Poetry about Love
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Miss Beauty,With all radiance to spend,Like what the sun does, to spread color,As you have done, to my mind of black and white. In losing you,My mind has turned to grey. I sought to see your hips move with the wind’s twists,And hear your sighs among the delicate sheets. Love was once all to be
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Why do I continue to resideOn this Hell, called an Earth, where tears wash my ankles?I thought to be in love with a dreamOf twilight and radiance.So much hurt has swept on-board and over-board.So much of the ocean has been drained from my heart. Within the bleakness of winter,Where the sky seems to have fallen
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Your tears come new in the blue,Beneath the ozone layers and layers of ice,Beneath where you’ve seated yourselfUpon my lap,And dream of where we could seeEach memory collapsing. Your beauty is a for a womanWhose neglect is permanent,And whose face is casting off, upon the oceanTo notice the stars, and the open hazeFrom the setting
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The way we both breatheIn the heat of this barren town,Where love falls on deafened clowns,Where their ears cannot fathomThe calls of their laughing sounds,Is the way we sighBy the way we cry upon acknowledgementThat we’ll not ever jestThe way that a clown does.We are merely lies,Among the particles to breathe from sighs. Their way,
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Love is a shell,When it is not covered,By something that will nestle itIn moments as sweet as beading facesOf a woman, hot in exercise. Cities as old as time,All bow before the might of love,When it is that blanket of eternity.A kiss, one heated kiss,Upon a mouth, sends through shivers. A blanket, for it is
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Raise a smile,Why don’t thee,And show me, so that I may see,Your happiness and tranquility.Though, a character as yours,One that fully endures,My entertaining of a bit of difference,A side to me, deserving restraint,Deserving compliance with sense. I do not deserve to see you any different,Than to have the character of one woman,Whose attitude and posture
Modern Romanticism 