Best Love Poetry
Under the Stars
Breathtaking
poetic passions,
lavender skies
in the gloaming.
The lure of lavender
reflections,
the heavens are open.
Suddenly,
crystal rain.
What
a divine cascade~
romantic waters,
dazzling
bodies of light
starbright!
Tranquility
on becoming enlightened.
Autumn's breeze~
windsongs~
Luna's light...
Oh my love
it is quiet tonight,
hold me
under the stars.
A glimpse of heaven,
a place of enchantment,
anima mystique~
always you.
Oh poet,
behind closed eyes,
my soul belongs to you.
You are so beautiful
amour,
many lifetimes
in the shadows.
The wonders of love,
divine inspiration
under the stars.
Seasonal dance tonight.
8-1-22
~Seventh Place Premiere Contest~
ANYTHING GOES Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose Rose |
5-31-22 rev.
~Fifth Place Premiere Contest~
What Fascinates Me
Fascination and Awe Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jeff Kyser
*This poem was created from my poem titles and strung
together so they make sense.
Curl around me, take a chance
escape in this sweet romance,
create a story with me . . .
I want to live in your poetry
The beginning is moving so slow
and the middle lingers way too long,
this ending I need to know
- so please don’t let go
never, ever let me go,
because this is where I belong
Wrapped in moments true,
in the story of love- a beautiful mood,
the rhythm and rhyme of you
As these pages unfold- tenderly,
thoughts of you hold me. . . softly
Embrace me, and take a chance
escape in this sweet romance,
create a story with me
I want to live in your poetry
Because this is where I belong,
and the wait has been too long
This ending I need to know
Will I be tangled in moments true,
in the story of love- a beautiful mood,
the rhythm and rhyme of you?
I want to live in your poetry
______________________
~ If loving you means living in your words ~
Authors Note - These lyrics are a reflection of the heart.
I understand that need- of being someone’s beginning, middle and end.
Never letting go.
Friday December 13, 2019- Poem of the Day
Love's tend'rest touch, your gentle words reveal
Caress my soul. sweet poet, with your verse
Write dulcet lullabies which make me feel
Secure, like infants held at breast to nurse
Turn tears of sadness into peaceful streams
Make whispered breezes whisk my strife away
Put passion in my fantasized daydreams
Paint troubles in to flowery bouquets
And even though I know they're not for me
I steal your soothing love just like a thief
This load I carry lightens suddenly
Because my broken heart has found relief
Your words are like a song, please sing to me
Sweet poet, how I love your poetry
an original poem by Daniel Turner
......
(PoetrySoup Format)
. . . smooth shades secretly serenade,
blush and blend, to send vivid vivacity.
- a masterpiece in the making -
like a painter posing with a palette,
matching the mood
of cream and Burgundy
**************
Summer shimmers, sharing a savory sweetness,
the sultry Saturn sunrise, swaddles a Sangria sunset
____________
Fall, into me,
beyond the ambiance of Autumn
________________________
like the poised position,
of a poet with a pen,
simply sculpting shapes;
softly scribbling shadows within
------------------
A romantic/seasonal scribble
- Fall into my love, the love and mood of the season -
Perhaps both
When Light needed a body to behold, and color to kiss,
as Darkness dreamnt to die in the dawn of depth,
when Soul lustered to lust for learning, and being learned,
as blood bespoke to bones for building a star of flesh,
when Time needed the umbrage of it's ubiquity to be understood,
the moment texture tempted touch to tease with a thousand sensations,
when laws of love sought a language to express the extremes of it's lips,
as romance rampaged through the ravishings of famished hearts,
when the seduction of sorrow made heros of loving men and women,
When Justice appealed to the instincts of intent for inscriptions of innocence,
as bravery found battle in basic questions of survival and conquest,
when war demanded a metaphor in the terror of it's diligent destruction,
as Faith found resolve in seconds small along with giant gestures,
Death singing melancholy for sympathy and Life haughty upon it's horizon,
when Angels chose to wear albatross of gold to feel the rue of rogues,
as the most perfect woman ambushed the ideals of rumored beauty,
when God wanted imagination to create immaculate reality
Poetry began, born in the instant of forever Art,
because, the only promise of a Poet, is Passion -
Dedicated to Poetry...J.A.B.
Brick by brick I built my walls,
despite fires raging,
I preserved paths that connected
bridges between our breathless existence.
Now that my heartbeats
have reached a dead end street,
let me rest my jaded head
upon your chest -
for fate has foretold it as my abode to forever sleep.
I was the melatonin to your insomnia,
you the immunity to internal inflictions.
If only I could have drank your infatuation,
as a remedy for my antagonising agony.
Poetry was only a provisional potion,
yet it distracted from all negative notions.
We weaved a blanket of words,
where you adored the moon in nocturnal notoriety,
whilst I portrayed the beauty of sunrise in your eyes.
I guess nothing illuminates forever.
If this was my last love poem,
would you forgive my silence?
Would you still bless me in your verses,
or let my memories wither
like the petals your promised
to bloom in our poetic garden?
Would I be your last metaphor,
in your final spill of tears?
Or would you reveal to the world,
the greatest unfinished love story.
In manipulation of manifestation,
I was your willing wordsmith,
protecting you with my shield of sanity -
in the hope I slayed every demon who desired you.
If it was a crime to love you,
then I was content as a criminal,
awaiting my destiny on death row.
'There is no silence in poetry.'
As I swing back and forth,
surrounded by an abundance of petals,
I still remember being a stranger,
in a foreign land.
Sun shone so strong that day,
as I traveled through the 'hustle and bustle,'
of pastry shops and fruit stalls,
until the path became narrow and dusty.
Soldiers stood guard in tall towers,
as pious ones prepared for prayers -
but my footsteps of fate,
were only devoted to you.
As I entered through an iron gate,
anxiously anticipating our first glance.
I admired fragrant blossoms -
until your scent drifted past,
like a sweet refreshing tepid breeze.
Innocence of your soul reflected,
through those almond brown eyes.
Shyness of your sleek smile,
created an angelic visage -
pious ones supplicated in service,
but it felt like I was the one in heaven.
So many poetic thoughts came to mind,
yet I could not find a metaphor to justify it -
yet poetry can never remain silent.
As your eyes told me a story,
that has yet to be told -
I saw you hiding in trenches,
dug deep into your heart -
so I spoke to you in a language,
only you would understand.
Promising to take you away,
from all the trials and tribulations,
plaguing your mind.
One day when our hands lock,
we will gaze towards horizon's hued tones,
lost in the delight of twilight's twinkling stars,
till sunrise illuminates through our eyes.
Together life will become beautiful,
as we venture from Giza's pyramid,
to the temple of Artemis.
Watch as our footsteps wash away,
along white sands of Boracay beach,
as we bathe in its calm 'crystal clear' sea.
Yet nothing will be as beautiful as you.
'Poets are patient, but their pens are not.'
Simple Musing
Silent One
25 May 2020
The notes of love in verse;
a melody of life
penned softly a la carte
will render thoughts of bliss
when whispered heart-to-heart.
The notes of love in verse;
a symphony of hope
shared ‘tween two hearts in love
just trying to connect
beneath the stars above.
The notes of love in verse;
a rhapsody of words
sighed with a tender flow
when whispered in the dark
sets lovers’ hearts aglow.
The notes of love in verse;
the poetry of thoughts
sung softly in the night,
with stardust raining down,
ignites love’s midnight flight.
January 5, 2024
Poem of the Day - January 6, 2024
In principles of love,
there is no perfection -
it is not your master,
nor are you its slave.
In my poetic heaven,
muse needs no inspiration.
Cradled in my beloved's arms -
her embrace gentle and warm,
her petal like skin, tender and aromatic.
Her nature calms my childhood sorrows,
as all fears disappear.
This could be my final resting place.
Soothed by her angelic fingertips,
heavy head heals, resting softly, upon her chest,
listening to my name echo from her heart -
each beat creates a rhythm of romantic chants.
In the deepness of her eyes,
I can see the doorway to my soul.
Lyrics to a poem not heard before.
As our lips merge,
through the connection of breaths,
we create poetry without words.
There is an art to love, sadly not all are artists,
so seek the one who inspires your palette.
Simple Musing
Silent One
4 November 2020
I'm inspired to open beauty's door
To step outside and let my mind explore,
To feel refreshing rain from skies above
To internalize nature's gifts of love.
Your poetry is what inspires so...
Such imagery that sets my heart aglow.
You capture life and love within your rhyme
In music of your words that's so sublime.
Enchantment swells from my impassioned heart
From glory that your wondrous words impart.
The depth of passion with coherent bliss
Lingers in my mind as a cherished kiss.
I long to be enfolded by your charms
With dreams of being held within your arms,
As your desires seem so real to me....
Yet, sure I know those dreams be poetry.
11-15-18
~First Place~
LATE NOVEMBER ,ANY FORM,ANY THEME,UPTO A MAX OF 20 lines
Contest Judged: 11/18/2018 12:08:00 AM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
*Dedicated to all romantic Poetry Soup poets
You can write about it
A red rose in summer skies
Of beautiful rainbows
Coloring her Spanish eyes
Of Lovely mountains
And winding rivers too
Kissing passionately
Under an exotic moon
Mr. Poetry Man
Write a poem for me
Make it of a dream
In a midnight fantasy
Mr. Poetry Man
Write a poem just for me
Be it sad or honey sweet
The way I like to read
She’s a rose
With thorns stuck
Deep in myside
Run hide
I can’t get away
hopelessly Intoxicated
‘till my dying day
Write of gorgeous petals
Her black eyes of pearl
Of breathless passion
When two hearts unfold
You can talk about it
In sultry whispering words
Of romantic moments
That one day gets cold
Nights of heartache
The restless aching souls
Bring out the sunshine
Make a wonderful world
Mister Poetry Man
Write a poem for me
Make it naturally
Whether truth or fantasy
Mister Poetry Man
Write a poem just for me
Give wings to set me free
Just the way I like to be
“I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think.” Rumi
Oh my love,
you will always sit
as the queen to my
throne of romance,
I'll be the ink
pouring upon your
satin canvas
and If I should
ever expire, then
kiss me back to life -
in a portrait of
unknown metaphors.
My precious sweetheart,
ignore those who judge,
allow your passion
to compose in tones
free from opinion,
like humming birds,
singing without fear
about who hears the
message of their hearts,
so sing your soul's
secrets out loud and
when your lips tire,
I'll gift you my words,
my lyrics, my meter,
rhymes and syllables.
I care not for prose,
because for me -
you are poetry!
If no longer could I inscribe, upon tapestries of rosy skies,
Dreams tinted violet, blossomed in themes amethystine,
And no longer could I weave-in the dreamscapes of life,
Failing to decode the missives of your clandestine smile;
If bluebells, red buds, white magnolias~ blooming spring,
And the tall oaks swaying with the slow dance of willows,
And the zephyrs that undulate ripples, burbling with currents,
Could no longer wow you on the banks of our giggling river;
If rustling trees, whirling leaves, dazzling chromatic glee,
Majestic aspens, sugar maple, fall’s stellar symphony,
And blushed twilight ceding to moonlit night’s euphony,
Could no longer mesmerize you in autumn’s blazing glory;
If frosty season sprinkling snowflakes on enchanted evening,
Bedecking face of prairies, enlivening decaying meadows,
And sun’s aureate mellowed rays glinting elongated shadows,
Could no longer lure you to the splendor of falling snow;
If I can’t infer love from passions amethyst of rising dawn,
If I can’t decipher meaning of your covert, unfolding smile,
If I can’t invoke spring in budding birth of yellow daffodils,
If I can’t show you autumn in a single golden falling leaf,
If I can’t make you feel, winter’s angst in shuttering trees;
Then I am afraid, it must be true, a poet I have ceased to be;
And yet, I hear you say my dear, forever you will love me.
There is a bridge, it crosses over deserts
It cements oceans, binds the icy seas
Flies over fiery vulcans, sings melodious
Breathes over you a cooling welcome song
A bridge that binds where first was separation
Oblivious to race, beliefs, or sex.
Does not care for timidity, bravado
And all it sees is sheer humanity
This bridge is art, its splendor shines in silence
Its poetry is love, its words seduce
This bridges arms wrap tightly 'round who needs it
And on this bridge we feast in harmony
Let's fill a glass, cheers to fraternization
To poetry as art that builds this bridge
'Tween worlds and people, far away and near
To friendship, love, and friends so very dear.
***
Blank Verse Iambic Pentameter
8th place in contest: Blank Verse Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Janice Canerdi
If only for a moment,
I could swoop you away.
I’d plan an entire night,
Easing the stress of the day.
Fresh cut roses in a vase,
And a candle lit dinner.
My mind races with thoughts,
And girl, you’re the winner.
Delve into this ecstasy,
For my love’s not a mirage.
After your lovely dinner,
I’d give you a massage.
Take the load off your feet,
And let my fingers flow.
Lets just sail away,
To wherever this may go.
I want to see you chill,
And clear out your head.
Relaxing with no worries,
As the best lies ahead.
With a cluster of grapes,
And a little red wine.
A hint of soft music,
For you to unwind.
Releasing your tension,
I like to see you smiling.
And the layers of fun,
Are just now compiling.
A late walk on the beach,
Unforgettable memories on sand.
I’d be your noble servant,
Every wish at your command.
If you need to get away,
Come spend an evening with me.
Our action’s would write a book,
Of the greatest love poetry.