Love Personification Poems | Examples
These Love Personification poems are examples of Personification poems about Love. These are the best examples of Personification Love poems written by international poets.
step …
across the sill
this haunted house
walls of torn paper, dripping
crumbling plaster ceilings
hanging like rotten vines on a gaunt
and bony frame
dark, broken windows, the
empty eyes that stare -
once aglow with
the bright from within
life and light … and love
made a home
until …
just an ember -
one flame of your kiss -
and it was gutted
burned raw and ruined
with no thought to what filled these rooms
or graced the facades
or warmed the meager marrow …
now all phantoms
howling in the barren halls
sodden and saddened
for sake of the abandoned -
the threadbare -
dilapidated … desolate
welcome to the
vacancy …
your fool.
Copyright © 2023 Gregory Richard Barden
( artwork is a number two pencil sketch of the cottage from “Summer of ‘42” by the poet )
"For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed." - beautifulnow.is
Autumn tiptoed in after summer.
I reminisce of the silent kiss
she left as droplets on the delicate florets
of one beautiful, bright chrysanthemum.
Her early morning tryst went undetected
until the evidence of it glistened
in the light of a sweet September dawn.
I spotted that lovely mum blushing pink
from the visit Autumn made just before King Sun peeked down
from his throne of gold on high in the brilliant sky
when he caught the goddess bidding a fond farewell
to the flower she had been deliciously romancing.
Too many times to count has Autumn visited
other flowers, leaving her fleeting touch of love
which puts a glow on their pretty petaled faces,
but each of her kisses is evanescent.
In that moment I recall, one chrysanthemum
glowed most gloriously from the silent kiss.
love has no conditions
no contract
no absolutes
no rules or regulations
love is automatic
she cannot be thwarted or obliterated
you cannot talk her out of herself
love demands freedom
she loves who she loves
she owes no one an explanation
or an apology
love is a soul feeling
she cannot help herself
I am the voice of your conscience
You would bury my memory
Erase me from your history books
But I refuse to go away, I refuse to die
Here I am today, thousands of years after
you would have buried me in Modi’in…
in Jerusalem… at the tip of Mohammed’s sword…
in Torquemada’s Spain… in Luther's ‘Reformation’
In your swarming Eastern and Western European ghettos
in Czarist Russia, in Stalin’s USSR, in Hitler’s Third Reich
in Poland, Lithuania, Egypt, Syria Lebanon, in ‘Palestine’ too…
Yet I, the Jew, voice of your conscience, stand my ground
To remind you that my unshakeable love of God and my People Israel
is stronger than your visceral hatred of my redoubtable faith...
For 'Mother Russia,’ 'Nationalist China,’ 'America the Free’ will go the way
of Ancient Greece and Babylon ~ but I shall still be around…
"Pretty clouds filled with water, then it rains down." By Poet
I love to sit and watch the clouds,
as they dance across the big blue sky.
If I watch and wait what will I see,
animals like a zoo walking by.
One day I ask a big bright white cloud,
where are you going?
I was shocked when it answered back,
off to play it replied to me.
I did not know clouds could talk,
then I heard back-as a rule we don't.
I asked-how can pretty clouds rain down?
We get sad from traveling over the world,
when we have had enough then we rain tears down.
I don’t feel loved by the person I love so much I think it’s best to treat him the way he treats me and just give up on him just how he gave up on me. God knows I be trying so much but everything it’s still the same so why even continue fighting for someone that won’t even fight for me. I just quit fighting for him. This battle is over I quit fighting for someone that doesn’t even care for me and will never fight for me or even defend me.
How can I express myself when every time I do you think I’m arguing. How can I express myself when you don’t listen? How can I express myself when you’re not there? How can I express myself when I don’t trust you? How can I express myself when you don’t love me? How can I express myself when you don’t care? How can I express myself, knowing that you lied to me? I feel that the only way for me to express myself to you is by phone or by text or by me just writing it on my notes or posting it on social media because I can’t even express myself to you face to face. That I wonder too myself is this is how even how it should be to express myself. A lot go though my mind that I just wish I could just express it you but like I say how can I express myself when every time I do you think I’m arguing. How can I express myself when you don’t listen? How can I express myself when you’re not there? How can I express myself when I don’t trust you? How can I express myself when you don’t love me? How can I express myself when you don’t care? How can I express myself, knowing that you lied to me?
Knock knock who’s there it’s the person that always loved you I’m just here to tell you that I’m letting you go because I know that dip down in your heart am no longer there and setting you free so you don’t have to pretend anymore. Bye wish you the best. Now let me find my real love.
"A day goes better with pretty flowers." Quote By Poet...
As spring is being born again,
my head is emerging in a flower garden of love.
My pink rose face is enjoying the new warmth,
the warmth from this new day's sun.
As I grow,
I see you also coming up from the cold ground.
My love,
with deep dark arms of green leaves.
Soon we can once again embrace,
wrapping our love around each other.
Yes,
we are in a rose garden of love.
Violently thrashing and jerking and pulling
It implores me to act
Desperate to stay alive in it's final hour
Reminding me of our pact
It pleads, it begs, It cries to me
All the while concealing it's fangs
It tears me apart inside
It hammers, it pounds, and it bangs
A love earst alive and warm and real
Now cold and cooling yet
Longing to be revived, it's fighting
Refusing to lose the bet
Once nurtured now neglected, alone and afraid
I must let it die
And to ensure it won't return a spectre tomorrow
I'll stare it in the eye
When iridescent light collided with dark matter you were conceived. (Again)
In places of decadence beyond my perception, we interweave.(Event)
Saturated with strands of fiber from the great traits handed on
from the souls that speak without words aloud, but are glean, nundating and heard.
The transition we vaguely recall in our dreams as bairn sprits.
That reminds that we are small, that we travel forever in time.
Heading towards wisdom gained and amassed in collection, ( destination)
we stay a course towards becoming more than we can dream.
As we try to recall each time it occurred, it fades away like seasons.
Yet, I feel the grains filling the trug of my heart and mind.
Once the star is born, fusion becomes life, becomes red, becomes white, then becomes darkness.
The circle continues and begins again with a conscience remembering of all that is gained, all that is lost, and all that we'll become. (Sparks)
Master, my eyes now have cataracts,
my bones ache and stiffen when I rise,
I cannot chase squirrels like I used to,
nor fetch a tennis ball the way I did
as a pup,
but I love living with my family,
and the gentle pats on my head.
Though the long walks have shortened,
and there's gray fur on my muzzle,
I enjoy napping more during the day.
Master, thank you for taking me to
the vet,
for my health and comfort.
The sun filters through the window warmly,
as I recall seeing the children grow up,
I have the dignity of an elder dog,
blessed by God to be with my kind
human companions,
who adopted me from an animal shelter. ~
I feel like I can go now,
I don't know that somehow,
It is just for the show,
The boat starts to row,
I began to go with the flow,
No matter if the tide is low,
It is what I reap and sow.
It is a sense of fashion,
It is still my passion,
There is nothing to mention,
I put on a lotion,
It is not a love potion,
I set myself into motion.
Torned pages turned into a papyrus tree,
Exciting fireworks set into a glee,
The spotlight hit the same place,
To save some private space,
What is it all about just to set me free?
The hind of salt and pepper,
The seasoning is proper,
I know it is a show-stopper,
I don't need a kitchen helper,
To set my meal on the table.
Let it be sunny,
Look, there is the bunny,
A pot of honey,
Pour into the glistening of willing,
I saw myself being silly.
I learned to love myself, alone,
In quiet nights, in whispered tones.
Before I searched for love outside,
I healed the wounds I couldn't hide.
I felt the sting of words once spoken,
A heart once whole now torn and broken.
But in that pain, I found my way,
A stronger soul, a brighter day.
For love is not just sweet and kind,
It’s also strength that we must find.
Even when the world turns cold,
I hold myself, my heart, my soul.
If someone leaves, if trust is lost,
I’ll never count the heavy cost.
For though it hurts, I still remain,
A heart that beats through all the pain
I am not weak, I will not fall,
Even in heartache, I stand tall.
For love begins, not from the start,
But deep within a mended heart.
So if you break me, take my trust,
I’ll rise again, because I must.
For love, though tender, sweet, and true,
Begins with me, and it’s my view.
By Anna A Tauvaa
In the pure bright wake, I went fishing’ for calm and all I caught was tumblin’ time.
The hours were soppin’wet with pond scum and the seconds kept getting’ away as soon as I thought I had them hooked.
The minutes peered up at me from the crepuscular waters and told a lie. “Be patient, those seconds can’t escape forever! You can get them, we just know it!”
They spoke with bubbles in their mouths, then those minutes were gone.
I struggled with my fishin’ pole, the line hopelessly tangled with some phantasmic bugbear, my nightmares come alive! Probably a log, though.
The hours in my bucket (catch of the day!) pulled me from my musing with weepin’ and howlin’, it was all so unlovely. What were they cryin’ about?
“Our beloved minutes! Precious seconds! We are in ruin without them, can’t exist without them,” the poor things whimpered.
I kicked the bucket over and the dark water inside spilled the trapped hours onto the dock and over the edge. Sploosh! Plop!
The hours proclaimed a love that is by far the only great love there is. Flawless. Desperate. Irrevocable. This paramour is unheard of! I heard the whispers on the bubbles.