Romantic Poems

Some lovely romantic poems here - but we need more! Send yours in today here. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

      
Dear Princess

by Wayne 
 
Every time I read your words, I want to get to know you,
every time I see your fine photos, I just want to meet you,
every time I see your beautiful lips, I want to kiss you,
every time I look at your beautiful eyes - I'm mesmerised by you,
 
The last two relationships you had: those two guys treated you badly, 
I think they where crazy,
 
I think they where crazy to let you go, 
your like a beautiful white dove - pure and innocent, gentle, graceful
-
and so sweat, 
your the kind of person I've been longing to meet.
 
I think any guy would be lucky to have you, 
I think God put you on this earth so that people will adore you,
 
your body is precious,
your mind and spirit is priceless,
I want us to be happy so that nothing comes between us,
 
My beautiful princess, I want you to be my Queen.

 

 

 

A Beacon Of Light 
Mario William Vitale, Wolcott, Ct. 06716

A whisper was softly heard
As the novice takes note
In the distance a glimmering light;
Reflections of our past in view...
Shadows proned into desolation
To equate logic persuasion
As a beacon of light to a hurting world,
Just can't help but to claim an intent or answer.
Gone our the days in ways
These are uncertain times
For many have tasted ill but faded rhymes;
Send the troops home
No reason for them to roam
The casualties are enormous
For a stated cause that's atrocious.
Yet the beacon of light shines forth;
Passerby's can't escape the helping hand of its sparkling radiance!

 

 

 

 

On The Train

Gillian Clarke

 

Cradled through England between flooded fields
rocking, rocking the rails, my head-phones on,
the black box of my Walkman on the table.
Hot tea trembles in its plastic cup.
I'm thinking of you waking in our bed
thinking of me on the train. Too soon to phone.

The radio speaks in the suburbs, in commuter towns,
in cars unloading children at school gates,
is silenced in dark parkways down the line
before locks click and footprints track the frost
and trains slide out of stations in the dawn
dreaming their way towards the blazing bone-ship.

The vodaphone you are calling
may have been switched off.
Please call later. And calling later,
calling later their phones ring in the rubble
and in the rubble of suburban kitchens
the wolves howl into silent telephones.

I phone. No answer. Where are you now?
The train moves homeward through the morning
Tonight I'll be home safe, but talk to me, please.
Pick up the phone. Today I'm tolerant
of mobiles. Let them say it. I'll say it too.
Darling, I'm on the train.

 

 

THERE IS BUT NO COMPARISON
      Anna, London, UK
      
      On my clothes, on my bed, your scent lingers welcomely 
      you return my tshirt i left you wearing and it smells like
      memories       
       
      the softness of your lips and the warmth in your eyes entraps in
      my memory
      I listen to music that reminds me of your smile and all is but
      near perfect 
       
       Around you I am
      confident and yet cautious, 
      hopeful yet realistic, 
      trapped but not smothered        
       
      between us is something inescapable and indescribable, something
      in which no one else can relate.
      it's only you who can turn my wooden heart.

 

Poem by Wale Ajanosi

 

 The drums beats heavely, it is a marriage. An infant sits gently
      on the eyelids of his mother. Love is in the air. It is a surreal
      dance. The adults are drinkin palm wine. The bride lives for the
      wind, and is passionate about the waters. Which only Osun
      breathes.

 

STRANGE TO THINK
      by Matt Goodfellow, Manchester, UK 
      
      Strange to think that far away
      you watch the softly dying day 
      whilst here the light is fresh and new 
      and warms me with the thought of you.

 

 

 

 

SONNET XVIII 
William Shakespeare

 

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimmed:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
   So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
   So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

 

 

HE LOVES ME HE LOVES ME NOT

Anon

 

One I love, two I love,

Three I love I say;

Four I love with all my heart,

Five I cast away.

Six he loves, seven she loves,

Eight they love together;

Nine he comes, ten he tarries,

Eleven he woos, and twelve he marries.