Love poems

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Ars Poetica

© Paul Verlaine

for Charles Morice

Music first and foremost! In your verse,

Elizabethan

© Linda Pastan

Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
For I am soft and made of melting snow
—Queen Elizabeth I

I look along the dusty dreary way,
So lately strew'd with blossoms fresh and gay,
The sweet procession of the year is past,
And wither'd whirling leaves run rattling fast,
Like throngs of tatter'd beggars following
Where late went by the pageant of a king.

Caelica 29: [The nurse-life wheat within his green husk growing]

© Fulke Greville

The nurse-life wheat within his green husk growing,
Flatters our hope, and tickles our desire,
Nature’s true riches in sweet beauties showing,
Which sets all hearts, with labor’s love, on fire.

Art And Love

© James Whitcomb Riley

He faced his canvas (as a seer whose ken

Pierces the crust of this existence through)

First Thanksgiving

© Sharon Olds

When she comes back, from college, I will see

the skin of her upper arms, cool,

If? See No End In Is

© Frank Bidart

What none knows is when, not if.
Now that your life nears its end
when you turn back what you see
is ruin. You think, It is a prison. No,
it is a vast resonating chamber in
which each thing you say or do is

Over The Carnage

© Walt Whitman

OVER the carnage rose prophetic a voice,
Be not dishearten'd-Affection shall solve the problems of Freedom
yet;
Those who love each other shall become invincible-they shall yet
make Columbia victorious.

Elegiac Stanzas Suggested By A Picture Of Peele Castle

© William Wordsworth

Ah! then , if mine had been the Painter's hand,
To express what then I saw; and add the gleam,
The light that never was, on sea or land,
The consecration, and the Poet's dream;

Between Two Loves

© Thomas Augustine Daly

I GOTTA lov' for Angela,

I lov' Carlotta, too.

Hymn from a Watermelon Pavilion

© Edwin Muir

You dweller in the dark cabin,
To whom the watermelon is always purple,
Whose garden is wind and moon,

Platonic Love

© Abraham Cowley

1

Indeed I must confess,

I Am an Atheist Who Says His Prayers

© Ishmael Reed

I am an atheist who says his prayers.

I am an anarchist, and a full professor at that. I take the loyalty oath.

At Camelot.

Her maiden eyes were redolent of love,
Warm-bosomed as she breathed the passioned air
Of old romance, and did in fancy move
'Mong the gay knights who died for ladies fair;