2006-12-06 23:36:52 · 14 answers · asked by nirjor 1 in Arts & Humanities ➔ Books & Authors
Raglan Road By Patrick Kavanagh. He lived a lonley life but he had a great love for women and it was genuine.He was a contankerous old romantic!
2006-12-07 01:13:44 · answer #1 · answered by up urs 3 · 0⤊ 1⤋
Make your own instant poem with the help of an internet love poem generator, such as http://www.links2love.com/poem_generator.htm ! It will probably be more comical than romantic, but it's fun! Just listen to the one I ended up with, and if your "heated ear" doesn't "leap to your dress" while reading it, maybe you will at least be "comforted by your shoe":
"Your skin glows like the orange, blossoms bright as the lily in the purest hope of spring.
My heart follows your flute voice and leaps like a lamb at the whisper of your name.
The evening floats in on a great bluebird wing.
I am comforted by your shoe that I carry into the twilight of cloudbeams and hold next to my hand.
I am filled with hope that I may dry your tears of water.
As my finger falls from my veil, it reminds me of your summer.
In the quiet, I listen for the last whisper of the day.
My heated ear leaps to my dress. I wait in the moonlight for your secret silver so that we may run as one, ear to ear, in search of the magnificient silver and mystical sword of love."
2006-12-07 06:28:29 · answer #2 · answered by AskAsk 5 · 0⤊ 0⤋
Search Louise Labe's poems for "Kiss Me". It's a sensual, romantic poem. She was a really talented French poet.
2006-12-07 00:42:56 · answer #3 · answered by Anonymous · 0⤊ 0⤋
John Donne's The Flea
2006-12-07 01:46:18 · answer #4 · answered by nat 3 · 0⤊ 0⤋
This is my favorite....
Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.
Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave
of silver born in you.
My struggle is harsh and I come back
with eyes tired
at times from having seen
the unchanging earth,
but when your laughter enters
it rises to the sky seeking me
and it opens for me all
the doors of life.
My love, in the darkest
hour your laughter
opens, and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the stones of the street,
laugh, because your laughter
will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.
Next to the sea in the autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foamy cascade,
and in the spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower I was waiting for,
the blue flower, the rose
of my echoing country.
Laugh at the night,
at the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at this clumsy
boy who loves you,
but when I open
my eyes and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for I would die.
Pablo Neruda
2006-12-07 00:11:22 · answer #5 · answered by rachel u 2 · 1⤊ 0⤋
O MY Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June!
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune!
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry?
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only Luve!
And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
Robert Burns.
2006-12-07 02:03:34 · answer #6 · answered by isthisinuisetoo 2 · 0⤊ 0⤋
2, 4, 6, 8 do you remember our first date? 3, 6, 9 i'm happy which you're all mine. crimson is crimson and Blue is blue, my heart bypass a beat whilst i think of of you. Now you know how i believe, wrap your hands around me and be uncomplicated. on your hands which you're conserving is all yours, my costly.
2016-10-14 05:00:08 · answer #7 · answered by ? 4 · 0⤊ 0⤋
If you want romance, ya can't beat Elizabeth Barrett Browning!
"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways..."
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
2006-12-06 23:45:53 · answer #8 · answered by auntcookie84 6 · 2⤊ 0⤋
Here's one my grandfather wrote for my grandmother (apparently):
She stood on the bridge at midnight,
Her lips were all a-quiver.
She gave a cough,
Her leg fell off
And floated down the river.
2006-12-06 23:43:33 · answer #9 · answered by Anonymous · 1⤊ 1⤋
what kinda r u lookin 4? i write poems email me n i'll help u.
2006-12-06 23:56:25 · answer #10 · answered by thatsspoiledangel2u 3 · 0⤊ 0⤋