204 Quotes About Love-poems

You askif I will write a poemI could,I supposewrite the mostsplendiferousone of allbut notrightnownot whenyour handsare brewingwarmcinnamon teaacross my skinnot when I’mtrying to imaginewhat might happenif you beganfloweringkissesuponmeMy dear,how canI writea poemwhen I’m alreadyinside one?

The way a love letter longs to be read I long for you. The way the poor Kane longs for his sled I long for you. The way the moon longs for the dark of night I long for you. The way a nestling bird longs for flight I long for you. I am blessed and I am cursed. I have waited for so long. I need you to come to me. And remind me of who I was once.

They can award me with the greatest accolades and reward me with the finest diamonds. They can name days and streets after me, canonise and celebrate me. They can make me the queen of their kingdom, the president of their nation. They can carry my picture in their wallets and whisper my name in their prayers but, tell me, what is all this worth if your voice isn’t the one calling me home?

I didn’t know love could dispersewithout making a single seed grow,that longing after you in solitudewould become dearer to methan being in your arms.

The day you reached your pockets,giving me broken shells that I cherishedas the most precious jewels,I hoped that you, perhaps,will find missing pieces of your broken heart in me.I was wrong because you are still looking for them in someone else.

She once told me that she stalks me day and nightShe has me in her feelings and in her sight...Her heart keeps telling me things in the night that she is afraid to tell me in daylight...My heart know that she loves meBut life is strange and we never know where two people will end up nextLove and soul are not to beholdHer eyes speak in unknown wordsAnd we continue to drift sometimes nearerand sometimes apart!!

Your feet the steps you take are all poetry for me...

Is our closeness all smoke and mirrors,Just a figment in my mind?Do you know what all your in forWith a love like mine?I can show you what lies aheadIf we leave our lives behind

How strange is it that our beloved finds its way to us in everything? The orange moon, a freckle, the smell of coffee—are all bridges to the one we desire. How does our beloved find us in this way? Or are we the ones instead who find our beloved in everything? Our intense want of them necessitates the nearness of them. And so we seek beauty only to be flooded with the beauty of our beloved. And we write ellipses on the page only to be thrice reminded of the freckle below their lips...