Long Love poetry Poems
Long Love poetry Poems. Below are the most popular long Love poetry by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Love poetry poems by poem length and keyword.
SO I WROTE REFLECT
One beautiful morning in December,
the sun shone brightly.
I looked at the blue sky
and thought of what I had.
As the year was ending,
it was a good time to reflect
on what I had accomplished,
and what I can do for the next year.
What I can continually give
to my loved ones and my friends,
what I can change to be better
and how I can show and spread
goodness and kindness.
So I wrote Reflect to persuade
others to reflect on the things
they had and they received
and to appreciate them all.
To remember loved ones and friends
to determine and realize how they can be
so interesting, astonishing and adoring,
so we can be more caring
and can give more loving.
To throw a toast to the year ending,
to the coming new year and to life,
a very wonderful blessing.
So I wrote a poem, Reflect,
texted them to all the people I know,
printed and inserted the poem
in the Christmas cards I sent out.
And so I wrote a poem, Reflect
to share and think about.
10/14/20 And So I Wrote A Poem John Lawless
It is sonorous blue velvet,
a mitten with a thousand invisible fingers.
A concerto for dyslexic mystics.
The composer peeks nervously at the listeners
then rips open his uttering heart
until blood forms love poetry in the air.
We are all haunted by the music.
It cuts through our tangled underbrush
as a machete made of moonlight.
It speaks words
you always thought were yours alone.
Nothing comes closer,
it incinerates and restores
while rocking you into an oceanic euphoria;
a personal ocean
one larger then you ever imagined
could be contained within you.
Of cause only a Russian
can dish our the pain of love
and make you long for it.
Only Rachmaninoff
spellbinds while leaving you
stunned, wanting to dip a toe
into the deep tides of his God-space.
Signed sealed delivered I'm yours
Words of affirmation in your letters of love
Vintage cursive feelings flow from the ink of your pen
I discover my reflection as I reread the note again
Each time is like the first time I can't stop reading
Or thinking
About you, the book I don't want to put down
The book we're still writing, my favorite story
My favorite part is her signature
Because she stamps the mail with a strawberry lipstick
Stained love letters I don't want to wash from my mind
The smell of her strawberries let's my heart feel her lips
p.s. your letters kiss my heart like I've never been kissed...
You make my day with
white words you say
I wear your handwriting
As if you decide my fate
I’m hopelessly in love
With you life is an adventure
My red heart like an arrow
Shot across blue skies
Where a sparrow flies
You send me to the moon
And I swoon at your feet
What’s even better is
You’re clever to also love me
Despite my cheekiness
I enjoy our little chats
And even our spats
Relationship dips into our souls
We make love like doves
In a sky of vivid rainbows
I wear your handwriting
In my womb where children bloom
A product of our union
Each breath I take feels
Like I’m drowning in a lake
Of love but you save me
With a chocolate kiss
Full of air light and bliss
I wear your handwriting
In my red heart of art
Bleeding poetic psalms
Beating dancing like star
Bringing joyful light where
Once was black dark
With the slightest kiss
Creating kinetic spark
I tattoo your spirit
With blue ink of my heart
Wear my handwriting
Whether near me or far
Bonded by chemistry
Cherish our unity
Love forever bonding
With my absorbency nature
I take in freely God’s flowing grace
Accumulating with abundance from Christ’s compassion*-store
Optimizing the Saviour’s goodness as I’m soaked in His mercy-grants.
Midst my squeezable trait
I give kindness with whole earnestness
Loading out forgiveness with forbearance-cheer
Maximizing offered provisions up to the last drip’s supply.
In my partnership with the Lord’s hand
I can cleanse, wash, and sanitize:
sanctifying the defiled, transforming with righteousness
pardoning iniquities, beautifying midst gentleness’ long suffering.
By my willingness, never reluctant
I’m ready to be emptied, accomplishing my designed fulfillment…
Thus, keep me showing my true worth of precious value
As you exercise your loving power over me with all your best and utmost.
*Psalm 86:15 But thou, O Lord, art a God full of compassion, and gracious, longsuffering, and plenteous in mercy and truth.
November 9, 2019
2nd place, "Metaphor of Love" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Bobby May; judged on 11/12/2019.
I wanted to give you the poppies field
and the stars, the blue vault,
but full of love, shy, and clumsy,
I gave you a rose in a jar instead.
I wanted to give you precious stones,
beautiful pearls,
but full of love, quiet, in the evening,
I gave you only warm kisses instead.
I wanted to give you the trees and the forest,
and wings to ascend to the wonderful sky,
but full of love when we walked wandering the streets,
I took your hand instead and never let it go.
I wanted to give you waters, springs,
hills and mountains and the rainbow,
but full of love - on a holy day,
I gave you my heart and the key of its lock.
Staring into the deep
Life is a metaphor and I am simply its ball.
I bounce off walls and as I rise, I fall.
Just looking for the right time to say the right word,
Because it would feel so wrong if I let myself fail
And my words were never heard.
Life is a story, never foreseen and never before told.
It is still being written and we are still on the right road.
A long way from home, heading into the unknown.
I cannot afford to be close to you, because of all the charity I owe.
An image of a scarecrow drifts into my mind,
To remind me of a scarier time that made me impulsively act alive.
I saw the signs; I have to sigh,
To let it all go, by leaving it all behind.
When I am gone, my writings will remain, I hope,
Because all I know is how to be honest and how to never grow old.
A war and peace of trying to become all that I can,
Could be lost in an instant, if I am not given a second chance.
I hold on tight to the belief in what I write,
Because I am only alive as a word upon a line.
Love is awesome; I am not.
Point my finger at the side of my own head,
Shout bang aloud to the sound of a shot.
Fall to my knees to grieve the loss of all I did.
As I stare into a mind that looks like a hall of mirrors.
My thoughts all say
“I am with stupid.”
Many faces have lived my life;
Many tongues will tell my tale.
Many choices I have tried to get right,
But I have no cure to my success in the fail.
Slippery when wet, so hold on tight,
I would never want you to fall over.
I have my crutch to lift me up;
A cure to getting older.
Love is a balloon and you are all playing with pins.
Pop goes the feeble.
You have lost all that which once was…
Now all there is; is the sequel.
Inside my chest a heart of the ocean is buried,
So deep beneath, that it may never become married.
But love is so warm; such joy! Another say cheese moment to be found.
Dreaming of an everlasting, while keeping my feet on solid ground.
A promise sworn; no need to be scared.
Life is a sea of fishes,
So collect your entitlement to love;
For they will always be there.
(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Seduction is something profound...
It doesn't just come from the beauty!
seduction arises without
at least show yourself
muscles or curves....
Seduction resides within,
deep inside the mind...
if place of of lust
displays sensual indifference...
If lieu of fortress,
shows haughty submission...
The pleasure of seduction will make
all the difference...
Man doesn't have that subtlety.
Yes, women have this leadership...
The alpha male is linear in his
voracity to enjoy...
Uniforms that are, little
seduce using appropriate
artifice... they want seduction
of being seduced... pure vanity... !
Venus, Aphrodite, and all women,
are irresistible when inaccessible!
Women seduce much more,
and men like that.
wish it...
Speaking of seduction,
beloved woman... lovely female,
femme fatale, seduce me...
Please, I beg you...
Now listen to me, my Lover; is there love as sweet as love this?
Then lo! wither thou art, there in that far wall
a single flower is frozen, and through the hole is a voice.
See her pretty breast, whereon there kisses I beat,
till from the wall I hear her song on the steps.
Is it I?—no, but it's my own.
I have never known thy love;
I have never said that I loved thee;
But now the walls that kept her apart
have let me in, and I can say it.
At the sight of it all
the tender thoughts of love
of that sad flower
Come and they tread
Upon the blooming thoughts of me.
Now I hold the flower,
and play with her rosy lips;
I kiss the blade of thorns,
I seize the stem,
and press my lips against the petal.
It is not my flower, it is not my love;
It is but her sadness and her grief.
I hold it and let it go.
We are equal in tears:
And this sad flower
When it is once freed
Shall come and say
How sad she was!
Again I kiss her stem,
And pass from the courtyard.
And then shall I knell.
:: 07.05.2022 ::
A cobwebby, antiquated and
moldy. Folded pages marked by
dried tears and pressed flower
from an unforgettable love from
former sweetheart.
A classical romance, aged and
lovingly kept in between the
layers and pages, with yellowish
color from pressed flower. A memory
of a deceitful stained sin heart, left
no traces in the midsts, except,
Old scent of love poetry book at times,
overwhelming the senses, the sweet
fragrance of staleness, haunting, the
old crispy pressed flowers, reminiscing
the nostalgic love, hanging in mid-air.
It tricks the sense of smell, mind
and heart, agreed that the old scent
of poetry, still swirling the fragrance
of a lost love, haunting a desolate
soul, still longing for him to return..
©aroque
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