Best love poems of all time

[Smilemaker100]

Hello everyone!

I thought I would start a thread in which people share their favorite love poems. I enjoy reading poetry. Here are but a few of some of my favorites...

ANNABEL LEE by Edgar Allan Poe

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kindgom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annable Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling,
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half as happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!-that was the reason
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I fell the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling-my darling-my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding of the sea.

TRUE LOVE by Leonard Cohen

As the mist leaves no scar
On the dark hill
So my body leaves no scar
On you and never will.

Through windows in the dark
The children come, the children go
Like arrows with no target
Like shackles made of snow.

True love leaves no traces
If you and I are one
It's lost in our embraces
Like stars against the sun.

As a falling leaf may rest
A moment in the air
So your head upon my breast
So my hand upon your hair.

And many nights endure
Without a moon, without a star
So will we endure
When one is gone and far.

True love leaves no traces
If you and I are one
It's lost in our embraces
Like stars against the sun.

AS I WALKED OUT ONE EVENING by W.H Auden

As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
"Love has no ending.

"I'll love you, dear. I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the moutain
And the salmon sing in the street,

I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world."

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
"O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

"In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time wil have his fancy
Tomorrow or today.

"Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.

"O plunge your hands in water
Plunge them in up to your wrist
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.

"The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the teacup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

"Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer
And Jill goes down on her back.

"O look, look in the mirror,
O look in your distress,
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

"O stand,stand at the window
As the tears scald and start
You shall love your crooked neighbor
With your crooked heart."

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.

SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY by Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that 's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light 5
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face; 10
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow, 15
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent

HOW DO I LOVE THEE? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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 every day'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 the 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.

SONNET 55 by William Shakespeare

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these cont?nts
Than unswept stone, besmeared with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgment that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lovers' eyes.

---

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[alison_in_oh]

I prefer, again from my buddy Bill:

Sonnet 130

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

 

[nachoDoc]

somewhere i have never travelled - e. e. cummings

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands


When You Are Old - W. B. Yeats (1865-1939)

When you are old and gray 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 his his face amid a crowd of stars.




Como Besaras? - Judith Pordon


Enciendanme tus labios
Nuestros alientos perdidos entremezclandose

Sincroniza nuestro silencio
al perezoso pasar de las horas.

LLeva el aire aromas de cacao,
nuez, canela que me rodean

Tiembla conmigo
con pausas paralizantes

Quiz? no pueda respirar m?s
sin respirarte a ti.

(How Will You Kiss? - Judith Pordon )

Lilt me your lips,
our lost breath intermingling.

Synchronize our silence
as lazy hours ease by.

Waft cocoa, hazelnut, cinnamon,
scents around me.

Tremble with me
in paralyzing pauses.

I may no longer breathe
without breathing you.



i carry your heart - e.e. cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart


for my

 

[Smilemaker100]

somewhere i have never travelled - e. e. cummings

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands


When You Are Old - W. B. Yeats (1865-1939)

When you are old and gray 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 his his face amid a crowd of stars.




Como Besaras? - Judith Pordon


Enciendanme tus labios
Nuestros alientos perdidos entremezclandose

Sincroniza nuestro silencio
al perezoso pasar de las horas.

LLeva el aire aromas de cacao,
nuez, canela que me rodean

Tiembla conmigo
con pausas paralizantes

Quiz? no pueda respirar m?s
sin respirarte a ti.

(How Will You Kiss? - Judith Pordon )

Lilt me your lips,
our lost breath intermingling.

Synchronize our silence
as lazy hours ease by.

Waft cocoa, hazelnut, cinnamon,
scents around me.

Tremble with me
in paralyzing pauses.

I may no longer breathe
without breathing you.



i carry your heart - e.e. cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart


for my

All very beautiful! I especially love the passage written by Cummings in "somewhere I have never travelled" which describes how a loved one's look can unclose you like the petals of a rose in spring. I also liked Yeat's description of true love in "When You Are Old." - how old age only reveals the truest love of all and how a man loves the "pilgrim soul" of his loved one as well as the "sorrows of her changing face." Love stories that have lasted many decades inspire me more than the more passionate love stories that last no more than a few years. I also loved the last passage in Cummings' " I carry you in my heart" in which he describes the "deepest secret."

Thanks, for that gift of beauty, "Grandpa." I have dedicated poetry to a few (perhaps it was a waste but in retrospect it is a memory of what was...some memories are bitter-sweet) how many have done so for me? A poem dedicated to your loved one is a gift that is priceless! *sigh* I don't think there are many men who would appreciate that.

 

[Smilemaker100]

I prefer, again from my buddy Bill:

Sonnet 130

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.

And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

You're really into Bill, aren't you , Alison?! Which of his plays is your favorite? (Or do you enjoy mostly his sonnets?).

 

[Smilemaker100]

Speaking of love poems...one of my all time favorites is a Biblical passage...
the Song of Solomon (Old Testament)...for those of you who don't know what I am talking about...I've only included the first four chapters- there are eight.

THE SONG OF SONGS


Chapter 1
The song of songs, which is Solomon's.
Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.
Because of the savour of thy good ointments thy name is as ointment poured forth, therefore do the virgins love thee.
Draw me, we will run after thee: the king hath brought me into his chambers: we will be glad and rejoice in thee, we will remember thy love more than wine: the upright love thee.
I am black, but comely, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, as the tents of Kedar, as the curtains of Solomon.
Look not upon me, because I am black, because the sun hath looked upon me: my mother's children were angry with me; they made me the keeper of the vineyards; but mine own vineyard have I not kept.
Tell me, O thou whom my soul loveth, where thou feedest, where thou makest thy flock to rest at noon: for why should I be as one that turneth aside by the flocks of thy companions?
If thou know not, O thou fairest among women, go thy way forth by the footsteps of the flock, and feed thy kids beside the shepherds' tents.
I have compared thee, O my love, to a company of horses in Pharaoh's chariots.
Thy cheeks are comely with rows of jewels, thy neck with chains of gold.
We will make thee borders of gold with studs of silver.
While the king sitteth at his table, my spikenard sendeth forth the smell thereof.
A bundle of myrrh is my well-beloved unto me; he shall lie all night betwixt my breasts.
My beloved is unto me as a cluster of camphire in the vineyards of Engedi.
Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes.
Behold, thou art fair, my beloved, yea, pleasant: also our bed is green.
The beams of our house are cedar, and our rafters of fir. [/I]

Chapter 2
I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.
As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.
Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.
His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.
I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.
The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.
My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice.
My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.
My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.
Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.


Chapter 3
By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.
I will rise now, and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.
The watchmen that go about the city found me: to whom I said, Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?
It was but a little that I passed from them, but I found him whom my soul loveth: I held him, and would not let him go, until I had brought him into my mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived me.
I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.
Who is this that cometh out of the wilderness like pillars of smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, with all powders of the merchant?
Behold his bed, which is Solomon's; threescore valiant men are about it, of the valiant of Israel.
They all hold swords, being expert in war: every man hath his sword upon his thigh because of fear in the night.
King Solomon made himself a chariot of the wood of Lebanon.
He made the pillars thereof of silver, the bottom thereof of gold, the covering of it of purple, the midst thereof being paved with love, for the daughters of Jerusalem.
Go forth, O ye daughters of Zion, and behold king Solomon with the crown wherewith his mother crowned him in the day of his espousals, and in the day of the gladness of his heart.

Chapter 4
Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.
Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, which came up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins, and none is barren among them.
Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is comely: thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within thy locks.
Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armoury, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.
Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.
Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.
Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.
Come with me from Lebanon, my spouse, with me from Lebanon: look from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, from the lions' dens, from the mountains of the leopards.
Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck.
How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse! how much better is thy love than wine! and the smell of thine ointments than all spices!
Thy lips, O my spouse, drop as the honeycomb: honey and milk are under thy tongue; and the smell of thy garments is like the smell of Lebanon.
A garden inclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.
Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; camphire, with spikenard,
Spikenard and saffron; calamus and cinnamon, with all trees of frankincense; myrrh and aloes, with all the chief spices:
A fountain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from Lebanon.
Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruits.

 

[nachoDoc]

A poem dedicated to your loved one is a gift that is priceless! *sigh* I don't think there are many men who would appreciate that.

So true! Here are a few of mine..

Free Flight

You smile assured
and look just so.
Your green eyes wide
with silent sighs
that only I know.
Only I realize,
your fragility.

Your smile's too soft
to go untoughed,
like ethereal clouds
on a florentine sky.
Still I lie
awake within this dream
replaying the scene
over and over again.

Beyond parted lace curtains
passed in a summer dream,
I held you just so....
and you smiled.

Forgive my disconcerning eyes
for you are much too wise
for dreams played in the rain
Can it ever be the same?

As your laughter fades with the sunrise
quietly,
in the shelter of your arms....
Somewhere in time...
I loved you.

Twilight

Twilight,

and the echo of raindrops

quietly fade into memory.

In sandlewood scented rooms,

the quiet is broken

only by the sound

of you and I

eye to eye,

laughing at the rain.

You

The billowy clouds of saddness lingering

on the glazed grass of dew clinging

settled round a willow tree

to still the sound

of nightingales singing.

Those distant sounds I cannot hear,

so far away and yet so near.

Each delicate note and lullaby,

is lost somewhere too close to hear.

This Venetian dream engulfs my awareness

and brings to mind an exquisite rareness.

Like some distant, very persistant,

thought that tries

to materialize

and lead me back

to thoughts of you.

 

[alison_in_oh]

You're really into Bill, aren't you , Alison?! Which of his plays is your favorite? (Or do you enjoy mostly his sonnets?).

Heh. I don't exactly read his works in my leisure time, but I'll admit that Midsummer Night's Dream always leaves me rolling on the floor and that there seems to be a W.S. sonnet for every situation.

Speaking of which, I'd like to apply Sonnet 130 to the Song of Solomon as well. I don't know about you, but if I had twin fawns for breasts I'd never get any work done!

 

[Smilemaker100]

So true! Here are a few of mine..

Free Flight

You smile assured
and look just so.
Your green eyes wide
with silent sighs
that only I know.
Only I realize,
your fragility.

Your smile's too soft
to go untoughed,
like ethereal clouds
on a florentine sky.
Still I lie
awake within this dream
replaying the scene
over and over again.

Beyond parted lace curtains
passed in a summer dream,
I held you just so....
and you smiled.

Forgive my disconcerning eyes
for you are much too wise
for dreams played in the rain
Can it ever be the same?

As your laughter fades with the sunrise
quietly,
in the shelter of your arms....
Somewhere in time...
I loved you.

Twilight

Twilight,

and the echo of raindrops

quietly fade into memory.

In sandlewood scented rooms,

the quiet is broken

only by the sound

of you and I

eye to eye,

laughing at the rain.

You

The billowy clouds of saddness lingering

on the glazed grass of dew clinging

settled round a willow tree

to still the sound

of nightingales singing.

Those distant sounds I cannot hear,

so far away and yet so near.

Each delicate note and lullaby,

is lost somewhere too close to hear.

This Venetian dream engulfs my awareness

and brings to mind an exquisite rareness.

Like some distant, very persistant,

thought that tries

to materialize

and lead me back

to thoughts of you.

Oh, Grandpa, those are so beautiful! I hope that you show them to your loved one. I know that if a man wrote poetry like that for me I would love them more than any jewel in the world he ever gave to me...I would faint and cry from happiness to know I am loved in that way. Like I said, poems are PRICELESS!!!!

 

[Smilemaker100]

Here is a french poem. I have included my translation in italics...excuse me for any imperfections in the translation...it's not my line of work!!!!

Aimons toujours! Aimons encore! par Victor Hugo

Aimons toujours ! Aimons encore !
Quand l'amour s'en va, l'espoir fuit.
L'amour, c'est le cri de l'aurore,
L'amour c'est l'hymne de la nuit.

(Let's love each other always! Let's love each other again!
When love is gone, hope is gone.
Love is the cry of the dawn
Love is the hymn of the night)

Ce que le flot dit aux rivages,
Ce que le vent dit aux vieux monts,
Ce que l'astre dit aux nuages,
C'est le mot ineffable : Aimons !

(What the streams tell to the shore,
What the wind tells to the old mountains,
What the stars tell to the clouds,
Is one ineffable word:Love !)

L'amour fait songer, vivre et croire.
Il a pour r?chauffer le coeur,
Un rayon de plus que la gloire,
Et ce rayon c'est le bonheur !

(Love makes one think, live and believe.
Love reheats the heart,
Another ray more than glory
And this ray is happiness)

Aime ! qu'on les loue ou les bl?me,
Toujours les grand coeurs aimeront :
Joins cette jeunesse de l'?me
A la jeunesse de ton front !

(Love! whether we praise or blame them
Big hearts will always love:
Join this youth of the soul
To the youth on your brow)

Aime, afin de charmer tes heures !
Afin qu'on voie en tes beaux yeux
Des volupt?s int?rieures
Le sourire myst?rieux !

(Love, in order to charm your hours!
In order that we see in your beautiful eyes
The voluptuous interiors
Of the mysterious smile!)

Aimons-nous toujours davantage !
Unissons-nous mieux chaque jour.
Les arbres croissent en feuillage ;
Que notre ?me croisse en amour !

(Let's love each other always!
Let's unite better every day.
The trees cross with each other through their foliage;
May our souls cross each other in love!)

Soyons le miroir et l'image !
Soyons la fleur et le parfum !
Les amants, qui, seuls sous l'ombrage,
Se sentent deux et ne sont qu'un !

(Let's be the mirror and the reflection!
Let's be the flower and the perfume!
Lovers, who, alone under a shade
Feel like two but are one!)

Les po?tes cherchent les belles.
La femme, ange aux chastes faveurs,
Aime ? rafra?chir sous ses ailes
Ces grand fronts br?lants et r?veurs.

(Poets seek the beauties.
Women, angels of chaste favours,
Loves to refresh under her wings
Those hot and dreaming brows .)

Venez ? nous, beaut?s touchantes !
Viens ? moi, toi, mon bien, ma loi !
Ange ! viens ? moi quand tu chantes,
Et, quand tu pleures, viens ? moi !

(Come to us, moving beauties!
Come to me, you, my good health, my law!
Angel! Come to me when you sing,
And when you cry, come to me!)

Nous seuls comprenons vos extases.
Car notre esprit n'est point moqueur ;
Car les po?tes sont les vases
O? les femmes versent leur coeurs.

(Only we can understand your ecstasies.
For our spirit does not mock;
For poets are like vases
Where women pour their hearts.)

Moi qui ne cherche dans ce monde
Que la seule r?alit?,
Moi qui laisse fuir comme l'onde
Tout ce qui n'est que vanit?,

(I who searches in this world
But one reality,
I, who lets escape like a wave
All that is but vanity,)

Je pr?f?re aux biens dont s'enivre
L'orgueil du soldat ou du roi,
L'ombre que tu fais sur mon livre
Quand ton front se penche sur moi.

(I prefer to the intoxicating feelings
Of pride of the soldier or king,
The shadow which you make on my book
When your forehead leans towards me.)

Toute ambition allum?e
Dans notre esprit, brasier subtil,
Tombe en cendre ou vole en fum?e,
Et l'on se dit : " Qu'en reste-t-il ? "

(All ambition is illuminated
In our spirit, subtle inferno,
Falling in ashes or flying in smoke,
And we say to ourselves, "What is left over?")

Tout plaisir, fleur ? peine ?close
Dans notre avril sombre et terni,
S'effeuille et meurt, lis, myrte ou rose,
Et l'on se dit : " C'est donc fini ! "

(All pleasure, the flower which is barely open
During our somber and tarnished april,
Loses it's petals and dies, lily, rose,
And we say to ourselves, "So it's the end!")

L'amour seul reste. O noble femme
Si tu veux dans ce vil s?jour,
Garder ta foi, garder ton ?me,
Garder ton Dieu, garde l'amour !

(Only love remains. O noble woman
If you want on that scornful day
Keep your faith, keep your soul,
Keep your God, keep love!)

Conserve en ton coeur, sans rien craindre,
Dusses-tu pleurer et souffrir,
La flamme qui ne peut s'?teindre
Et la fleur qui ne peut mourir !


(Conserve in your heart, without worrying,
If you should cry and suffer,
The flame that cannot be extinguished
And the flower which cannot die!)

 

[nachoDoc]

Oh, Grandpa, those are so beautiful! I hope that you show them to your loved one. I know that if a man wrote poetry like that for me I would love them more than any jewel in the world he ever gave to me...I would faint and cry from happiness to know I am loved in that way. Like I said, poems are PRICELESS!!!!

Thanks Smilemaker100, yes, she was the inspiration and I gave a few of them as a gift to her. She reached into my soul, found and embraced my heart despite all of my defenses, and for the first time in my life, I trusted someone so completely, I just knew she would protect it forever. In that moment, we both realized, that it was destiny which brought us together for our souls to be rejoined. Even after all this time, everyday, she makes me smile and I am so thankful to have her.

 

[Smilemaker100]

Thanks Smilemaker100, yes, she was the inspiration and I gave a few of them as a gift to her. She reached into my soul, found and embraced my heart despite all of my defenses, and for the first time in my life, I trusted someone so completely, I just knew she would protect it forever. In that moment, we both realized, that it was destiny which brought us together for our souls to be rejoined. Even after all this time, everyday, she makes me smile and I am so thankful to have her.

That's so wonderful to hear! She is a lucky woman to have a hopeless romantic man like you in her life!

 

[nachoDoc]

That's so wonderful to hear! She is a lucky woman to have a hopeless romantic man like you in her life!

Actually I'm the lucky one to have her in my life and love her so completely and unconditionally. Her love is more than I ever imagined possible and we share a love that is rare, timeless and the kind of love the poets and songwriters write about.

 

[Smilemaker100]

Actually I'm the lucky one to have her in my life and love her so completely and unconditionally. Her love is more than I ever imagined possible and we share a love that is rare, timeless and the kind of love the poets and songwriters write about.

Wow! How did you meet? How long have you been together? (If you don't mind my asking). Any more poems to share?

 

[nachoDoc]

Wow! How did you meet? How long have you been together? (If you don't mind my asking). Any more poems to share?

Serendipitiously.

I awoke and suddenly realized
"Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day.
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree."
Lost somewhere between dreams and fantasy
I am cast into a summer night's reverie
The sounds of music and laughter draw me near
The Piazza San Marco is filled with reverie. It is Carnival!
In my bautta and tabarro I feel a staff of a mask in my hand.
Into the dancing and laughter I am drawn
Losing all resistance, I am a pawn
Breathlessly, I fall into the shadows to rest
Only to fine a fairest maiden smiling in jest
"Did my heart love till now? Forswear it sight!
For I ne?er saw true beauty till this night."
My heart is pounding and leaves me breathless
my soul on fire makes me restless
We dance in the square til golden reflections
bids us to leave, as passion heightens...
--------------------

I have walked down many cobblestone streets trying to beat the sunrise.
There is a calm and serenity throughout the city.
You feel the dampness but it doesn't matter.
What at first seemed distorted forms, slowly materialize out of the mist, reassuring you there is nothing to fear.
You feel the mystical magic of this place as the souls of those who once danced here, allow you to pass.
This is a timeless moment. Forever ingrained into a memory.
Stored in a red velvet and satin-lined box, reserved for special times.
A new day dawns, the mist disappears, the sun rises warming your face..
---------------------
Overhead unheard celebration masked by passion
flashes briefly then fades like an old photograph in the sun
your lips so sweet, taste of honey and pomegranate,
so rich and complete.
As gentle as the carnival breeze
Sensual kisses to tease and please
As beautiful as a morning sunrise
Kissing and caressing your caramel thighs
We touched and explored with passionate eyes
pretending still hidden by a feather disguise
Again and again we loved til dawn
impassioned lovers all night long
Sitting at the beach as the waves hit the shore
Crescendos of passion has us begging for more
As we walk barefoot in the morning dew
I can't keep my mind off last night with you
----------------------
Ah, to dream the impossible dream......
At last we find a small sanctuary, just a small space between the columns,
We are both laughing, lost in the romance and history of Venice.
I lean back against the wall but you turn to look out at the merriment.
Rhythmically you sway side to side. in time to the accordions and mandolins..
I come up behind you and wrap my arms around you.
Together we stand, slowly swaying to the music under an summer night's Venetian moon.
Intoxicated by the mystery I turn you around. With both hands I brush back you hair and caress your face.
The moon reflects back from two emerald pools, your lips part slightly, glistening, wanting.
I lean down and you rise up. Our lips meet briefly.
Such sweet ecstacy I have never tasted before.
I lick your lips for more. You lick back..
We kiss deeply, passionately and we are lost to time.
We cannot stop, our hearts are pounding, the air is charged with electricity.
I see flashes that must be from the fireworks. But I do not linger long.
I want this moment to last forever, for I know in my heart, it is an impossible dream.
---------------------
You

Like the soft summer breeze
that whispers to the trees
it's enchanting melody.
So from the lips of my memory
the tears from a dream,
sit patiently.

For ever so long
my mind refuses to forget
your winsome eyes
whose infinite secrets I dared share
for even a moment.

It is only deep inside
that I hide,
in a blue satin chest,
all the rest
that I cannot write.
For the words
are much too fragile
and only my eyes
can write that soft.

 

[Smilemaker100]

Serendipitiously.

I awoke and suddenly realized
"Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day.
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree."
Lost somewhere between dreams and fantasy
I am cast into a summer night's reverie
The sounds of music and laughter draw me near
The Piazza San Marco is filled with reverie. It is Carnival!
In my bautta and tabarro I feel a staff of a mask in my hand.
Into the dancing and laughter I am drawn
Losing all resistance, I am a pawn
Breathlessly, I fall into the shadows to rest
Only to fine a fairest maiden smiling in jest
"Did my heart love till now? Forswear it sight!
For I ne?er saw true beauty till this night."
My heart is pounding and leaves me breathless
my soul on fire makes me restless
We dance in the square til golden reflections
bids us to leave, as passion heightens...
--------------------

I have walked down many cobblestone streets trying to beat the sunrise.
There is a calm and serenity throughout the city.
You feel the dampness but it doesn't matter.
What at first seemed distorted forms, slowly materialize out of the mist, reassuring you there is nothing to fear.
You feel the mystical magic of this place as the souls of those who once danced here, allow you to pass.
This is a timeless moment. Forever ingrained into a memory.
Stored in a red velvet and satin-lined box, reserved for special times.
A new day dawns, the mist disappears, the sun rises warming your face..
---------------------
Overhead unheard celebration masked by passion
flashes briefly then fades like an old photograph in the sun
your lips so sweet, taste of honey and pomegranate,
so rich and complete.
As gentle as the carnival breeze
Sensual kisses to tease and please
As beautiful as a morning sunrise
Kissing and caressing your caramel thighs
We touched and explored with passionate eyes
pretending still hidden by a feather disguise
Again and again we loved til dawn
impassioned lovers all night long
Sitting at the beach as the waves hit the shore
Crescendos of passion has us begging for more
As we walk barefoot in the morning dew
I can't keep my mind off last night with you
----------------------
Ah, to dream the impossible dream......
At last we find a small sanctuary, just a small space between the columns,
We are both laughing, lost in the romance and history of Venice.
I lean back against the wall but you turn to look out at the merriment.
Rhythmically you sway side to side. in time to the accordions and mandolins..
I come up behind you and wrap my arms around you.
Together we stand, slowly swaying to the music under an summer night's Venetian moon.
Intoxicated by the mystery I turn you around. With both hands I brush back you hair and caress your face.
The moon reflects back from two emerald pools, your lips part slightly, glistening, wanting.
I lean down and you rise up. Our lips meet briefly.
Such sweet ecstacy I have never tasted before.
I lick your lips for more. You lick back..
We kiss deeply, passionately and we are lost to time.
We cannot stop, our hearts are pounding, the air is charged with electricity.
I see flashes that must be from the fireworks. But I do not linger long.
I want this moment to last forever, for I know in my heart, it is an impossible dream.
---------------------
You

Like the soft summer breeze
that whispers to the trees
it's enchanting melody.
So from the lips of my memory
the tears from a dream,
sit patiently.

For ever so long
my mind refuses to forget
your winsome eyes
whose infinite secrets I dared share
for even a moment.

It is only deep inside
that I hide,
in a blue satin chest,
all the rest
that I cannot write.
For the words
are much too fragile
and only my eyes
can write that soft.

All very nice , Grandpa. I especially liked the last one entitled "You". Just out of curiosity, how many poems have you written in dedication to your loved one? What other romantic things have you done for her?

 

[Smilemaker100]

I am posting another poem here which is not exactly what I would call a romantic poem but more like a trajic love poem- nevertheless, it is beautiful.

The Lady Of Shalott by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Part I

On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.


Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.

By the margin, willow veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?

Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower'd Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers " 'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."

Part II

There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.

And moving thro' a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village-churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls,
Pass onward from Shalott.

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.

But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often thro' the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed:
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.

Part III

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.

The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.

All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.

Part IV

In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.

And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance--
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.

Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right--
The leaves upon her falling light--
Thro' the noises of the night
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.

Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross'd themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."

 

[Smilemaker100]

Another trajic love poem.

The Highwayman
By Alfred Noyes

Part One
I
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding-
Riding-riding-
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

II
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

III
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

IV
And dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say-

V
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

VI
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West.

Part Two
I
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gipsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching-
Marching-marching-
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

II
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride.

III
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say-
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

IV
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till here fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like
years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

V
The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain.

VI
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs
ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did
not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up strait and still!

VII
Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night
!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him-with her death.

VIII
He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

IX
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

* * * * * *

X
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding-
Riding-riding-
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

XI
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

 

[nachoDoc]

All very nice , Grandpa. I especially liked the last one entitled "You". Just out of curiosity, how many poems have you written in dedication to your loved one? What other romantic things have you done for her?

Enough to keep her smiling and happy we found each other. I go out of my way to let her know every day how much I love her and how happy she makes me feel. In return she loves me in ways I can't express with words. Sometimes it's the little things, little notes, an email to her, sometimes a word or two that triggers an immediate memory, bubble baths, oil massages, showers, washing her hair, brushing her hair, holding her hand everywhere we go, feeding each other our favorite things, sitting quietly on the beach watching the sunset, walking along the sand, cuddling on a feather bed under a down comforter, cuddling in front of a fireplace, being a gentleman and opening the door for her, treating her like a woman should be treated an making her feel like the most important person in the world, really listening to her when she speaks, never going to bed angry, being open and honest with each other at all times, writing "I love you" on a steamy bathroom mirror...sometimes when I wake up, I over at her sleeping and I just smile because I am so happy. I never want to forget that beautiful, peaceful image. This is the woman I love and there is nothing I wouldn't do for her.

 

[Smilemaker100]

Enough to keep her smiling and happy we found each other. I go out of my way to let her know every day how much I love her and how happy she makes me feel. In return she loves me in ways I can't express with words. Sometimes it's the little things, little notes, an email to her, sometimes a word or two that triggers an immediate memory, bubble baths, oil massages, showers, washing her hair, brushing her hair, holding her hand everywhere we go, feeding each other our favorite things, sitting quietly on the beach watching the sunset, walking along the sand, cuddling on a feather bed under a down comforter, cuddling in front of a fireplace, being a gentleman and opening the door for her, treating her like a woman should be treated an making her feel like the most important person in the world, really listening to her when she speaks, never going to bed angry, being open and honest with each other at all times, writing "I love you" on a steamy bathroom mirror...sometimes when I wake up, I over at her sleeping and I just smile because I am so happy. I never want to forget that beautiful, peaceful image. This is the woman I love and there is nothing I wouldn't do for her.

Oh! My G-d! Are you for real? How sweet! That's the kind of love that no money can ever buy! I would choose that sort of love story over any millons of dollars in the world! PRICELESS!!!! Your parents sure did a hell of a good job raising you! There aren't many men of your genre these days. My gosh- now I know what you mean when you say your love story is the type of story that inspires poets and writers!

I don't get impressed by things a man will do for me once a year (such as Valentine's Day) but all those little gestures which you display to your loved one everyday- now THAT is romance. I would have that sort of romance over any jewels or other material things in the world! She is definitely a very very lucky woman . Pat yourself on the back! You're a precious man!

 

[alison_in_oh]

She is definitely a very very lucky woman

She's only lucky in that she appreciates that kind of devoted attention. Personally, I'd go a little stir-crazy. Overly saccharine protestations are not our thing, nor is a public face to our love life. If my husband were describing our "cuddling" to others it'd kind of creep me out. Clearly it'd be the right kind of relationship for Smilemaker and for Mrs. Grandpa, so everyone's different.

It's kind of like the men who want their marriage proposal to take place in front of the greatest number of people possible. That's not my hubby. What's ours is ours and we treasure and protect that. We don't even go in for PDAs.

 

[nachoDoc]

Oh! My G-d! Are you for real? How sweet! . Pat yourself on the back! You're a precious man!

Thank you.



See we really do exist after all.
Yours is out there too.

 

[nachoDoc]

She's only lucky in that she appreciates that kind of devoted attention. Personally, I'd go a little stir-crazy. Overly saccharine protestations are not our thing, nor is a public face to our love life. If my husband were describing our "cuddling" to others it'd kind of creep me out. Clearly it'd be the right kind of relationship for Smilemaker and for Mrs. Grandpa, so everyone's different.

It's kind of like the men who want their marriage proposal to take place in front of the greatest number of people possible. That's not my hubby. What's ours is ours and we treasure and protect that. We don't even go in for PDAs.

This was in response to the Fairy Tale thread: "I think we would benefit all little girls everywhere by doing something in their favor- STOP READING THEM FAIRY TALES!!!! There is no such a thing as a Prince Charming or ONE special man who will love you for the rest of your living days!"
Proving that the hypothesis simply is not true. Celui qui flotte votre bateau.

 

[alison_in_oh]

This was in response to the Fairy Tale thread:"I think we would benefit all little girls everywhere by doing something in their favor- STOP READING THEM FAIRY TALES!!!! There is no such a thing as a Prince Charming or ONE special man who will love you for the rest of your living days!"
Proving that the hypothesis simply is not true. Celui qui flotte votre bateau.

How is publicly describing *your* loved one's finer qualities to...let's see, 482 people currently browsing SDN...a counterexample to Smilemaker's lament about there not being a "soulmate" or single, solitary individual out there, somewhere, for her?

It's super if singing your sweetie's praises from on high floats your boat! Having my praises sung doesn't provide sufficient buoyant force for my own watercraft, 'sall I'm saying -- making you a great and special fella, but not the universal Prince Charming, eh?

 

[nachoDoc]

How is publicly describing *your* loved one's finer qualities to...let's see, 482 people currently browsing SDN...a counterexample to Smilemaker's lament about there not being a "soulmate" or single, solitary individual out there, somewhere, for her?

It's super if singing your sweetie's praises from on high floats your boat! Having my praises sung doesn't provide sufficient buoyant force for my own watercraft, 'sall I'm saying -- making you a great and special fella, but not the universal Prince Charming, eh?

The response was directed to smilemaker100 so you should ask her. I merely pointed out that not all men, or women, are the same and there is someone special for her out there. (We can debate the ethical, phiosophical or moral issues in a pm but even this is inappropriate to the spirit of the OP's opening this thread). The fact that others may "view" what is posted is immaterial to me. Actually I'm a very quiet, introspective person. Hmmm 482? WRONG, only 219 views, so far, of this thread eliminate mine = 212. Just responding to the question:"What other romantic things have you done for her?". Never claimed to be the universal Prince Charming but a man who would be "the one special man to love his wife for the rest of his life". After 17 years we are still going strong, proof that it works for us, especially when praises are given by touch, smell, taste, sight, as well as, sound. Different strokes for different folks.

 

[nachoDoc]

I Would Live In Your Love ~ Sara Teasdale

I would live in your love as the sea-grasses live in the sea,
Borne up by each wave as it passes,
drawn down by each wave that recedes;
I would empty my soul as the dreams
that have gathered in me,
I would beat with your heart as it beats,
I would follow your soul as it leads.


Let These be Your Desires ~ Kahlil Gibran

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself
But if your love and must needs have desires,
Let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook
That sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
And give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer
For the beloved in your heart
And a song of praise upon your lips.

i have found what you are like ~ e e cummings

i have found what you are like
the rain,

(Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of green thrilling light
with thinned

newfragile yellows

lurch and.press

-in the woods
which
stutter
and

sing

And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
your kiss

 

[Smilemaker100]

She's only lucky in that she appreciates that kind of devoted attention. Personally, I'd go a little stir-crazy. Overly saccharine protestations are not our thing, nor is a public face to our love life. If my husband were describing our "cuddling" to others it'd kind of creep me out. Clearly it'd be the right kind of relationship for Smilemaker and for Mrs. Grandpa, so everyone's different.

It's kind of like the men who want their marriage proposal to take place in front of the greatest number of people possible. That's not my hubby. What's ours is ours and we treasure and protect that. We don't even go in for PDAs.

Yes, I would appreciate that sort of attention but unlike what you said, Alison, I am not comfortable with big public displays either. Neither do I like it when a man describes personal things between me and him with his buddies. I don't think marriage proposals should be done in front of a big public audience either. Usually, those that have big "displays" are the ones that want to give people the illusion that all is well when they aren't.

 

[Smilemaker100]

How is publicly describing *your* loved one's finer qualities to...let's see, 482 people currently browsing SDN...a counterexample to Smilemaker's lament about there not being a "soulmate" or single, solitary individual out there, somewhere, for her?

It's super if singing your sweetie's praises from on high floats your boat! Having my praises sung doesn't provide sufficient buoyant force for my own watercraft, 'sall I'm saying -- making you a great and special fella, but not the universal Prince Charming, eh?

Oh, come on, Alison! Don't condone the man! He is a hopeless romantic! And he has a lot of guts to express his sentimental side (unlike most men I know). Besides, we are all anonymous here and he isn't using any names.

 

[alison_in_oh]

The response was directed to smilemaker100 so you should ask her.

Then why did you quote my post, which was in response to smilemaker as well? As I was saying, your wife is lucky to have you. I am lucky to have my husband. I wouldn't be lucky to have you -- I don't think we'd get along quite as well.

Different strokes sums it up perfectly.

 

[nachoDoc]

As I was saying, your wife is lucky to have you. I am lucky to have my husband. I wouldn't be lucky to have you -- I don't think we'd get along quite as well.

Different strokes sums it up perfectly.

Hmmmm...
Yes, true.
Yes, true
Don't be so sure -- heh heh heh

Yes, true, so touche'

 

[nachoDoc]

To?

Summer winds blow softly
Yet seasons pass away
Days are growing shorter
And nights are here to stay

These endless nights of fortunes
Kissed by Fates reply
That linger for a moment?
Then trickle from my eye.

With thoughts of you remaining
Like tales so often told,
To cherise now and evermore
Til you and I are old.

Then bring them from their special place
Before life fades and then
Smile because I know, you know
I married my best friend.


Evening moments

The evening brings so many things
So different and so new
Moonlight walks?.
Forgotten talks?.
And memories I once knew.

?Ah the little,
Tiny,
Brittle....words
That flutter away
From meaningless moments
Of yesterday?

Form a drop that falls atop
The image of one?
now gone?
And all I hold are grains of gold
That gradually?
slip away.


Three a.m.

Behind a window where snowflakes lie forever
Sticking together
And reflecting the light from scented candles
I sit alone.
On the windowsill the snowflakes dance
Clinging together
To the songs
That you and I once shared

How can I forget the smile that started my day
And ended my night
By candlelight burning ever so quietly
Whenever I kissed you in your sleep
And still you smiled.

Or whenever we ran along the sand
On moonlit nights then greeted the day
In our own special way.
Or just being together
You, me, and the sea.

And because you will always be a part of me, apart from me
I will always love you.

Now the dawn brings another day
far away
from memories and candlelit rooms
that seem like tombs
without you.

a few of my early works, published. Go for it Smilemaker100!!!

 

[nachoDoc]

In languid serenity
floating blissfully adrift
on an ocean
vast and exciting
wet and warm
with the breeze
caressing my skin.

Almost playfully it
gives me goosebumps
makes me smile
with a wistful
soft, sweet, sigh
then outta nowhere
sirens sweetly singing
pulling me closer
i cannot stop.

Because it is
sparkling waves calling
too much to
resist the lure
of the unforgettable
feelings engulfing me.

The greatest challenge
excites my spirit
and takes me
where no man
has gone before.

Igniting a passion
i can't remember
but now explodes
tingling my body
in a way
in my mind
curling my toes
alleviating my fears
reawakening a sleeping
sensuality long missed
until you came.

My aching soul
never felt pleasure
complete as this
so blissful, so
complete, so aroused
my heart races
until I can't
holdback any longer.

I reach for
something never known
I'm ready to
explore this new
experience without restraint
and I'll eventually
experience how precious
this embrace can
ignite my soul.

I step forward
to feel you
your breath warm
in my ear
our hearts racing
our lips exploring
the deep passion
within me rises.

A building crescendo
as I touch
your warm skin
taste your scent
of sweet ambrosia
and morning dew.

Glistening on skin
smooth like silk
kissed by moonbeams
this warm splendor
entering my body
stealthily in dreams.

Pulling you in
nourishing your soul
filling your body
jasmine scented visions
explode around us
lighting the night
and holding tight
with one wish
made this night.

A most blissful
kiss lingering on
that feels like
silk bed sheets
delightfully slippery to
passionate, hot, lovemaking
bound by lust.

Rapturous, deep kisses
accented by thrusts
touching me deeply
driving me wild
going deeper into
my very core
opening my secrets
with your touch.

Gentle and soft
leaving me yearning
burning, wanting more.
My body trembling
like raindrops falling
on yielding roses
surrendered to love.

Soft pink petals
float gently down
to feel your
lips kissing me
your hands caressing
arms around me
closer than close
licking my neck
smelling the salt
feeling my heartbeat.

What fantastic symphony
in syncopated harmony
slow dancing, uninhibited
in the moonlight...
our bodies sing.

three sdners who cared, kept this going in pm line by line...

 

[Smilemaker100]

In languid serenity
floating blissfully adrift
on an ocean
vast and exciting
wet and warm
with the breeze
caressing my skin.

Almost playfully it
gives me goosebumps
makes me smile
with a wistful
soft, sweet, sigh
then outta nowhere
sirens sweetly singing
pulling me closer
i cannot stop.

Because it is
sparkling waves calling
too much to
resist the lure
of the unforgettable
feelings engulfing me.

The greatest challenge
excites my spirit
and takes me
where no man
has gone before.

Igniting a passion
i can't remember
but now explodes
tingling my body
in a way
in my mind
curling my toes
alleviating my fears
reawakening a sleeping
sensuality long missed
until you came.

My aching soul
never felt pleasure
complete as this
so blissful, so
complete, so aroused
my heart races
until I can't
holdback any longer.

I reach for
something never known
I'm ready to
explore this new
experience without restraint
and I'll eventually
experience how precious
this embrace can
ignite my soul.

I step forward
to feel you
your breath warm
in my ear
our hearts racing
our lips exploring
the deep passion
within me rises.

A building crescendo
as I touch
your warm skin
taste your scent
of sweet ambrosia
and morning dew.

Glistening on skin
smooth like silk
kissed by moonbeams
this warm splendor
entering my body
stealthily in dreams.

Pulling you in
nourishing your soul
filling your body
jasmine scented visions
explode around us
lighting the night
and holding tight
with one wish
made this night.

A most blissful
kiss lingering on
that feels like
silk bed sheets
delightfully slippery to
passionate, hot, lovemaking
bound by lust.

Rapturous, deep kisses
accented by thrusts
touching me deeply
driving me wild
going deeper into
my very core
opening my secrets
with your touch.

Gentle and soft
leaving me yearning
burning, wanting more.
My body trembling
like raindrops falling
on yielding roses
surrendered to love.

Soft pink petals
float gently down
to feel your
lips kissing me
your hands caressing
arms around me
closer than close
licking my neck
smelling the salt
feeling my heartbeat.

What fantastic symphony
in syncopated harmony
slow dancing, uninhibited
in the moonlight...
our bodies sing.

three sdners who cared, kept this going in pm line by line...


My God , Grandpa! You are truly one of a kind. A man with PASSION! Your genre are far and few between. If you don't mind my asking...are you really a "senior" ? Older than 50? You have a way with words. Keep it up!

 

[nachoDoc]

My God , Grandpa! You are truly one of a kind. A man with PASSION! Your genre are far and few between. If you don't mind my asking...are you really a "senior" ? Older than 50? You have a way with words. Keep it up!

I am a "young non-traditional grandpa!" - but the credit for "Passion" goes to two other sdners as we exchanged lines for a most "interesting" result.

 

[delchrys]

this one is my favorite:

Beginning

Long I scrawled my aching shadows
in the grey steps of silent cowards,
my eyes' unflinching inward gaze
Blind as I lived my life away in
Sleep for endless hours.

The Song of but your briefest glance
dawn sun that clears my shrouded field,
and when I start to learn your soul
I remember what I never knew:
How it means to Feel.

 

[Med-Student2B]

GrandPa - do you mind if I ask a somewhat unrelated question?

This woman that you love - how did you meet her, and what does she do now careerwise?

 

[freshair]

You guys have some really nice poems. I wish there was a way to archive all these poems. It just shows a very different side of meds. Nice job.

 

[nachoDoc]

GrandPa - do you mind if I ask a somewhat unrelated question?

This woman that you love - how did you meet her, and what does she do now careerwise?

Quite by accident. Neither of us interested in the other at all. Started talked about things and found we had an uncanny commonality in what we like to do, see, mannerisms, music, etc. One thing led to another and well...Yep!

She's a professional.

 

[Med-Student2B]

Sounds so... perfect! I'm happy for you both. I love LOVE!!! It gives you something to smile about... priceless!

I only ask what her profession is because I'm wondering if she's a doctor. I am a 26 year old woman considering going to medical school next year, but unfortunately I haven't met Mr.Right just yet. I'm hearing some things about women in medicine that are making me raise an eye brow.

For example, the marriage rate of women in medicine is apparently low, and they have very little time to invest in anything but their careers. I guess your career takes spot light, and other things become background noise. I may be wrong, but I'm concerned that by entering medicine I will be increasing my chances of dying alone. Sounds so silly, huh? But is it???

 

[myfavred]

Sounds so... perfect! I'm happy for you both. I love LOVE!!! It gives you something to smile about... priceless!

I only ask what her profession is because I'm wondering if she's a doctor. I am a 26 year old woman considering going to medical school next year, but unfortunately I haven't met Mr.Right just yet. I'm hearing some things about women in medicine that are making me raise an eye brow.

For example, the marriage rate of women in medicine is apparently low, and they have very little time to invest in anything but their careers. I guess your career takes spot light, and other things become background noise. I may be wrong, but I'm concerned that by entering medicine I will be increasing my chances of dying alone. Sounds so silly, huh? But is it???

I am in the same boat as you. I am 25 and single and worried if I will die alone. But, I guess God has a plan for me so worrying ain't gonna do anything.

 

[nachoDoc]

Sounds so... perfect! I'm happy for you both. I love LOVE!!! It gives you something to smile about... priceless!

I only ask what her profession is because I'm wondering if she's a doctor. I am a 26 year old woman considering going to medical school next year, but unfortunately I haven't met Mr.Right just yet. I'm hearing some things about women in medicine that are making me raise an eye brow.

For example, the marriage rate of women in medicine is apparently low, and they have very little time to invest in anything but their careers. I guess your career takes spot light, and other things become background noise. I may be wrong, but I'm concerned that by entering medicine I will be increasing my chances of dying alone. Sounds so silly, huh? But is it???

Hmmmm... medicine is not a 9-5 JOB. 60+ HR work weeks are not uncommon. Career is important but so is being a woman and possibly mother. It's a delicate balance but certainly not uncommon. Your career choice is a very demanding one. You may have routine office hours but then you will have emergency admissions, visiting patients who you have admitted or referred, you'll have post op followup visits and emergency pages at the worst possible time. Sleep will be sporatic and a forget 8 hrs of uninterrupted sleep. Now your partner will want quality time but you may be barely able to keep your eyes open. So you should talk to those who have made it ( e.g. Dr Mom) and those who didn't. Find out what worked and what didn't. As far as dying "alone" lol don't worry about it. If you are doing what you love, nothing else matters. If you hate what you're doing, everything matters.

 

[Smilemaker100]

Sounds so... perfect! I'm happy for you both. I love LOVE!!! It gives you something to smile about... priceless!

I only ask what her profession is because I'm wondering if she's a doctor. I am a 26 year old woman considering going to medical school next year, but unfortunately I haven't met Mr.Right just yet. I'm hearing some things about women in medicine that are making me raise an eye brow.

For example, the marriage rate of women in medicine is apparently low, and they have very little time to invest in anything but their careers. I guess your career takes spot light, and other things become background noise. I may be wrong, but I'm concerned that by entering medicine I will be increasing my chances of dying alone. Sounds so silly, huh? But is it???

Don't rely on men...dedicate yourself to your career for the time being. You have to "arm yourself" for the real world because even if you met Mr.Right and had kids, whose to say that he won't drop you like a hot potato and leave you jobless...you need a career to protect yourself. And besides, being in the medical profession (which is a long route), you will meet men who are still unmarried in their 30s.

I don't mean to disappoint you or put your hopes down but maybe there is no Mr Right for a couple of years...you still have to LIVE! It has been painful for me to accept this but I have to otherwise I would always find a reason to be unhappy. Dying alone is a possibility that runs in my mind, but then again even if you do get married, whose to say that your husband won't die before you? Loneliness is a human reality. We really are all alone...we are born alone and we do die alone , in a way.

I have put myself to the ultimate test...I moved away to another country from the people I loved (family and friends) to see if I could survive. I didn't know a single soul in this city when I moved here. Some would say it is crazy to put yourself through something you don't necessarily have to but I think it has done me some good. I have learned to depend on no one except myself. I have been my own mother and father. I have had to find more faith in God. Sometimes, it isn't easy having faith but it's when you're at your weakest that you have to have something to hold onto. I have battled loneliness every day that I have been here and it hasn't been easy. No one knows how tough it has been for me to keep a smile on my face when I have been fraught with this loneliness. I have made new friends in this city but none that I can trust 100% and the few that I thought I could trust only deceived me.

You will survive my dear...only the strong survive. Those that can deal with loneliness are the strongest people in the world. Don't let it destroy you- it almost destroyed me. If anything , be careful and don't get desparate by trying to find a "Mr In the Meantime"...don't waste someone's time...have patience. Patience pays off.

 

[Med-Student2B]

I agree that I shouldn't center my life around meeting Mr. Right. That would definately be setting my self up for dissappointment. And anyway, that's not quite how I operate - I've never been very good at waiting around.

However, I'm concerned that during Medical School my life will be too busy to meet the right guy. And beng that I'm 26 I would probably be out of med school by the time I'm 31. But the larger issue lies somewhere beyond that.

Mainly I don't know what kind of lifestyle doctors lead because I'm not one yet. But it seems most are VERY busy, and hardly have time to enjoy life and/or form healthy connections with their loved ones.

Is this the case? How do doctors live? i.e. what's a typical "week in the life"?