that star so bright
Sheds no lustre save by night.

To A Moralist

Are the sports of our youth so displeasing?
Is love but the folly you say?
Benumbed with the winter, and freezing,
You scold at the revels of May.

Thekla - A Spirit Voice

Whither was it that my spirit wended
When from thee my fleeting shadow moved?
Is not now each earthly conflict ended?
Say,--have I not lived,--have I not loved?

The Words Of Error

Three errors there are, that forever are found
On the lips of the good, on the lips of the best;
But empty their meaning and hollow their sound--
And slight is the comfort they bring to the breast.
The fruits of existence escape from the clasp
Of the seeker who strives but those shadows to grasp--