love-poetry

Don't bow your head!It gets even harder...Look at meand say that, what was incomplete.Think of forbiddenand dream, as I do....

...You are here again,so realistic,just, the golden dawn takes you away in the morning...Be here now,not there,where there is nothingbut starsand emptiness......

She has a charm that is incomparable. She has a beautiful heart that flows with love. And she has a sensitive soul that enthralls with magic. She was the spark I had been waiting for all my life.

She is the fragrance of a dozen jasmines.

I spent all nightweaving a poem for you to wear. You look so beautifulwhen you wear my light.

You will fall with me as a stone in the grave

Time machine to the pastStep back a few yearsOld feelings, like LazarusSuddenly reappear.It's your song on the radioAnd it's your hand in mineAs this wave crashes over meOur stars again come unaligned.

Without the wetness of your love, the fragrance of your water, or the trickling sounds of your voice _ I shall always feel thirsty.

ld heads forgetful of their sins,Old, learned, respectable bald headsEdit and annotate the linesThat young men, tossing on their beds,Rhymed out in love__ despairTo flatter beauty__ ignorant ear.They__l cough in the ink to the world__ end;Wear out the carpet with their shoesEarning respect; have no strange friend;If they have sinned nobody knows.Lord, what would they sayShould their Catullus walk that way?

tell meof something fiercer than the love with which i gaze upon youof something softer than the tendernesswith which i hold you.

Green was the silence, wet was the light,the month of June trembled like a butterfly.

We will read books together inside the blanket and stay warm. And keep writing poetry in our respective journals. Time will fly but we will still remain inside the blanket forever.

Your eyes have the colour of the moon,

But, in the end, a kiss is just a kiss; I have no time for love, or seasoned lips.

Sometimes it feels like even ifEvery inch of my skin was touching yoursI still wouldn__ be close enough to you.

Call me obsessed, color me consumedI__e always been the type to noticeThe smell of a rose in bloom,But let me confess, this is newYou__e stopped my heart, let it resumeAnd I, to finish, must tell it trueI__ high on your perfume.

Love gives the best of highsBut also the worst of hangovers.

You are my drug of choiceI know you__e no good for meAnd though I swear my lipsWill never touch you againHere we are, here we are.