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Love High School Poems | High School Poems About Love

These Love High School poems are examples of High School poems about Love. These are the best examples of Love High School poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

LOVE at FIRST SIGHT

Love was in the air when he laid eyes on her.
Childhood; elementary and even high school with her.
Walking towards her, he greeted her.
Anxiety spiraled as he hugged her.
Conversation grew deeper as he sat with her.
Wanting to get closer because he was falling for her.

Another woman called pausing the time he was having with her.
Knowing he had to answer; he stepped away and spoke to her.
She stated that something wasn't quite right with her.
She said that her stomach had been bothering her.
Now he's thinking back if he came inside her.
Thinking if she lied to him about her tubes being tied within her.

Does he blame himself for listening to her?
Knowing right from wrong and yet he can't blame her.
Does he blame the devil for allowing him to be intimate with her?
Is he not a human that makes mistakes just like her?
Begging God to make a way for him and her.
Asking God to forgive him for committing the sin with her.

God said, "relax my son, you were only dreaming of her."


Details | Narrative |

Indelible

I was seventeen, had one year left of high school and a boyfriend I didn't even love.
It was the end of summer, and I was on the verge of a night indelible
because it was incredible for me.

If "tall, dark, and handsome" had a face, it belonged to one who walked
into the store I worked at nightly all alone. He brought with him a smile just for me -
beautiful, magical, seducing. Were he music, he'd have been the warmest song
to ever touch my soul. Perhaps it was the moon, lunacy-inducing, that made me crave
his visits more and more, for he'd come each night into the store, 
his ritual to tease me with his glances; then stand in line with just one purchase,
engaging me with words deliciously belying that he spoke my native tongue. 
Did he know I fairly worshiped him? 
And where was Aphrodite to let her dear Adonis wander free?

I learned eventually he was staying with a brother and soon would be returning to Quebec. 
I do not know, but I can now infer the moon waxed full by the time he asked me out, 
for I had waxed complete in my audacity. Knowing it was his last night in town, 
I closed the store up early and fled with my Prince Charming.
The stuff of poetry that night transpired. . .
fodder for the several poems of romance I've since penned.
Sitting in his car in front of my own house, late at night, into the early morning. . .
The way he gazed into my eyes, teaching me of butterfly kisses 
and his breathing his sweet breath along my ear lobes,
the way our fingers interlaced, the way he caressed the small of my back. . . 
He taught me how small things
can be just as sensuous as that act of love that virgins do not know,
and he branded me with a yearning for a sweet romantic love I'd never felt so strongly,
nor would I ever know again as wonderfully as I was shown that night,
 for others in my life I've kissed, yet barely missed.

My dream love wrote me postcards from Quebec. Then it all died out.
I married. A few years passed; then I got a call from him, completely unexpected!
Somehow he'd tracked me down to my new home. I took the call, 
 as I held my firstborn baby daughter in one arm.
Heart in my throat, I told him it was nice to hear from him, but I was married now.
So though I'll never know what "may have been," I'm still left with the memory
I chose to make with him  that one day of my life, my very best,
because for just one night, I was Cinderella. A prince still holds my slipper,
and infinite romance lives on inside my poems.



Details | Narrative |

To Elizabeth

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,
For as you were when first your eye I eye'd,
Such seems your beauty still. 
~ William Shakespeare


I have looked into the mirror
Looking for a trace....a trace of my youth
A trace of the girl that I used to be...
Is she there?  Buried deep? Is she still part of me?

Years can't be halted, change can't erase..
And there...in my face, are the lines of experience
Stories and time...I see staring back at me
A part of me wants to grieve for that girl
The girl that I was..   Has she vanished for good?

Oh, I do understand....
That I can't hang on to "then"..
To days long ago, when time was our friend
When summers, together,  seemed never to end
But, then............ , here by chance, we meet up once again.....

Our friendship born in childhood..so young, and carefree
You...with bright eyes, and brown hair that fell long
Around your high cheeks ...and a wide, gamin smile!
You were the one who's light shined so brightly
Who's charm, laugh, and wisdom I fondly admired
A girlhood where we danced together in sweet grass under sunny skies
And under nighttime stadium lights, to the music of the high school band

After years, that have taken us to separate worlds
In my mind, and in my dreams you have always been
The fair maiden, the one who held my hand
Two girls who made promises...who sat in the dark, under a summer sky
And talked of our "somedays", of our future, our hopes
By the light of the moon, we wished upon the stars

Now here in this moment, I have found you again
And here in this moment, I have found "me" again....
I can be that girl again....as we share our history
our moment in the sun, ....I am "her", again!..
I can be that child, I can be fifteen, I can wear a crown, upon a teenaged throne... 
And I can still dance to the sound of the drum, and the tuba,
I can sing football songs, and gossip about the boys, 
   and make fun of the stuck-up girls
     and laugh about the teachers we didn't like, 
                   and about the night of the prom, when I cried in your arms

I can hear Johnny Mathis singing "Misty", and the words will make me weep
       I can hear "Canadian Sunset" as it lulls me off to sleep

Perhaps the stars have faded a bit...but beyond the weary miles
They still shine when I look into your eyes...my dear friend, from the past...
They will shine through the ages.........where a summer will always  last....
         
                      ~                                    ~


For Frank's Contest:


Details | Rhyme |

Death - Reborn - Balassi Stanza

As I take my last breath
The pathway to my death
Is the Arc of a Rainbow

In Darkness, unforeseen 
With a Soul, so unclean
As a Raven’s or a Crow

I can feel this new Life
Sounds of bagpipes and fife
An Eternity, to Grow 

Inspired by Dr. Ram Mehta’s Contest
              “ Balassi Stanza “

Author’s Note : Dr. Ram has Taught me more English
Than my Jr. & Sr. High School Teachers : Combined


Details | Narrative |

15 and stupid

This poem was inspired by my best friend and her troubles: ) We go out on our first date, We go back to your house, Your parents are asleep, We go to your bedroom, You tell me you love me and that you will take care of me, I wake up thinking of last night your laying next to me holding me, You wake up and look at me and smile, You lean over and kiss me, I feel like you are the best thing to ever happen to me, You are my first love, Little do we know what’s happening, Nine months latter we are parents, We are planning our marriage, Our lives are set in stone now, We are parents at age fifteen, engaged at age fifteen, Life has just left our eyes, Now we are two teens in love living on their own parents disowned them, child with them drop outs of high school and working jobs to survive. What a stupid mistake we made at age fifteen. Under aged sex is not a smart choice unless you want my life….


Details | Rhyme |

DNA

I want to explain
How I feel about you
The thoughts in my head
How my heart feels too

Your mom and I joined
And you were already here
I came onto the scene 
A little late, I fear

Just four months old
When we first met
"Who's this stranger?"
You were thinking, I bet

You woke up crying
And your mom was impressed
For I put you to sleep
Up against my chest

I fell in love with you
And took your mom as my wife
I remember those years 
As the best in my life

Boy, was I jealous 
When you met your "real" dad
I wanted to grab him
And yell at him so bad :)

We are married no more
Your mother and I
When I think about that
Sometimes I still cry

Many years have passed
My how you've grown
You're in high school now
And have your own cell phone

And tho we now live
Two states apart
I love you so much!
With all of my heart!

So remember you this
Miss Ashley Nicole....
You're my pride and joy
You're in my heart and soul

And I don't care 
What people think or say
It matters not to me
Your true DA

With lots of love,
                         Dad


Details | Free verse |

Pieces of Eternity (Seasons Finale)

Maybe it’s unacceptable 
Live a life capable of a true fable 
True friends never end 
But take you back to where it all began 
But hey misery gave us something to believe in 
Stress became a greater award as we achieved sin 
What could I say? Our savior died on a cross tough as pig skin 
Never once cried over the loss 
Forbidden fruit, Eden garden 
Excuse me, my lord, I beg your pardon 
And so what if these medics carry life in a carton 
But I ain’t trippin 
Simply because this is me until my dying day 
Please stop crying, you know I can’t stay 
I’m going to be the same until my dying day 
Over in that casket is where I’m trying to lay 
That’s right until my dying day 
True lost souls from the dark side 
Forever, we as mortals ride 
Peace is nothing, I fend for quiet time 
Rebels in riot lines 
Previous high school graduates 
Symbols of an adjective running toward fate 
True personality suffer the privilege of inmates 
How could you hesitate to ask 
There’s no stranger under this mask 
Lonely and unholy, who’s there to console me? 
I want to get away, forever restless 
You can see my similarities with the ocean 
I’m stress less 
Because this is me until my dying day 
Please stop crying, you know I can’t stay 
I’m going to be the same until my dying day 
Over in that casket is where I’m trying to lay 
My son, my friend 
We are but pieces of eternity 
Mesh on, mesh off 
Even at our best times we’re soft 
Who’s to say I’d regret my decision 
To lead a sinners life without God’s supervision 
On a one man mission 
And I know I don’t come around much 
Got my palms in reality 
Searching for something softer to touch 
Whisper in my ear, death makes me blush 
And Hell only flatters me 
One and one, through matter the winds scatter me 
I ain’t trippin, baby girl get off your knees 
You’re in the arms of a future me 
And I can’t see heaven from a distance 
Fire me over clouds like a piston 
Marching through blood 
But it’s all mud and water to Darkhouse 
Stand still let me mark my spouse 
Live my life as an outcast 
How could you even picture me at my last? 
Dear lord show some mercy on my followers 
Bless those that swallow dust to follow us 
No need to borrow sympathy 
Unforgiving sorrow made my enemies envy me 


Details | Prose Poetry |

Ghosts of South Dakota part 4

	Of course on this night we are supposed to be asleep so Santa 
could come, but we hadn't been home from Midnight Mass very long, and the 
invigorating cold was not conducive to sleep.  Even the hot chocolate did not do 
much to help sedate the excitement.
	We were hoping for sleds that year.  The snow was perfect for 
sledding especially like we did it.  We tied out sleds on behind the car or pick up 
and were pulled through the hills.  We got our sleds.  My dad and my uncle made 
them for us.
	No television and only in the late years were we allowed to use the 
radio.  Batteries were to expensive for frivolous use.  We spent many hours 
playing cards or games.
	I took time out and went to high school and college and got my 
teaching certificate.
	My aunt taught there only one year after the Federal Government 
turned the schools over to the local government.
	The last time I was back there the out buildings had been moved and 
Indian families were living in them.  The school was dirty and unkept.
	Now the school is gone.  The ancestors who once walked these 
dusty plains are gone.  The Indians who were there when I was a child are gone.
	They are Ghosts.  Ghosts whose faces can be seen in the clouds.  
Ghosts  who still chop wood on those sub zero nights.  And the drums we heard 
in the middle of the nights are still beating.  They beat as strongly as the heart 
beats in a healthy body.  The laughter of the children still echoes under the 
bridge.
	The life blood of a culture, of a nation grows thin.  The Battle of 
Wounded Knee was the last battle to be fought  between the white man and the 
Indian on the northern plains.  It's cries still echo across the land.
	My foot prints in the creek did not last any longer than those they left 
in the dust.  But in my memories, this mile and a half by three quarter mile haven 
still lives.  And will live forever as a piece of unrecorded history.


Details | Free verse |

Mardi Gras

Mardi Gras

Ever since the flames licked 

my fair pink burning flesh,

nothing in my life has remained the same.



I had to go back in to 

save my little brother Chris. 

 Life without him would kill me, 

besides myself I would forever blame.

 

Even though it’s been ten years, 

my face still feels the pain.



Having to go through high school 

with a scarred face is just lame.



I’ve got the body of a goddess; 

I must admit I’m beautiful from the neck down, 

but the hideous burn scars 

on my face have remained.

 

Months after the accident 

weeks before school started,

a knock at my door came.



An anonymous donor sent a box

 full of beautifully hand decorated

Mardi Gras masks made for only the fairest lady, 

that’s the day I got my new name.

 

Each month a new box of masks 

would arrive and I would wear everyone.

I became known as the royal shapely, disfigured lady. 

Mardi Gras was my fame.

 

One night a mysterious white box appeared, 

inside rested the most unique and intricately 

adorned mask of all.  It was a pure white mask adorned 

with a delicate French ivory lace, fluffy pure white 

dove feathers and shiny white pearls outlined the mask.  

White is normally considered lame 

but this was breathtaking, nothing plain.  



Inside the box was also an

 invitation, asking me to attend 

the prom with "Masked Bandit" Lane.



 I couldn’t believe it! All along it was 

my handsome next door neighbor and

 Chris' best friend, who had been sending 

the ornate masks to me.  He was my hero now, 

my enthusiasm could hardly be tamed..  



Lane had always adored my brother Chris and seemed 

to like me too. I always knew he had 

a crush on me, but I never knew to what extent. 

I rushed over to his house where he was playing 

with my brother Chris a heated basketball game.



I hugged him and told him that 

I would love to go with him to the prom.



Just between you and me, 

Lane and I will always be the 

masked King and Queen of Mardi Gras 

and forever in love we will reign.





 

 


Details | I do not know? |

The Speed of Life

In the childhood home her mother spins her child
Round and round we go happiness seems to overflow
And the childhood  goes by; faster, faster

A growing child with so much energy running and having fun
Careless and free he runs across the yard
He is growing up; faster, faster

Only in middle school and already a rebel
Sticking up for a friend and getting in a fight
He has courage but still he runs; faster, faster

High school has come at last
The odd man out he cries for attention
Into depression he spirals; faster, faster

At the high school prom he meets a girl
The hearts beet together and the music beats in their ears
They are falling madly in love; faster, faster

Barely a year and a kid on the way
To work and back the same routine, every hour, every day
A wedding is coming closer; faster, faster

So far a happy life, and a good career
They buy a home and outside he spins his child
Another childhood is going by; faster, faster

His life was long another one has started from it
But now the ambulance move; faster, faster
And his heartbeat fails; slower, slower


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