10 Best Famous Valentines Day Poems

Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Valentines Day poems. This is a select list of the best famous Valentines Day poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Valentines Day poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of valentines day poems.

• All Famous Valentines Day Poems

 The South is a dream of flowers 
With a jewel for sky and sea, 
Rose-crowns for the dancing hours, 
Gold fruits upon every tree; 
But cold from the North The wind blows forth 
That blows my love to me. 
The stars in the South are gold 
Like lamps between sky and sea; 
The flowers that the forests hold. 
Like stars between tree and tree; 
But little and white Is the pale moon's light 
That lights my love to me. 
In the South the orange grove 
Makes dusk by the dusky sea, 
White palaces wrought for love 
Gleam white between tree and tree, 
But under bare boughs Is the little house 
Warm-lit for my love and me.

 Oh! Montmorency Vere de Vere,
To think that one I held so dear
Should use a base deceiver’s art
To trifle with my loving heart.

A brand new ten-cent valentine
With lace and hearts and verses fine,
I sent to show my love for thee
And in return you send to me
The one I sent to you last year,
Oh! Montmorency Vere de Vere.

 I.--TO MISTRESS BARBARA

There were three cavaliers, all handsome and true,
On Valentine's day came a maiden to woo,
And quoth to your mother: "Good-morrow, my dear,
We came with some songs for your daughter to hear!"

Your mother replied: "I'll be pleased to convey
To my daughter what things you may sing or may say!"

Then the first cavalier sung: "My pretty red rose,
I'll love you and court you some day, I suppose!"

And the next cavalier sung, with make-believe tears:
"I've loved you! I've loved you these many long years!"

But the third cavalier (with the brown, bushy head
And the pretty blue jacket and necktie of red)
He drew himself up with a resolute air,
And he warbled: "O maiden, surpassingly fair!
I've loved you long years, and I love you to-day,
And, if you will let me, I'll love you for aye!"

I (the third cavalier) sang this ditty to you,
In my necktie of red and my jacket of blue;
I'm sure you'll prefer the song that was mine
And smile your approval on your valentine.


II.--TO A BABY BOY

Who I am I shall not say,
But I send you this bouquet
With this query, baby mine:
"Will you be my valentine?"

See these roses blushing blue,
Very like your eyes of hue;
While these violets are the red
Of your cheeks. It can be said
Ne'er before was babe like you.

And I think it is quite true
No one e'er before to-day
Sent so wondrous a bouquet
As these posies aforesaid--
Roses blue and violets red!

Sweet, repay me sweets for sweets--
'Tis your lover who entreats!
Smile upon me, baby mine--
Be my little valentine!

 He woke up in New York City on Valentine's Day,
Speeding. The body in the booth next to his was still warm,
Was gone. He had bought her a sweater, a box of chocolate
Said her life wasn't working he looked stricken she said
You're all bent out of shape, accusingly, and when he
She went from being an Ivy League professor of French
To an illustrator for a slick midtown magazine
They agreed it was his fault. But for now they needed
To sharpen to a point like a pencil the way
The Empire State Building does. What I really want to say
To you, my love, is a whisper on the rooftop lost in the wind
And you turn to me with your rally cap on backwards rooting
For a big inning, the bases loaded, our best slugger up
And no one out, but it doesn't work that way. Like the time
Kirk Gibson hit the homer off Dennis Eckersley to win the game:
It doesn't happen like that in fiction. In fiction, we are 
On a train, listening to a storyteller about to reach the climax
Of his tale as the train pulls into Minsk, his stop. That's
My stop, he says, stepping off the train, confounding us who
Can't get off it. "You can't leave without telling us the end,"
We say, but he is already on the platform, grinning.
"End?" he says. "It was only the beginning."

It is the world
And its owners and masters 
They have reserved
Such days of the year
As;
Labour day,
Woman's day,
Mother's day, 
Fathers day, 
Lover day, Valentine's day
And Just the few 
And such other days
For us people
The rest of the days
Of the year are for the owners
To enjoy their life
On our works
On our blood
On our struggle
It is the world
And its owners 
And masters decide
All matters.

By Ehsan Sehgal