Romance Poems | Examples of Romance Poetry

That moon by romancing is made, I never know what people do. But its love light has picked your face. That moon by romancing is made, Sets my fingertips to the day — A night that's between me and you That moon by romancing is made. I never know what people do....

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up the hill so I can see you tootle-ha and wielding your smile from dawn to twilight waving tootle-loo in valley I can touch your flesh eat you up with you sup my buttercup of moonshine no need to move lips in your arms can hear chest beating and the roar of the sea as your lips slip between shells and the sun melts me up on top you look down at me I’m the...

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An exposed dip in the lake intoxicated by ache. Led by erratic heartbeat knotty pheromones excrete....

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Your ambrosial taste lingers upon my lips as if kissed by a rose-red berry...

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Alas, my heart! Breathe. Behave. A saviour awaits your sinking gaze Too much of your eyes would set it all ablaze. Bring with you a lamp so bright Burn my kingdom. Alas, we’d be the only ones alive. ...

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A bouquet of fresh air never fades. In an intimate setting. The ocean is veiled in secrecy. Murmuration's breathtaking patterns. Starlings moving as one entity. The ego is a third party. Your secret admirer. Harmony without effort in nature, dreaming up a vast green pasture. This is no ordinary slumber. Sweet, rose-colored winds of change, The ocean is an incompatible weather vane. Dread and dream...

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It’s three o clock in the morning, Massaging her body while she is sleeping, The rain is coming down, it’s pouring, Covering her curves with my motion, No words but our bodies are our language, She’s got me caught up in her potion, Tonight I might fall in her river and hopefully I won’t drown oh no, Blaze your fire, Burning desire, Me and...

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JANUARY 2024 Hello, person. My person, who bathes and drifts in the steaming lake of blue And chirps a melody of solitude While strumming the oak guitar for the blaze. Hello to you-- If you want to hear my thoughts. My person, whose eyes bleed of the weeping willow's dye, Who holds the warmth of the stars in their skin, Who holds the wisps...

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Shall I compare thee to an elephant? Thou art a thousand times more relevant. 'Tis not from floppy ear doth ardor rise, Nor yet shall sinuous trunk knot love’s sweet ties; And if thou can’t stampede across the plains, Nor deftly roll in mud when monsoon rains, I find my heart shall hold here little lack, As pachyderm thou aren’t in love’s...

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His voice was near, his hands were far Porcelain and coated in paint I was revered, my skin unmarked By the artist disguised as the saint But the muse knows not, how one perceives She exists in and of the mind No more than a thought, no need to deceive She herself might as well be...

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Mere glimpse of her hair is enough, Today this much dare is enough. Hints of tears of love in her eyes, Such fond prize so rare is enough. She eyeing me with fleeting glance, To me such honour is enough. The dream of her beautiful lips, As investment fair it’s enough. Her hand held in hand can well wait, Today’s kiss in air is...

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The Cheshire Cat smiles Behind the dark velvet sky Where Fireflies wander...

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An African drum throbs from a distance. It is heyday and there is rejoicing. But ululations surround me suddenly, and tensions Climb gently the steps of a dancing heaven. As my lobes grow softer and my hair stands On the grounds of love, I sense the throbs on my hollow soul, Near, yet so far, for the wretched wench Whose sweet eyes I...

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They called it short gratification— but I lost my soul in the trade. A moment’s pleasure, for a lifetime of emptiness, a spark that consumed the temple I once was. O Woman, your body is not desire’s playground— it is the chalice of divinity. If you fail to respect your sacred form, no man ever will. Each man you lie with, leaves an imprint upon your soul. And...

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In the stillness of a soft-lit room, where whispers dance like fireflies, our breaths entwine, the air thick with unspoken thrill, a tender hesitation lingers before skin meets skin, warmth igniting in quiet anticipation. Fingers, fumbling yet eager, trace the curves of new terrain, a map yet to...

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