Love Quotes and poems

1Music tumbled from her pretty lips and when she spoke the language of the universe—the stars sighed in unison. —Michael Faudet 2. There is a place of peace There is a place of joy A place away from loneliness A place away from pain That place is next to you A secret garden Where black and white becomes a colorful place Of loving, kisses, touching, caressing, There with you and only you Cares of the world melting away Anger and fear are not allowed Prejudice cannot enter A place where two hearts beat as one A place where two souls are interwoven, Touching the inner-place of one another A place that I long to come back to again and again A place of sweet abandon A place next to you — Rocky Stonehedge 3. What sound was that? I turn away, into the shaking room. What was that sound that came in on the dark? What is this maze of light it leaves us in? What is this stance we take, To turn away and then turn back? What did we hear? It was the breath we took when we first met. Listen. It is here. — Harold Pinter 4. You gave light to my soul You helped me to be whole I have felt love for you before And it will be more and more, You are mine, my dear You are the angel from above Who taught me how to love. Please, forever keep me near. — Anonymous 5. When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love false or true, But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you, And loved the sorrows of your changing face; And bending down beside the glowing bars, Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled And paced upon the mountains overhead And hid his face amid a crowd of stars. — William Butler Yeats 6. Though the sun sets and finalizes another day, It leaves us with an array of color and hope, Hope that a new day will come, Hope that life with you will continue to be as beautiful As it is now. It fills my heart with gladness knowing that Though the sun is being replaced with night, When I lay my head to rest, You will be by my side, Comforting me tonight. — Aaron Stone 7. I don’t think you will Ever fully understand How you touched my life And made me who I am. You are the keeper of my dreams, The man who holds my heart, The one I want to spend my life with, The one with whom I will always stand. Stand beside through thick and thin Through all that life throws our way Knowing that this special love we share Will guide us each and every day. I don’t think you could ever feel All the love I have to give, And I’m sure you never realize You’ve been my will to live. — Stephanie Schiavone 8. I can only hope for this loving grace, To continue and never end. You are more than I have ever deserved, I cannot even comprehend. I love you more than I probably share, May you understand and see this truth. I always have and always will, Now in my prime, started in my youth. — Anonymous 9. Drink to me only with thine eyes And I will pledge with mine. Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I’ll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove’s nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much hon’ring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon did’st only breathe, And sent’st it back to me, Since when it grows and smells, I swear Not of itself, but thee. — Ben Johnson 10. Escape me? Never— Beloved! While I am I, and you are you, So long as the world contains us both, Me the loving and you the loth, While the one eludes, must the other pursue. My life is a fault at last, I fear— It seems too much like a fate, indeed! Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed— But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, To dry one’s eyes and laugh at a fall, And baffled, get up to begin again,— So the chase takes up one’s life, that’s all. While, look but once from your farthest bound, At me so deep in the dust and dark, No sooner the old hope drops to ground Than a new one, straight to the selfsame mark, I shape me— Ever Removed! — Robert Browning 11. You brought me sunshine when I only saw rain. You brought me laughter when I only felt pain. Romantics at heart? Love at first sight? Have I known you before? God! This feels so right! Have I met you before? Another time, another place? If it’s only one night, will it bring us disgrace? What are these feelings? Must they be temporary? Just to make you happy seems so necessary. I want you to know, ’cause I’ll never forget – knowing your smile, your kisses and yet… Dreams are something, that can’t always come true, nothing more we can say, nothing more we can do. — Donna Donathan 12. A sweet disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness: A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction– An erring lace, which here and there Enthrals the crimson stomacher– A cuff neglectful, and thereby Ribbands to flow confusedly– A winning wave, deserving note, In the tempestuous petticoat– A careless shoe-string, in whose tie I see a wild civility– Do more bewitch me than when art Is too precise in every part. — Robert Herrick 13. At last, when all the summer shine That warmed life’s early hours is past, Your loving fingers seek for mine And hold them close – at last – at last! Not loft the robin comes to build Its nest upon the leafless bough By autumn robbed, by winter chilled, – But you, dear heart, you love me now. Though there are shadows on my brow And furrows on my cheek, in truth, – The marks where Time’s remorseless plough Broke up the blooming sward of Youth, – Though fled is every girlish grace Might win or hold a lover’s vow, Despite my sad and faded face, And darkened heart, you love me now! I count no more my wasted tears; They left no echo of their fall; I mourn no more my lonesome years; This blessed hour atones for all. I fear not all that Time or Fate May bring to burden heart or brow, – Strong in the love that came so late, Our souls shall keep it always now! — Elizabeth Akers Allen 14. Why is it that my heart still skips a beat, every time I feel your touch? How is it that someone so wonderful, let’s me love them oh so very much? — Anonymous 15. I wish I could remember that first day, First hour, first moment of your meeting me, If bright or dim the season, it might be Summer or Winter for aught I can say; So unrecorded did it slip away, So blind was I to see and to foresee, So dull to mark the budding of my tree That would not blossom yet for many a May … — Christina Rossetti 16. A stranger came to the door at eve, And he spoke the bridegroom fair. He bore a green-white stick in his hand, And, for all burden, care. He asked with the eyes more than the lips For a shelter for the night, And he turned and looked at the road afar Without a window light. The bridegroom came forth into the porch With, ‘Let us look at the sky, And question what of the night to be, Stranger, you and I.’ The woodbine leaves littered the yard, The woodbine berries were blue, Autumn, yes, winter was in the wind; ‘Stranger, I wish I knew.’ Within, the bride in the dusk alone Bent over the open fire, Her face rose-red with the glowing coal And the thought of the heart’s desire. The bridegroom looked at the weary road, Yet saw but her within, And wished her heart in a case of gold And pinned with a silver pin. The bridegroom thought it little to give A dole of bread, a purse, A heartfelt prayer for the poor of God, Or for the rich a curse; But whether or not a man was asked To mar the love of two By harboring woe in the bridal house, The bridegroom wished he knew. — Robert Frost 17. The grey sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low; And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow, And quench its speed i’ the slushy sand. Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach; Three fields to cross till a farm appears; A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch And blue spurt of a lighted match, And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears, Than the two hearts beating each to each! — Robert Browning 18. O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune. So 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 love 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, Though it were ten thousand mile. — Robert Burns 19. This is a word we use to plug holes with. It’s the right size for those warm blanks in speech, for those red heart- shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing like real hearts. Add lace and you can sell it. We insert it also in the one empty space on the printed form that comes with no instructions. There are whole magazines with not much in them but the word love, you can rub it all over your body and you can cook with it too. How do we know it isn’t what goes on at the cool debaucheries of slugs under damp pieces of cardboard? As for the weed- seedlings nosing their tough snouts up among the lettuces, they shout it. Love! Love! sing the soldiers, raising their glittering knives in salute. Then there’s the two of us. This word is far too short for us, it has only four letters, too sparse to fill those deep bare vacuums between the stars that press on us with their deafness. It’s not love we don’t wish to fall into, but that fear. this word is not enough but it will have to do. It’s a single vowel in this metallic silence, a mouth that says O again and again in wonder and pain, a breath, a finger grip on a cliffside. You can hold on or let go. — Margaret Atwood 20. How does Love speak? In the faint flush upon the telltale cheek, And in the pallor that succeeds it; by The quivering lid of an averted eye– The smile that proves the parent to a sigh Thus doth Love speak. How does Love speak? By the uneven heart-throbs, and the freak Of bounding pulses that stand still and ache, While new emotions, like strange barges, make Along vein-channels their disturbing course; Still as the dawn, and with the dawn’s swift force– Thus doth Love speak. How does Love speak? In the avoidance of that which we seek– The sudden silence and reserve when near– The eye that glistens with an unshed tear– The joy that seems the counterpart of fear, As the alarmed heart leaps in the breast, And knows, and names, and greets its godlike guest– Thus doth Love speak. How does Love speak? In the proud spirit suddenly grown meek– The haughty heart grown humble; in the tender And unnamed light that floods the world with splendor; In the resemblance which the fond eyes trace In all fair things to one beloved face; In the shy touch of hands that thrill and tremble; In looks and lips that can no more dissemble– Thus doth Love speak. How does Love speak? In the wild words that uttered seem so weak They shrink ashamed in silence; in the fire Glance strikes with glance, swift flashing high and higher, Like lightnings that precede the mighty storm; In the deep, soulful stillness; in the warm, Impassioned tide that sweeps through throbbing veins, Between the shores of keen delights and pains; In the embrace where madness melts in bliss, And in the convulsive rapture of a kiss— Thus doth Love speak. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox to be continued...