Love Poems - How Do I love Thee?
I love your smile, when I see it I know your joy;
I love your tears, when they fall I know you are only human.
I love your eyes, they are the windows to your soul;
I love your ears, for they hear the words of love I speak.
I love your voice, it whispers to me in those dark moments, not only sweetness;
but the courage to go on.
I love the absence of your voice, in those moments when words can no longer convey meaning;
and the greatest gift is to listen.
I love your arms, for the warmth they bring when they wrap around me;
I love your hands, for those moments when you reach out, and tell me you are by my side.
I love your fingers, that draw hot lines across my flesh;
and raise such passion from the depths of my soul.
I love your breath, that breathes such sweetness into each kiss;
and last, but never least;
I love your heart, that beats a strong and steady pulse
So you may be alive each day, each moment
That you share with me.
I love your tears, when they fall I know you are only human.
I love your eyes, they are the windows to your soul;
I love your ears, for they hear the words of love I speak.
I love your voice, it whispers to me in those dark moments, not only sweetness;
but the courage to go on.
I love the absence of your voice, in those moments when words can no longer convey meaning;
and the greatest gift is to listen.
I love your arms, for the warmth they bring when they wrap around me;
I love your hands, for those moments when you reach out, and tell me you are by my side.
I love your fingers, that draw hot lines across my flesh;
and raise such passion from the depths of my soul.
I love your breath, that breathes such sweetness into each kiss;
and last, but never least;
I love your heart, that beats a strong and steady pulse
So you may be alive each day, each moment
That you share with me.
By Hilary Wheaton.
Although this poem was written for someone who no longer loves me, I still think it is beautiful and worth posting here. I don't think the lines lose any of their meaning, at least not for me and that is the reason one writes poetry in the first place. Yes, we may write about another, or for another, but ultimately what we write comes from inside us, and if it's not there, we have no muse.
posted by fluffylittlebunny @ 3:53 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home