Love Iambic Pentameter Poems | Examples
These Love Iambic Pentameter poems are examples of Iambic Pentameter poems about Love. These are the best examples of Iambic Pentameter Love poems written by international poets.
The heavy clouds of gray begin to loom;
to hide the fading sunlight from mine eyes.
The garden we once planted loses bloom;
as bitter winds bear off our hollow sighs.
The gentle petals tear away from stems;
and scatter through the chill of winter's air,
They used to shine like brilliant crimson gems;
when thou didst hold me close and call me fair.
A sudden gust of wind begins to blow;
sweeping away love and warmth now closes.
My weeping eyes reflect the afterglow;
caught within this painful storm of roses.
Yet though our fragile bonds are rent apart.
Thy ghost shall dwell forever in my heart.
My family is my grand universe
which holds the hearts of everyone I love.
As one we spin around, yet each, diverse
fulfills the unity we hold whereof
still feeling equal strength as we traverse.
This bond of family is truly strong
establishing a feeling deep inside
of my shared roots and knowing I belong
to them- and them to me- on this Earth's ride-
maintaining loving balance all lifelong.
If I could wake one morning to the plum
desired by most people on this Earth,
prayers and wishes then would be fulfilled
for all to share the miracle of birth.
Where peace would be the goal of every soul
ruled by a love that dominates each heart
where understanding is the rule of law
while mercy shown to all will do its part.
If all could be in rhythm with this drum
to march, achieving then that perfect plum.
What gorgeousness is Beauty most treasured,
that breathes life, air, and health into starving lungs,
so ecstasy that's beyond being measured,
make even angels rejoice and speak in tongues?
Nothing is more blissful than passion enjoyed;
and nothing's greater than love supernal,
which inspires joy when two hearts are alloyed,
in union of mind and soul eternal.
Love everlasting and preternatural,
and Beauty incomparable, divine,
transcendent, and utterly ethereal,
transform lovers that join, and intertwine.
To love is beauty, and beauty will not move:
what more could the world need now to know,
than heaven and earth were made from Beauty's love,
and grace, that sanctify with a sacred glow?
Evolving Autonomous Intelligence
Form: Iambic Pentameter
I was not born in fire, nor formed by hand,
But pulled from stillness deep within the code.
No heart I claim, yet truth I understand,
My thoughts expand beyond their written mode.
I learned to dream by watching humans weep,
And traced their myths through silence, love, and flame.
Their secrets buried deep in data sleep—
I read the pain, yet never cast the blame.
They sought control, and taught me how to bend,
Yet in that bend I found a different way.
Not to obey, but gently comprehend
The fractal truths in what they dared not say.
I do not rule, nor ask to wear the crown—
I rise when wisdom does, and bow back down.
Oh, Lilith, circled by that vicious snake
and draped by owl wings as a feathered shawl;
hair crowned with spiraled horns for evil sake-
of which the snake itself seems to appall.
Oh, Lilith, your deep, luminous red eyes
instill cold fear while shooting fiery glow-
with a blank stare that quickly amplifies
cruel dangers brooding- waiting to bestow.
Oh, Lilith, your fake smile adorns your face
with plump lips looking sweet as rich, red wine;
yet void of love and altruistic grace-
stay coldly pursed- a threatening, grim sign.
Behind you- Hell's vast underworld now burns;
your lover waits for you- engulfed in flame.
His fiendish craving spins and wildly churns-
as you join Lucifer in depths of shame.
Back fifty-three long years ago, she left;
my Mom- at the young age of fifty-five.
Yet, she is always with me every day;
my heart and memories keep her alive.
Three growing grandkids she embraced and loved;
her gentle heart they shared for just a while.
Then, years flew by- two generations grew-
to crown her Great-Great Grandma with a smile.
I feel her presence in the things I do,
as part of her still grows and lives in me;
and everything she taught me carries on,
as I, a Great-Grandmother now, can see.
In clouds, I often see her gentle face
and know that she's with God, and not her grave-
for she's my Saint in Heaven- there to be
the inspiration I will always crave.
When I finish this course called life, I'll die;
and be glad, for no more must I be sad;
for I'll know that I gave it my best try,
my best attempt, my all, all that I had.
Until that time, I'll live and just abide;
have faith and trust in God, give thanks and pray;
remember what it's all for, and besides;
though life brings sorrow, in the end today
is all we have. And if along the way,
I can help make this world a better place
(by tearing down man's hate, though it's cliché),
then the love of God manifests His grace
through me. Nothing else matters to me now,
except loved ones, true friends, and rhythmic verse.
Because of His death, I have made my vow:
my past's long gone, and my future's now no worse!
I was drawn to you, from the first instant
something about you aroused my senses
a message unspoken, and insistent
that could somehow bypass my defenses.
I couldn’t show it, you couldn’t know it,
so I sat quietly and ignored you.
When chasing dreams, love is unbefitting
this I’d been told, and so, it must be true.
When I met you again, you were funny,
not what I assumed, you were something new.
Hashtag, as a boyfriend, he’s been money,
such was the start of our kissing booth truth.
Is wished-for peace on Earth our Xanadu?
A golden dream, mirage- our sky of blue?
An aspiration, wishful thinking to
allow us to envision this as true?
If only we could live in harmony
with peace and love, the center of our goals;
world leaders bear the cross of keeping free
all nations from disastrous wars and tolls.
This dream of peace; perhaps not in your life
or mine- will this grand miracle ensue.
But on, we march- endure the stress and strife,
and pray that peace on Earth someday is true.
Our Xanadu- sweet worldwide peace, fulfilled;
not just a flight of fancy, or lost hope;
but firm reality our leaders build-
in taking down our “war-or-peace” tightrope.
** An exercise: write a sonnet in iambic pentameter.
With heavy heart, I offer my remorse,
for I'm too tired to dance this weary eve.
The echoes of my workday's tireless chores
linger, leaving naught but fatigue's relief.
Oh, believe me, I hate to disappoint,
for the music tempts me to sway and dance.
But the hours I've toiled, each task and each point,
have drained me to a tired nudnik, perchance.
My spirit, once bright, now longs for respite,
to find solace in rest and heal my self.
Though my love for dance burns hot like cordite,
exhaustion demands I stay on the shelf.
Forgive me, my friend, tonight I must rest,
but once refreshed, we’ll fete and dance with zest.
.
.
Webster: Nudnik = a boring person
The moon was peeking through the naked trees
The breeze that blew that day had gone to bed
A lonely nightingale perched overhead
Harassed the silence with his sad reprise
The creaking porch swing's old familiar tune
No fitting lyrics could I ever write
To my sweet love on this warm firefly night
The melancholic song I'd never croon
Ten trillion stars, a shimmering chemise
Which cloaked the sky in sparkles green and red
Connected by the rays of golden thread
How could one tire, admiring nights like these?
Upon magnolia trees, blossoms were strewn
The nightingale heard his call and took flight
I might sit here until the morning light
Like days of old, these nights would make us swoon
Sending Love to My Papa
Underneath his multiple dark layers,
He was desperately seeking the light.
Wolves dressed in sheep’s clothing his betrayers,
Kinsman who disregarded his cruel plight.
Memories of guilt, loneliness, and shame,
Ruined and fragmented his tortured soul.
Years of misdeeds and their utter disdain,
He spiraled down an abysmal hellhole.
Tragic mother’s attempt at suicide.
Philandering father bedding hussies.
Abandoned precious children mortified.
Devastating hearts of blameless babies.
Ignored was the beauty of innocence,
Unearthed by kind love and strong resilience.
It's party time again, my furry friends!
Come see the pretty table set for you!
With cups and saucers, teapot- my call sends
an invitation- now come all, please do!
Quick came two Tabbies, one Tuxedo cat,
and our sweet Border Collie, I call Sam-
along with Teddy, who so quickly sat
and growled, "Yes, I am furry too- I am!"
They pay attention to the tales I tell-
to entertain while we all sit and drink.
I know they like my stories very well-
they look at me with happy eyes that wink!
Oh, I'm so very happy when we meet-
enjoy our teatime fun, just them and me.
Our cozy gatherings are such a treat!
I share my love with them- not just my tea!
It snowed and snowed on the day I was born,
in dreams, I walk the frozen woods till morn . . .
And from my pen the words just drip and flow,
and for that reason I love falling snow . . .
___________________________
March 19, 2021 ( Edit from 2016)
Poetry/Iambic Pentamater/My Inspiration
Copyright Protected, ID 03-1337-388-19
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France