Love poems
/ page 1213 of 1285 /
A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning
© John Donne
As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say
The breath goes now, and some say, No:
The Broken Heart
© John Donne
He is stark mad, who ever says,
That he hath been in love an hour,
Yet not that love so soon decays,
But that it can ten in less space devour;
The Good-Morrow
© John Donne
I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved? were we not weaned till then,
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den?
Holy Sonnet XIV: Batter My Heart, Three-Personed God
© John Donne
Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
Mothers Smile
© Michael Burch
There never was a fonder smile
than mothers smile, no softer touch
than mothers touch. So sleep awhile
and know she loves you more than much.
She Gathered Lilacs, for Beth
© Michael Burch
She gathered lilacs
and arrayed them in her hair;
tonight, she taught the wind to be free.
Fountainhead
© Michael Burch
to float awhirl on minute tides
within the compass of your eyes,
to feel your alabaster bust
grow cold within? Ecstatic sighs
seem hisses now; your eyes, serene,
reflect the suns pale tourmaline.
Rainbow (II)
© Michael Burch
You made us hopeful, LORD; where is your Hope
when every lovely Rainbow bright and chill
reflects your Will?
Auschwitz Rose
© Michael Burch
On Auschwitz now the reddening sunset settles;
they sleep alike--diminutive and tall,
the innocent, the "surgeons."
Sleeping, all.
To Flower
© Michael Burch
We are not long for this earth, I know
you and I, all our petals incurled,
till a night of pale brilliance, moonflower aglow.
Is there love anywhere in this strange world?
Excerpts from "Poetry"
© Michael Burch
Poetry, I found you
where at last they chained and bound you;
with devices all around you
to torture and confound you,
I found youshivering, bare.
The Peripheries of Love
© Michael Burch
Through waning afternoons we glide
the watery peripheries of love.
A silence, a quietude falls.
In Praise of Meter
© Michael Burch
If moons and tides in interlocking dance
obey their numbers, what is left to chance?
Should poets be more laxtheir circumstance
as humble as it is?or readers wince
to see their ragged numbers thin, to hear
of Neros death, yet mourn the Cavalier?
Ordinary Love
© Michael Burch
Indescribable--our love--and still we say
with eyes averted, turning out the light,
"I love you," in the ordinary way
She Was Very Strange, and Beautiful
© Michael Burch
She was very strange, and beautiful,
as the violet mist upon the hills
before night falls
when the hoot owl calls
and the cricket trills
and the envapored moon hangs low and full.
See
© Michael Burch
For loveliness remains in her grave eyes, /
and courage in her still-delighted looks: /
each face presented like a picture books. /
Bemused, she blows us undismayed goodbyes. /
Peach Blossom Journey
© Wang Wei
Fishing boat pursue water love hill spring
Both banks peach blossom arrive ancient river crossing
Travel look red tree not know far
Travel furthest blue stream not see people
The Beautiful Xi Shi
© Wang Wei
Since beauty is honoured all over the Empire,
How could Xi Shi remain humbly at home? --
Washing clothes at dawn by a southern lake --
And that evening a great lady in a palace of the north:
What We Are
© William Bronk
What we are? We say we want to become
what we are or what we have an intent to be.
We read the possibilities, or try.
We get to some. We think we know how to read.
Upon a Little Lady Under the Discipline of an Excellent Person.
© Anne Killigrew
A little Nymph whose Limbs divinely bright,
Lay like a Body of Collected Light,
But not to Love and Courtship so disclos'd,
But to the Rigour of a Dame oppos'd,
Who instant on the Faire with Words and Blows,
Now chastens Error, and now Virtue shews.
