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April PAD Challenge: Day 20

Categories: Personal Updates, Poetry Challenge 2008, Poetry Prompts.

We are now 20 days into the challenge! Woo-hoo! And spring has definitely sprung here in Ohio. It’s incredible. Since Thursday, I’ve been getting out every day and playing disc golf and trail hiking. As soon as I finish this prompt-poem thing-a-ma-gig, I’m gonna get back out there.

Now today’s prompt is one you’ve either been eagerly anticipating and wondering, “Where the heck is it,” all month, or it’s one you’ve been quietly noting hasn’t been prompted and crossing your fingers you can make it through the month without. But this kind of poem is what got me into writing poetry seriously. That’s right…

…today’s prompt is to write a Love poem with a capital “L” as in a loooooove poem. Think about wooing; think about being wooed; and then, write!

Here’s my poem for the day:

“This Morning”

-for Tammy F. Trendle

The birds chant awake the dandelions
and flowers. They raise the grass blades
from their winter nocturne. We are
foolish to want more, but we listen
to the birds and know: It is natural to
want, and things will always happen
as they should.

 

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About Robert Lee Brewer

Senior Content Editor, Writer's Digest Community.

180 Responses to April PAD Challenge: Day 20

  1. tim says:

    dark
    save the moonlight
    through the window
    spotlighting your face
    something stirs me awake
    finding you inches from me
    sleeping
    i’ve awakened to find you
    most every day now
    five years short of a score
    still captivated
    i whisper i love you into your dream
    then float away again into the night

  2. Lin Neiswender says:

    If I Had Only Known

    When I was young and didn’t know
    The price others paid to love me
    Blissful in my ignorance, a child
    With scraped knees and needing
    A kiss to make it better
    I never knew how many fears
    And tears you held back to do that

    And when I later overstepped my bounds
    In rebellious zeal, determined to resist
    Your wiser years, you let me trail out
    The long strand of love to almost its end
    But not quite, you knew it would stretch tight
    But bounce back again

    If I knew then what I know now,
    That your light would be dimmed and go out
    Before I had learned to appreciate all
    The ways you had loved me my whole life long
    If I had only known, I would have said
    More often than I did, the words to tell you
    How much your love had and has and will mean to me

    If I had only known

  3. Hope Greene says:

    Anniversary

    I was very young when I first knew you.

    I am older now
    And wiser,
    And I know you-
    Chose you
    Choose you.

  4. Laurie Kolp says:

    Love is…

    Love is…
    a newborn baby,
    fresh and innocent,
    pure as water,
    crying, then content.

    Love is…
    a clasping hand,
    of a friend so true.
    Never letting go,
    no matter what you do.

    Love is…
    a wedding ring,
    round and never-ending,
    a promise through life,
    a kiss, endearing.

    Love is…
    a family
    together, a pact.
    A bond that can’t be broken,
    by this given fact.

    Love is..
    a gift from God,
    given from above
    so freely, like a string.
    flying with the dove.

    Love is…
    around us,
    wherever me go.
    It’s up to us to grab it,
    give it away,
    watch it grow.

  5. CHOCOLAAAATE! AND PERRYYYYY!

    Chocolate! Chocolate!
    Chocy chocy chocolate!
    I love chocolate to and fro!
    I love chocolate here we go!

    Chocolate! Chocolate!
    Chocy chocy chocolate!
    Perry is the besty!
    I love Perry!

    Perry the platypus!
    He’s a semi-aquatic,
    Egg-laying mammal of action!
    I love him so much!
    If I ever meet him,
    I’ll glomp him until he calls
    The police!

    The end!

  6. Kate says:

    Lust and Exhaustion are lovers,
    they stay up all night, every night
    it’s like being young again, only
    they are not. Lust drives to work
    in the early morning light, moon
    sharing the sky with the rising sun,
    too tired to see straight, thinking
    half of what I’m feeling isn’t love,
    it’s sheer exhaustion: The gritty eyes,
    the illusion of floating off the ground,
    the champagne bubbles in the chest.
    Back in her apartment, Exhaustion
    rolls over in her sleep, smiling.

  7. M. Schied says:

    Loveless

    Aching hearts
    Is that what love is?
    because that’s all I know
    I know my parents love me,
    and I them,
    but what about those gnawing pangs
    I get when I do something wrong
    What about the helplessness
    when I can’t help myself
    what about my inadequacy as a teacher
    friend
    daughter
    person
    why does the love not assuage those feelings?
    or is love simply a word for something
    we are supposed to feel
    and a word that is supposed to connect
    man to woman, father to daughter
    brother to sister
    person to person
    but really means nothing if no one says
    I love you

  8. Love Springs

    The spring breeze comes in through the open window
    It tussles your golden-red hair
    You stir, green eyes open
    They know me so well
    “What are you doing?” you ask, eyes smiling
    “Just watching.” I say
    “Stop it.”
    “Never.”

    Just as Spring revives the Earth
    from the dead of winter
    Just as Flowers blossom in dirt
    of death and decay

    You breathe new life into the
    husk of my soul
    You give me new resolve

    You inspire me to do what I must
    to improve our life
    For you, for us, for our daughter,
    we build magic
    We invent miracles

    As the snow retreats from the mountain top,
    you restore my faith

    -Justin M. Howe

  9. Judy Roney says:

    I love him so much
    I’m glad he knows it
    as long as we are OK
    then my life expands
    with travel, people,
    excitement in the everyday
    hope for tomorrow.

  10. S.E. Ingraham says:

    Be Still My Heart

    I hold my breath
    And stop my heart
    At least its strongest beats
    And strain with all I am
    My love
    To hear you come to me.

    Fear not I’ve lost my senses
    I know you breathe no more
    But still, I feel, from time to time
    You are not gone from me
    In every shape or mood or form
    I feel you at my core.

    Opening my window just the slightest bit
    Your very soul sighed inside
    And settled in my arms
    And here your self, your essence
    Seems struggling to stay
    To touch me, nay, to hold me close
    To help me understand?

    Oh my love, my love
    You’re fading –I feel you leaving now
    But there’s a sense of such despair…
    Please, my heart, don’t go
    Stay, stay on – I beg of you
    I know not how to live
    And now it seems
    You’re caught somewhere
    Not knowing how to die.

    Oh, it aches
    You ask too much
    And I do not consent!
    But I will stand aside
    And trust, or allow at least as much
    That you are doing
    What you must
    But oh my heart,
    My dearest love,
    If this is not yet done
    Come here to me
    As need you to
    ‘Til your poor soul’s
    At ease
    And you can go alone
    Alone
    And you can go
    Alone

    S.E.Ingraham

  11. Raven says:

    You Know Who You Are

    shower you with kisses
    soft blankets
    sweet perfumes
    dozens of pretty flowers
    sweets baked up
    just for you
    room on the bed
    room in the closet
    your very own shoe
    your very own corner
    love from all my heart
    now if you could learn
    to roll over

    by TK Kietero

  12. Darla Smith says:

    FRIEND AND LOVER

    Always here as my friend and lover,
    Bringing much happiness to my life.
    Compassionate, trustworthy and loyal,
    Darling, you are all of those things.
    Every night my dreams are of you,
    Forevermore you shall be mine.
    Giving me all of your precious love,
    Has filled my life to completion.
    I never thought I’d be so happy,
    Just being held in your loving arms.
    Kisses that taste like fine wine,
    Lips that are sweet as pure honey.
    My love, you are so very perfect,
    No one will ever take your place.
    Only you have earned my full trust,
    Promises you never failed to keep.
    Quirky may be your actions at times,
    Romantic at heart you’ll always be.
    Sensual is your beautiful smile,
    Turning me on like no other ever has.
    Until the day that I first met you,
    Very few had penetrated my heart.
    Whenever you glance in my direction,
    X-ray vision you surely seem to have.
    You are the most amazing lover,
    Zestful energy you truly possess.

  13. All right, I need to change this title, but it will stand in for now. ;)

    Why I love my baby daddy

    Your willingness to go further
    and your acceptance that I wouldn’t.
    Your pressure on my back
    for two entire days.
    Holing up with all three of us
    and ordering pizza.
    Holding my tubes and bottles
    as I learned to feed without.
    Being willing to let me
    feed him without you.
    Your clumsy fumblings to fasten
    diapers in the night.
    Your willingness to let me sleep
    five extra minutes.
    Bending to strap a wriggling sack
    into the car seat.
    Letting him handle scissors, cell phone,
    keys, and packing tape.
    Crafting absurdist verses
    to Old MacDonald.
    Finding me attractive
    despite everything.
    Commiserating with me about him,
    about our parents and others.
    Being in it with me
    like a team of two and three.
    Slinging thirty-four pounds
    over one shoulder
    and smiling.

  14. Bonnie says:

    When did our eyes meet
    our hands touch, our hearts unite
    When did you start loving me?

    Why did you notice me
    Out of all the girls you could have chosen
    Why me?

    Why was I so blessed
    To be the one that has been the one
    loved by you?

    Sometimes I lay awake beside you
    And watch you sleep
    And all I can do is thank God

    You have been my best friend, my lover,
    my protector;
    my refuge from a world of chaos.

    If for any reason my life should end
    I hope you know
    How truly happy you have made me.

    Thank you for giving me your love.

  15. k weber says:

    More Than This

    "What is love made of?
    Nobody knows
    What are you afraid of?
    Everyone knows
    It’s love
    It’s love"
    – Robyn Hitchcock, "So You Think You’re In Love"

    I want someone
    who wants me,
    reciprocally

    Sliding fingers
    between
    fingers

    Making a mess
    of our lives
    and our kitchen, together

    I barely remember
    life inside
    the two-person bubble

    Because it once
    or twice burst, soapy,
    and stung my eye

    I want blood
    rushing
    to the tip

    Fluttering
    chests and sweat
    on a bed

    Walking ridiculous
    around the park
    with nervous knees

    Sitting too close
    and talking
    too much

    Someone with stories,
    a giant heart: I would
    soak you up like a sponge

    Someone who relieves
    every apology
    of my past

    I want something
    that is only ours; much better
    than this

  16. Sarah says:

    True Love
    To sit hand in hand
    with the man I adore
    each sunset
    a reminder
    that no matter how
    good or bad
    my day may have been
    it closes with
    love
    as he kisses my fingers
    then pulls me close
    in his strong yet
    gentle embrace
    his eyes full of
    wanting as his lips
    melt with mine
    and our bodies
    intertwine
    as the sun says
    goodnight.

  17. touch

    a hand
    your hand
    touches mine
    and shivers
    set ablaze
    places in my soul
    I thought
    forever sleeping;
    may they never
    sleep again.

  18. Jay Sizemore says:

    Falling

    There’s a sensation
    so similar to drowning
    that maybe on another plane
    another you is tied to a piano
    on a beach in the middle
    of a rose colored hurricane,
    when just the accidental brush
    of her hand against yours
    sends your stomach reeling
    and the places buried so deep
    that you thought you’d never
    have to see them again
    start rising back to the surface
    like desert sands shifting
    in an emotional earthquake
    of longing and loneliness.

    These shattered pieces
    of failed attempts at connecting
    to other human spirits
    start collecting into a collage
    of the most vulnerable
    most fucking sincere materialization
    of the person
    you always wished to be
    but you never let him out
    because every time you try
    they just tear him to shreds
    for being so goddamn honest
    that it seems naïve,
    but you want to
    let him hold her hand,
    to feel
    like a blade of grass
    caressed by a sigh
    of summer winds
    to feel
    like a promise
    that deserves to be made.

  19. Yoli says:

    Such amazing writing here from everyone. I always enjoy going through and reading everything. Thank you for sharing.

    Yoli

  20. Yoli says:

    LOVE

    Love, oh love,
    There is something so mysterious.
    When it’s good you’re delirious;
    When it’s not you’re serious
    And you walk around furious.
    And yet, your curiosity
    Of what could be
    Keeps you open to the possibility
    Of that thing we cannot see.

  21. LBC says:

    Feel My Love

    Dance with me
    in the moonlight
    on a Caribbean beach
    barefoot in the sand
    to the song of a saxophone.
    Dance with me,
    whisper my name
    and feel my love.

  22. Vanessa O'Dwyer says:

    Love

    I release the dove
    Of my heart
    When I think of love.

    Essence of being,
    Which we do
    Find so agreeing.

    With dappled moonlight
    On the bed
    Bathing in delight.

    To share life anew
    Day by day
    Loving life with you.

  23. Carol A Stephen says:

    What Love Remembers

    A tangled garden
    Overgrown
    with fear, anger, abandonment.
    Mourns the mortal state,
    left behind to grieve
    the cruel words, impatient anger.

    Love did not see the frailty,
    The worn and tired frame,
    Saw only the strong spirit
    Trying to outlast the failing form.
    And hoping against all hope
    That there was still time—
    Hope fails.

    Mistress of the garden,
    Chatelaine,
    Lady-in-waiting.

    Love remembers
    its lasting bond,
    the shelter of love’s strength,
    waits for rebirth of hope,
    new life,
    new possibilities.
    An end of grief,
    and widow’s weeds.
    Survivor,
    lives still with the fear of loss,
    Sees abandonment
    written on the face
    Of hesitation,
    In the cautious dance
    Of new relationships.

    Carol A Stephen

  24. TaunaLen says:

    I hear your voice in the whisper of wind
    feel your fingers on my skin
    wonder, if you’re thinking about me

    when I worry whether I have ‘it’ in me
    whether I can accomplish
    what I was made to do

    I remember that you believe in me
    you are fascinated by
    that passion that burns in my core

    you may not love words the way I do
    but you love that I do
    and you see that beauty in me

    I watch you watching me
    from the corner of my eye
    and I know that I know

    I will always love you
    I have always loved you
    and your love is all I need to know

    TLS, April 2008

  25. Lynn says:

    Love

    L iving
    O bfuscating
    V isceral
    E ternal

  26. samantha altman says:

    When I Fell For You

    The first time we kissed,
    It brought magic to my eyes;
    Falling in love with you
    Was no big surprise.
    Gushing tears from the
    Loneliness I felt,
    But when I look in your eyes,
    You make my heart melt.
    Sadness now lifted, happiness embraced;
    The thought of your love could never be replaced.
    Never have I felt what I feel for you;
    You’ve made all my hopes and dreams
    Come true.
    I love you so much, you will never know;
    You make me smile when I feel low.
    This love is so deep, so pure, so new,
    I felt I could fly, when I fell for you.

  27. Mike Padg says:

    When endless strings untie our past
    unravel inward towards our souls,
    When we meet in a time devoid of law
    and your touch stops all but our beating hearts intertwine. Eternity lasts for seconds,
    weakness becomes our strength,
    the lust that found us becomes the love that binds us,
    and the mere seconds that separate us burns the strings that tie us
    …until eternity we meet again.

  28. Laural says:

    Flowering Love

    It’s not just that the birds
    Cannot stop singing for joy
    For sex, for freedom.
    It’s not just that the tulip tree
    Runs riot with green and orange
    And the azaleas blaze like coals
    Under the front windows.
    It’s not even that the dogwoods’
    Strata of white are flashing in the woods
    As we drive by.
    It’s you, your own dear pheromones
    I can’t resist. Let us
    Blaze with the azalea fire
    And flash white through the woods,
    Let our love set the clock
    To springtime forever.

  29. anne says:

    The Awakening

    I wake to the curve
    of a familiar hip,
    draped with a swath
    of modest sheet…
    nakedness reveals all
    and sometimes that is too much,
    in the morning light
    this baring of body and soul.
    And filtered through the
    blinds, horizontal punctuation marks
    of last night’s encounter
    are reminders of spent love.

    You turn,
    the sheet slips away
    and in the first rays of
    consciousness
    I know why I am here.

  30. Sarah says:

    To sit hand in hand
    with the man I adore
    each sunset
    a reminder
    that no matter how
    good or bad
    my day may have been
    it closes with
    love,
    as he kisses my fingers
    then pulls me close
    in his strong yet
    loving embrace
    his eyes full of
    wanting as his lips
    melt with mine
    and our bodies
    intertwine
    as the sun says
    goodnight.

  31. Love Work

    Don’t be fooled
    by all the moon
    and spoon in June
    gooshiness of love
    poetry and songs.
    That sparkly-eyed
    sappiness is a fake.
    It’s the magic time,
    the blush, the flush
    of first love, lust even.
    Love, real love, sets in
    soon enough and it
    takes advanced skills
    to excel at.
    You need to communicate
    and compromise, cooperate
    and coexist.
    You need to be tolerant
    and tolerable.

    Don’t let the stars in your eyes
    make you a fool,
    love is hard work
    but it’s worth it.

  32. lynn rose says:

    Love Lost
    Love was lost to her. She had been in love many years ago and it gradually left her. She had loved with every ounce of her being, every inch of her had been filled. The years went on and the love she felt lessened with each. She became lost with no feelings, no emotions could be found. She began to see a man that wouldn’t allow any kind of attachments.This was the kind of love she needed, one that wouldn’t cost her anything. But, love is very sneaky, it can even find the hardest hearts. She found herself wanting to love,but she wouldn’t allow this feeling to take over. She continued to see him , she really wanted to love him and wanted him to love her back. She knew this would never be, she needed him physically and he needed her too. The love they made was so passionate and incredible, for that moment she could feel his total love without being in love. This was the love she settled for, this was the only love she would have.

    To those of us that have been lucky enough to of found love, true love, embrace, cherish it and don’t let it go, because its the most precious thing you will ever have.

  33. Monica Martin says:

    (for Richie Darling)

    What can I say about you
    That I havent’ already said
    So many times before?
    You, my heart, my love,
    Make everyday worthwhile.

  34. Christa R. Shelton says:

    SPOKEN LOVE IN SILENCE

    We lay in complete silence
    enraputred in the beauty of stillness
    You stroke my back with ease
    I kiss your hand ever so softly
    We realize we could stay in this state forever
    if the demands of life weren’t so many
    But we always know that this moment can be recreated
    each morning before going off to the flourescent lights
    and each night when our feet have had enough
    I pray this feeling never grows old or stale
    The strength of our love, I hope will always prevail

  35. KP says:

    Whoo hoo!!

    When I think about wooing
    I think whoopdedoo
    Are we still in the age of the woo?
    It seems like there’s less wooing and more whoopie whoopie woo.
    When I think about being wooed
    I think whoo hoo!
    I wouldn’t mind a little woo
    Or for someone to make a big whoopdedooo!

  36. Lisa McMahan says:

    I am submitting 2 on this one. The first one is written by me and the second was one my husband wrote for me.

    A Single Rose

    A single rose I give to you
    as a token of my affection
    The rest of the dozen
    were left in the store
    to be given to someone else.
    I need only one to prove to you
    the feelings I have are true.

    This single rose sprouted from a seed
    nestled deep in God’s green earth.
    Bursting through it’s blanket of dirt
    the stem stretches towards the burning sun.
    Soon a single bud forms ready to share
    its colorful brilliance. Just as the sun
    and the rain nourish the rose and make it grow
    my love for you grows as well.

    With time the rosebud awakes
    blooming in beautiful splendor.
    Just as its petals open to kiss the sun
    and envelope the warmth in its embrace
    I open my arms wide to let you inside.
    My love for you grows each and every day
    fed by the love you have for me.
    Our love is forever growing
    one that will last an eternity.

    Are You the One?

    Another rainy morning people rushing by
    My head is still in the clouds
    I dream with open eyes
    Suddenly out of no where
    She came into my life
    Like we known each other for a while
    Are you the one that god has made for me
    Are you the one thats always in my dreams
    The one that keeps me going when i can’t go on
    The one I’ve been waiting for …..for so long
    In the sound of silence the time is standing still
    There’s some kind of bond between us that gives me a chill
    Do you really wonder that we can burn the sky
    It’s written a thousand years ago in the book of life
    Are you the one that god has made for me
    Are you the one who’s mine eternally
    The one that keeps me dreaming when I am sad and tired
    Who gives my life meaning till the day I die

  37. Linda Hofke says:

    Love is like a window;
    it has its pains,
    but when the sun
    shines brightest,
    we throw open the shutters
    and let the light
    warm our souls.

  38. oh no you didn’t :) I tend to shy away from the capital "L" because it pulls out the cliche in me. But if Billy Collins can write a love poem that makes me swoon, then I suppose I can give it a try. I pulled out a bit of Billy’s poem to inspire me…

    Unmatched

    You will always be the bread and the knife,
    not to mention the crystal goblet and—somehow—
    the wine.
    ~Billy Collins

    I can’t remember the color
    of your eyes or the shape
    of your chin (though I see
    the day-old stubble surrounding
    that smile I couldn’t refuse).
    I was just the poet and you,
    you were the bread and the knife,
    the crystal goblet and the wine,
    all together.
    You contained what intoxicated me—
    you cut me open and poured
    a kindred soul into my own.
    You were the bread I wanted
    to feast on and the clarity I thirsted for.

    Yes, you will always be bread, knife, goblet and wine.
    And I am the mountain, longing for the depths of the sea.

  39. Diane says:

    I had a hard time being serious with this prompt, so I hope you don’t mind a little comic relief….

    Harley Quinn

    Harley was so handsome
    in his suit of red and green,
    and the trim of black and yellow
    made him quite a dapper fellow!

    One day he told his mother
    that he had found his true love:
    a girl with long brown hair
    and green eyes in face so fair!

    But there was another reason
    the maid his heart had stolen,
    he would make her his royal queen
    because she dressed in green.

    His mother wept and claimed
    it would come to no good end
    and it grieves my heart to tell you
    tragedy came while love was new.

    Harley waited in the meadow
    watching her approaching form
    then he hopped upon a flower
    revealed himself to her that hour.

    She was dazzled by his beauty
    and gently cupped him in her hand
    they in awe admired each other
    never noticing another.

    Gently she bore him home
    and she made him a terrarium;
    she would take him out each day
    so at each other they could gaze.

    Alas! one day, without them knowing
    a spider crept inside his home.
    He fought bravely to the end
    but the spider conquered Harley Quinn.

    His true love awoke next morning
    for to gaze into his eyes
    but, alas, she wailed, she cried;
    her grasshopper prince had died!

    You can see a picture of Harley at http://www.trekearth.com/gallery/North_America/United_States/photo52233.htm

  40. Gratia Karmes says:

    Love Will Let you Choose.

    The dust flies as
    old magazines, and sheaves of paper
    strategies for anti-war movements, the fight to teach
    evolution, fair trade activism, bank receipts from
    Voices of Freedom (you’d have loved it, they tell me) and
    art books in every language–some are recycled
    some assigned to boxes, carefully labeled.
    They will never be opened again.

    Books about Hitler
    bring the same twinge of sorrow
    as Barbara Tuchman.

    The house must be emptied
    The movers will be here soon.

    The shelf of fossils, don’t touch them
    Someone with a delicate touch
    has promised to wrap each, not considering the irony.

    He used to date Marge Piercy.
    He used to live in New York, and walk to work
    through Central Park.
    He played his violin under the old lamp posts,
    and still has the framed poster, of the street scene
    rain and lights and darkness all combined.

    His wife gently insists that he must decide
    which things go, which are left, which are given
    away.
    a library is burning down.

    She puts the old post cards from Germany
    With the photo albums. "We might mail these to someone; they
    are still beautiful."

    He starts to protest, but she quietly saves them.
    He smiles at me.

    "Marge Piercy told me she wanted to be a writer. I said
    Oh No, not you too."

    Dinner is brought to him; fine china that was her mother’s
    (might as well use it now)
    and they murmur and laugh.

    I leave them.

    I will return, there is much more to be done
    But this was all we could take.
    All we could take, of the dust
    the decisions,
    and for me
    the envy.

  41. Phyllis Elswick says:

    My Love for Flowers

    As I walk along I cannot help but see the beauty around me
    The flowers blooming, the fields like carpets of yellow
    The new green leaves on all the trees.

    My soul is filled with passion as I realize my love for flowers
    And all their beauty in the rainbow of colors
    , red, yellow, purple, orange.
    Nothing is more relaxing and refreshing than a beautiful
    Yard full of flowers. Beautiful Lilac bushes with their
    Sweet aroma, tulips, daffodils, crocus, alls so colorful.

  42. Laurie Kolp says:

    Love is…

    Love is…
    a newborn baby,
    fresh and innocent,
    pure as water,
    crying, then content.

    Love is…
    a clasping hand
    of a friend so true,
    never letting go
    no matter what you do.

    Love is…
    a wedding ring
    round and never-ending.
    A promise so true
    through life;
    a kiss, endearing.

    Love is…
    a family
    together, a pact.
    A bond that can’t be broken
    by this given fact.

    Love is…
    a gift from God
    given from above
    so freely, like a string
    flying with the dove.

    Love is…
    around us
    wherever we may go.
    It’s up to us to grab it,
    give it away,
    and watch it grow.

  43. A Day for Writing Love Poems, But

    It was a day for writing love poems, but
    I was too busy
    praying for peace and weeping

    asking the Great Mother
    to take and resolve my dilemmas
    with husband and son

    defending family members
    one from another
    and keeping my own place with all

    a day for being romantic but
    I was helping one rehearse a talk for tomorrow
    listening to another’s daily dreams

    and looking at a photo of my dead cousin
    smiling as only she could
    radiant in spite of pain

    and somewhere behind my mind
    I was asking how one might journey
    so as to become pure spirit, an orb of light.

    © Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2008

    Just couldn’t manage this one at this time, sorry! Re the above, one could say there are many kinds of love – however we all know which one kind was meant. But there it is; this’ll have to do.

  44. JL Smither says:

    With Pound Cake and Sugar

    Believe it or not, I’m so thrilled
    to be paired with you that
    I can’t help but tell your friends about our spats.

    I know it embarrasses you,
    but to me, there’s nothing more beautiful
    than our disagreements over how to load
    the dishwasher, whether ghosts exist,
    or the proper way to make strawberry shortcake.

  45. Devon Brenner says:

    Ruby’s Easter

    We colored eggs at ten PM, the
    Friday before Easter,
    the only time she had off work,
    she brought the new boy Kyle,
    with his black bangs and sknny jeans.
    Together we layered spring shades
    onto the oval canvasses,
    and she laughed,
    bumping hands and splashing dye
    till the kitchen smelled of vinegar.
    We colored eggs and then I
    sent them home to Kyle’s roommates,
    no matter that I’d be eggless
    and alone on Sunday morning.
    We colored eggs at ten PM
    that Good Friday night,
    a moment of hope and renewal,
    watching my daughter fall in love.

  46. Sarah says:

    Conjure You

    With a full moon and empty arms,
    I shut my eyes and conjure you.
    Dressed in a suit is the only way
    I can picture you, but once you’re here,
    you loosen your snappy tie and toss
    your jacket on the arm of the couch.
    Make yourself at home. You smile,
    showing the small gap that I adore
    between your two front teeth.
    I never could resist a man in glasses.
    Our eyes lock. Dark blue meets light blue.
    Waves crash. You rest your hand
    on my cheek, and I lean into your touch.
    Your hand, like mine, is small and warm.

  47. Carol -Amherst, Mass says:

    True Love

    Friday afternoon
    At five o’clock.
    Finding a Twenty dollar bill
    in my jacket pocket

    Waking up
    to the sound of sniffing
    And kitty’s nose
    Pressed up against mine

    The smell of heat
    Coming through the radiator
    The first time
    In the Autumn

    When my boss
    Reprimands me for
    Making an error
    And then makes
    An even worse mistake
    herself (hee hee hee)

    Millions of Fireflies
    like a carpet of
    twinkling Christmas lights
    in July

    The smell of
    clean dry sheets
    coming off
    the clothesline

    Being home
    All by myself
    Just me
    And the cats

    The smell of books
    when I enter
    the library or
    A bookstore

    Waching the steam
    Curl from a hot
    mug of tea
    with milk in it

    True Love

  48. Shana says:

    (intimacy)

    Skin to skin
    Satin, the softest slide
    Like nothing
    else

    Nose to nose
    Myopic immersion
    Skin face breath
    Like no other
    intimacy

    Eye to eye
    The contact deeper
    than anything
    Like an
    acknowledgment

    A shared conversation
    a thread from the day before or
    an hour ago
    A glance met across a room
    A smile
    that yes
    yes, I know
    A shared world

    Hand in hand
    Harder than other acts
    and more meaningful
    Strange, yet true: confirmed by girls
    everywhere

    Mouth on mouth
    combined
    The reassurance of daily contact
    The nerves of a first
    The pleasure of familiar, knowing

    Foot against foot
    At the end of the bed
    Sleepy or
    Sated or
    Companionable or
    Testing

    A couple’s universe
    Inhabited by no others
    Shared rituals
    Private jokes
    Anguishes explained
    A world
    like no other
    (love)

  49. jane says:

    Love Where It Matters

    I washed dishes for 32 years.
    When he moved in
    he told me that
    I never have to wash
    another dish
    as long as I live.

    That’s Love!

    * * * * *

  50. Lorien Vidal says:

    this will be a challenge – my hubby’s mom is sick from cancer with no relief in sight and the family drama is already starting. we’ll see what comes out…

    Even though it’s been done before, the "I-do’s" then don’ts
    The dime-store 3-little-words
    Rusted from having been spoken too many times without meaning
    The broken ties that I would never bind again
    All tied around you, the new
    All you’ve done and are
    Makes you the first, the ONE

  51. I can’t imagine me without her
    Although she is far from divine
    She is absolutely sublime
    All my love to her I will confer

    I guess it must be her smile
    Or that she’s surprisingly witty
    Her taste in jokes can sometimes be…a pity
    But groan or laugh it’s worth it all the while

    I adore just to hear her talk
    And she knows my mind
    Through it all to me she’s been kind
    And never have my ways made her balk

    She doesn’t know the ways
    That for her I’d care
    And everything that we’d share
    For the rest of our days

    I can’t imagine me without her
    And I hope she thinks the same
    Because it is her soul that is my flame
    And her I want as my partner

  52. Lyn says:

    longing
    overcoming obstacles
    vowing solemn commitment
    embracing change and difficulty
    understanding happiness comes from within
    enjoying private shared moments
    valuing our life together
    offering solace
    love

  53. jane says:

    What great poems. I am such a fan of so many of you. Today, Carla, your poem really moved me. Thank you SO much.

  54. Liz Hill says:

    You’re beautiful, you’re beautiful
    I drink it like a tonic into every pore
    Like an old forgotten secret
    My soul has always known
    And my heart is desperate to recover.

  55. Sally DiUlus says:

    Marcus Smith – I can just hear the #1 hit on the radio, "Emerald Eyes" – eloquent and perfect.

  56. Sally DiUlus says:

    Joannie – your poem is absolutely delicious!

    Iain – Your expression in your poem is quite beautiful. Thank you for sharing such depth.

  57. Sally DiUlus says:

    PAD Challenge Day 20, 2008 Poetic Asides
    PAD # 20

    “Love with a capital L”©
    by Sally DiUlus

    April 20, 2008

    Love with a capital L, Lightning sparks, Laughter
    Oh! I am in pursuit, and being thus
    Victory dawns delight
    Everything is coated with icing.

    Sally DiUlus sdiulus@cefe.org

  58. Ang says:

    Bruce – Cultivation is lovely

    Carol – Today’s Sermon – a powerful message!

  59. Cheryl Wray says:

    And another one…for Gary, of course!

    "The First Dance"

    I smile when someone asks,
    "How did you meet?"
    and I tell the story of
    how a stranger asked me to dance

    and I said yes,
    and we danced,
    and talked,
    and went out to dinner,
    and danced some more,
    and kissed,
    and kissed,
    and fell in love,
    and keep falling in love

    over
    and
    over
    again.

  60. Cheryl Wray says:

    The weekend really knocked me off schedule, so I’m trying to get back on track. Just posted 19, and here is 20. So glad you did this prompt!

    "the little reasons"

    when I lose my keys,
    when I interrupt your sentences,
    when I don’t wash your socks,
    when I make us late,
    when I run out of money,
    when I tickle your feet,
    when I don’t turn out the lights.
    you love me still.
    because
    "for better or worse"
    is in the little things too.

  61. Corinne says:

    These are all truly inspirational. Many thanks. Corinne

  62. Kevin says:

    They say love poems are cliche… they kind of get a bad rap. But what I’ve read here re-inforces my belief that LOVE brings out the best in the poet. Great words, people.

  63. halfmoon_mollie says:

    geese bring the
    spring time
    back with them
    their V across
    the sky ripping
    winter in pieces
    with them comes
    earlier dawns
    later sunsets
    rising of sap
    blood courses faster
    there are those
    who would waste
    these hours
    but in your company
    they seem all too
    short I watch you
    more through the
    honey light and
    feel my heart swell
    and open like
    the buds of
    lilacs that
    wave behind you
    in our window

  64. Linda S-W says:

    Renee- Loved yours. So much packed into three line. And Shirley – yours also wonderful, but I especially appreciated your comment about duct tape and health insurance. Peace, Linda

  65. AlaskanRC says:

    ~Small Gestures of Love~

    The love we share
    still burns even now…
    Long after you’ve
    gone. The oddest of things
    will remind me of the
    simplest of gestures…
    Gestrues that I never
    fully appreciated before.

    The way you stroke my cheek
    as you gaze at me.
    Your fingers gental as
    they run through my hair.
    Butterfly kisses in the
    morning teasing me from
    my dreams.

    How I miss those moments
    and gestures of love that
    speak more volume then words.
    I wonder if you think of me…
    are there triggers
    that cause memories to
    flash before your eyes?

    The hours of our seperation
    only make those memories
    more intense and sweet.
    I can’t wait until this
    seperation finally ends
    Then I’ll get to tease that
    dark intensity into your eyes
    and watch your eyes fill to the brink.

    I believe I’ve actually caught up!

  66. Shirley T. says:

    I wanted to add this just for fun, being such an "expert" on the subject (I’ve fallen in love so many times, my HMO won’t cover the damage and my heart is held together with duct tape.)

    I Don’t Know Love

    I know little of love
    Except when it’s gone
    The world slows down
    And everything’s wrong.

    There’s little I know
    Except when love’s found
    Nothing else matters
    And the earth whirls around.

    Of love I know just
    So little about,
    Except that it’s better
    To be in than out.
    ###

    Those who think love comes
    Only in the first blush
    of youth are fools.
    Those who believe in
    Second chances are still
    Fools, but they are
    Much better at it.
    ###

  67. Shirley T. says:

    Very First Love

    Everyone knew us as
    Sweethearts from the start,
    Though I really don’t recall
    Exactly how that came about.
    It went on that whole year,
    Always blushing when we met,
    Making the same silly face that
    Even now I can’t forget.
    I was the only girl invited to
    His "cowboy" birthday bash,
    Came with boots and spurs
    my hat and two six-guns, just like
    All the boys, but he held my hand
    When we ran through the woods
    Just in case I fell.
    On the last day before summer,
    When school was letting out,
    He came to tell me he was moving,
    Had already met someone new,
    Though he had the grace to say
    She wasn’t as cute as I, but nice.
    He gave me his roller skate key,
    Said I’d always be his girl,
    Then he went away.
    Over fifty years is a long time
    To remember someone, but
    No other boy ever gave me
    A silver roller skate key.
    ###

    Later On. . .

    After the robins have all returned,
    After the crocus bloom and tree bud,
    After spring’s bright blossom,
    In the lush green of late summer
    They lie side by side in the old hammock,
    Watching the young people in the park
    Engage in the battles of courtship,
    Content.
    ###

    Shirley T.

  68. Lorraine Hart says:

    S’not the next day until I sleeps, preshuss!

    Beloved

    Light the fire beloved,
    and I will warm you so deep
    even the ashes will glow
    against indigo night,
    fill the cup beloved,
    and I will pour through canyons
    of our layered history
    a river eternal,
    turn the soil beloved,
    and I will grow to your hands
    a dark ripened root
    ancient in its healing,
    sing the air beloved,
    and I will know the melody
    we made in all these years,
    though each note sounds new
    when the elements move, beloved

  69. Shannon Rayne says:

    Who am I in your dream?

    The $20 bill
    cutting your index finger
    when you shoved your quickening hands
    into last year’s spring coat pocket.

    The stinger
    falling loose from polinating bees.

    Tapping rubber soles on mahagony wood
    thumping stuttered ryhthms
    along with the dizzy spin of banjo strings.

    The bulge of skin
    pressed thin beneathe denim
    bursting the seam.

  70. Keefe

    In the dark of doubt
    You remind me
    I’m home
    No matter where I am
    When I hear your voice
    The tears dry
    And I can smile again
    Sometimes the tears fall
    Because I’m grateful

  71. Susan Reichert says:

    Love

    I wake up every morning
    and can’t help but smile
    for laying beside me is
    the man of my dreams.
    With every breath I take
    a sense of wonder washes
    over me as I lay next
    to this man I love.

    Susan
    April 20
    Day#20

  72. Capital L Love

    I refuse to write
    a capital L love poem;
    it’s just not in me.

  73. Tonya Root says:

    True Love

    I loved with sweet words spoken
    but my lover spoke not a word.

    I loved with longing glances
    but my beloved saw me not.

    I loved with tender touches
    but I felt no affection in response.

    I loved with noble intentions
    but my dear rebuffed them all.

    I loved with burning passion
    but my love was not returned.

    I thought that life would end
    when my lover took his leave.

    I found sweet life anew, darling,
    and I am sure you fully know me.

    I am amazed to find you willing
    to lay down your very life for me.

    I love with all my heart now
    and you keep that heart with care.

  74. Emily Blakely says:

    Well, Robert, we HAD spring in OR for a short while, then winter crept back with new snow. It’s beautiful, but robins and other birds had already returned from their warmer climes. I saw a hummingbird roosting in our barn tonight.
    **********

    twenty-two years and holding

    holiday anticipation
    electrified the gathering
    as conversations hummed
    between friends and acquaintances

    interest dawned
    when their eyes met
    for more than an instant
    smiling from across the room

    hearts beat in rhythm
    with the clock’s ticking
    until at last it struck midnight
    a new year, a first kiss–hope answered

  75. Crystal Cameron says:

    Green Lakes

    I wore the sunburn on the back of my neck
    like a badge. Earned from an hour spent
    in a paddle boat, on that lake. That lake.
    The bacteria makes appear it green, the sign said.
    A glacier compelled by invisible forces,
    carving into the soft pre-history earth,
    made it deep. And the sunfish swimming
    just below my floating body, made me scream.
    You laughed pulling me to you.
    I said i hated you, for not telling me it was there.
    Your face found the curve between my neck and shoulder.
    My feigned fury dissolved into the water.
    Days like that, never last forever.

  76. Tiffany B says:

    Sleep

    "I remember well where I should be
    and there I am. Where is my Romeo?"
    Juliet, Romeo and Juliet Act V Scene 3

    Please wake me up if you have a nightmare
    it’s part of why I’m next to you in the night,
    you whisper in my ear. I exhale slowly.

    My world isn’t in my bed- it is in yours
    wherever you are, sleeping, awake, it’s you.
    My comfort is in sleeping, like naked spoons,
    in a dark drawer hiding from daylight.

    You go away each night and each nap,
    while I sleep you vanish.
    I love to get to wake up and remember
    all that is us.

    From the first time I stood in the doorway
    hoping you might kiss me before I left.
    To the first time you saw me cry
    when I lost my wallet at Versailles.

    The way your lips feel in the morning
    the way your skin feels in the night.
    I get to find and remember all over again
    each time I wake up.

  77. In Tent

    Bluejays riot in the campsite:
    s’more debris, hot chocolate powder
    and apple peels overlooked in last
    night’s rush to bed are their morning
    feast.
    Eventually we will
    have to open the zipper,
    get up and clean up
    the table.
    Let’s just lay here for now
    remembering our own discovery
    and content.

  78. Bill Kirk says:

    Meant To Be
    By Bill Kirk

    Many might say
    It was an unlikely coupling
    From the very beginning—
    A small-town girl from North Dakota
    And a boy with roots in the deep south.
    People must wonder
    How we ever found each other.
    Should we tell them?

    It was the spring of 1969
    And the Zip To Zap
    Was our very first date—
    A date that would seal our fate.
    Bound for glory
    On a Spring Break weekend,
    Our future together began as the
    North Dakota National Guard
    Gave chase from the west
    To the Minnesota border—
    Bet you’ve never seen that
    In a love poem before.

    By all accounts that should have been enough
    To quash any hopes of a second date,
    Much less grandchildren.
    From a Labor Day betrothal on Virginia Beach
    To a courthouse wedding in West Texas,
    Our two intertwined lives and loves
    Can only be described as
    Meant to be.

  79. Jolanta Laurinaitis says:

    Sirdis

    In your arms
    The world could fall apart
    The buildings could crash
    The waters could rise

    But I am safe
    I am protected
    It all could happen
    And I wouldn’t know

    And I wouldn’t care
    My soul is escalating
    My heart intensifies
    And I sigh deep

    And I feel complete
    My shattered heart
    Pieces fitting whole again
    Fitting the hole

    So in love with you
    So in love with being in love
    So in love with this feeling
    So in love with you.

  80. L’AMOUR ISN’T JUST FOR THE FRENCH

    Tingling
    Soft touches
    Kisses in between
    waiting
    hearing your voice
    connecting even
    when not present
    forgetting hurt
    realizing how good
    excited
    stimulated
    wanting to write
    that great book
    just to meet you again—

  81. VS Bryant says:

    4/20/08 –

    A Love Story

    For you I would climb the highest mountain, for nothing can ever compare to the love we share
    You are like a breath of fresh air, clearing my lungs after the storms has passed
    There was never any one quite like you, your strength, your courage, everything that you do
    Being in love with you, has been this amazing gift, what a ride it has been one I will truly miss
    Waking up each day to see you laying there beside me, I wonder how in the world I got by without thee
    Holding you in my arms makes me remember what true happiness really is
    Looking into your eyes shows me why life with you has always been such bliss
    Day after day, I pray you will forever be okay
    Night after night, I pray you will always be alright
    Since you’ve been here my life has been amazing, so you not being near would be such devastation
    These words I write to you are from my heart, this is my love story, the main characters; my daughters, my spark.

  82. Mario Jaime says:

    (A love poem? That’s all I’ve written!)

    Valerie

    The very first time that I ever noticed you
    I do believe you were singing
    I heard your pretty voice, and my heart, I swear, flew
    But to you, I wasn’t facing

    The second, I noticed you were swinging your feet
    My face smiled, it’s mostly stark
    I desperately wanted our faces to meet
    But the whole room was so pitch dark

    Then there was the third time: when I saw your beauty
    In a black and purple sweater
    You hair was well made and your face, a tad greasy
    I want to know you much better

    Some days go saying not one word to each other
    I know that we’re both very shy
    I’m stunned by your beauty, how it’s like no other
    So much so, that I start to cry

    You’re the only girl to truly make me smile
    You make my heart skip tons of beats
    No one’s ever done that to me in a while
    My favorite days? The ones we meet

    (And to think, I’m sure the girl I’m writing about all the time doesn’t even know I feel this way…)

  83. Carol Brian says:

    Today’s Sermon—Love and Conflict

    After the “in love” feeling
    has settled down
    and you’re staring
    at the one you’ve promised
    to love forever,

    Remember:
    –that iron sharpens iron,
    –what the purpose of marriage is,
    –and that when you fight to win,
    you lose.

    Carol Brian

  84. A Wish

    I’ll go ahead and say
    each day should be like today:
    you and I stepping in cool sand,
    thinking of nothing but ourselves
    and our future.

    We talked all day long.
    I told you more secrets, and they
    delighted you as much as ever.
    It’s like you got to unwrap another layer of me,
    you got to bury your nose in it and breathe it in,
    like you were parading through the pages
    of my private things.

    But you know
    I’d tell you anything, so you knew
    I’d tell you what I was thinking about when,
    like you said, my eyes were pondering.
    And they were – dark green and wandering,
    away from the both of us.
    So when you asked me for my thoughts,
    I gave them to you, sans penny.

    In your sunburned ear,
    I whispered my wish
    that we could always be here:
    spilling out our stories,
    counting out the waves,
    letting ourselves live
    and thrive and listen…

    oh, how I loved you then
    and still, many miles away
    from that salty shoreline.
    Of course, we knew we could not stay –
    not together. Not tonight. Not today.

  85. Anahbird says:

    Come Home

    Love isn’t perfection
    It’s acceptance you said
    People must change together
    And grow together
    Not change FOR the other
    You also said people change
    In different ways when
    They are apart
    You say
    You love me
    But you went away
    And you changed
    Sometimes
    I feel
    Like I don’t know you
    Anymore
    But your soul
    Still binds me to you
    On the deepest level
    We are still the same
    And no one’s voice
    Can soothe me
    Like you
    So please
    Come home
    And give us a chance
    To grow together
    To change together
    To love each other
    Before too much time passes
    And the love we profess
    Fades away
    You say you love me
    Prove it
    Come home.

  86. Judy Stewart says:

    Young Love

    I loved you or so I thought
    when I was too young
    to really know what love was all about

    I loved you or so I thought
    when I rode around town
    so proud to be the one with you

    I loved you or so I thought
    when I gave myself to you
    that night when I had drank too much

    I loved you or so I thought
    when I had to let you go
    for someone else had your heart

    I find myself thinking now
    back over the years
    and know it was young love but
    oh how it still hurts
    When I know I loved you
    but was too young to have you.

    I have enjoyed all of the poems today. This one came from WAY back for me! like almost 40 years ago! I have never written a poem like this about this so it came straight from the heart!

  87. Beth Browne says:

    Hello all,

    It seems like my first post was unsuccessful, so I am trying again. Forgive me if it posts twice.

    I’d Like To Take You To Dinner

    At the Rockin’ Comet Diner
    the waitresses wear t-shirts
    that say, “Nothin’ could be finer,
    than this Carolina diner,”
    and we sit at a small chipped table
    crowded with condiments
    and a dented napkin holder.

    You order liver and onions,
    I get fried green tomatoes and fried okra
    because this a Southern diner, after all
    and Southern food is all about fried,
    but we skip dessert,
    which might have been banana pudding,
    partly because we’ve eaten enough
    and partly because we can’t wait
    to get home.

  88. Bruce Niedt says:

    Cultivation

    Every year,
    the trees in our yard
    parade through April –
    first the flowering pear,
    then the weeping cherry,
    the dogwood and azalea.
    By the time honeysuckle
    sweetens the air, we are
    into the season full swing,
    weeding, tilling, clipping,
    side by side, getting dirt
    under our nails, which
    doesn’t bother us, as long
    as those hands still hold
    each other at the end of the day,
    every day, perennially.

  89. Earl Parsons says:

    Love Again

    Loneliness and pain seemed
    To be my common ground.
    Looking for someone to fill
    My empty void of love.
    Someone who could take my heart
    And patch it up again
    To make me feel again.

    Then a form of loneliness
    Came to my wanting soul
    Crying for a caring heart
    To share her painful life
    And take her loneliness away
    So she could live again
    And feel some love again.

    You’ve taken all my loneliness
    And I have taken yours.
    The pain that we once had
    Is covered by our love.
    A love so strong and true
    We both can feel again.
    We’ve learned to love again.

  90. patti williams says:

    Heather thank you.

  91. Deb Hill says:

    April 20, day 20
    Beginnings

    Only one thought, only one moment,
    only this matters. I covet you, like sleep
    I’ve been deprived of -
    I fear for my own feelings!
    Yet you calm my hesitation, you say;
    Everything has a beginning, this is ours, you are my
    tiny seed. I am the soil that surrounds you with
    warm firm arms. I intend to rain words of truth
    so you will grow strong and trust me. I will encourage
    strength in yourself, breaking through layers of doubts.
    As your tender petals bloom you will grow confidence in how
    magnificently you are loved.

  92. Essa Bostone says:

    Such a great little lovefest. I couldn’t leave it that the only poem I posted on that little 4 letter word didn’t speak enough to the prompt …so here goes:

    LOVE

    Oh courtship
    How glorious!
    Bike rides on the Charles
    Coffee at au bon Pain
    People-watching
    Exchanging quips
    I saw you dance and then I knew
    You were the one

    Your mom called to see
    Where you had been
    For months
    I said
    He’s in the shower
    Handed you the phone
    She has never forgotten

    Ten months in France
    You gave up a safari for me
    Lost your deposit
    I gave up what passed for a life
    New job and friends
    We would be together whatever

    Babies
    Loving them
    Long nights of crying
    Teenagers then,
    And more long nights of crying
    Or waiting for them to come home safe

    They say time goes by fast when
    You’re having a good time
    Today’s bike ride recalls our beginning
    Reminds us of the road we’ve traveled
    But just where did those 21 years go?

  93. Sheryl Kay Oder says:

    To My Hubby

    Your touch has always been gentle.
    Your classical guitar lulls me to sleep.
    You quietly crept into my heart
    like a cat gently laid on my lap.

    On our honeymoon
    we walked holding hands
    While others simply played Bingo.
    Bingo?

    Well, I have you.
    BINGO!

  94. Beth Camp says:

    The volume could be lower.
    Silence would be best.
    Tonight the History channel
    vies with ESPN. World War II
    echoes around me as I try
    to write a love poem, today’s
    poetic aside.

    Serious tones announce German attacks.
    Next voices rise with excitement:
    the 76ers have won a NBA game. Innings pass;
    76,000 men are taken prisoners.
    I think love is here
    in this rented room,
    in the words I do not speak,
    in the poem I don’t write.

  95. Omavi Ndoto says:

    See

    See
    These
    Hands
    As
    They
    Long
    To
    Hold
    You

    As an aurora borealis shimmers
    I see effervescent streaks
    That signifies to me your beautiful life
    Sitting in the midst of eternity
    As the fabulous and fantastic grow around me
    You are the only once in a lifetime
    Experience that my mind can understand
    Or the only extraordinary visage
    That my eyes want
    The only soothing morning breeze
    Filled with lilac and ocean waves
    Calling my name in a way that only
    The owner of my all ever could
    Please

    See
    These
    Hands
    As
    They
    Long
    To
    Hold
    You

    See that I love you

  96. Lyn Sedwick says:

    A Love Song

    Love, lovely
    Lovey, velvety,
    Velocity, lovely
    Lyrical, revealing
    Love, love to love,
    To my love, all
    My love, lovely,
    With love, lost
    then found love,
    Lost in love, oh
    So happy lost,
    Love to love
    You.

    Lyn Sedwick

  97. Khara House says:

    PS– I really enjoyed these folks’ poems: Teri Coyne, Rox, Joannie, Michelle H., and Iain’s "Love’s Sweet Dream" trilogy :)

  98. Ang says:

    ck-
    I like yours – Tell Me Saturday…..

  99. Ang says:

    Love

    Love is many faceted
    Passion for my sweetheart
    Affection to my children
    Devotion to my mother

    Love has taken me outside myself
    To a place where kisses flutter
    To a place where hugs surround
    To a place where I can give

    Love is conveyed in words, deeds, expressions
    It speaks soft and gentle
    It helps the helpless
    It cries when others sorrow

    Without love I wouldn’t know
    How sweet a baby’s smile
    How tender a father’s heart
    How dear a friend

  100. Khara House says:

    I’m posting the poem, but I haven’t come up with a title yet (and I hate poems titled "untitled" … I just can’t handle it!) Any suggestions?!

    Sweet apple blossoms
    and succulent plums
    sit tired and spent beside us
    on a now stained picnic
    blanket. And you lace
    flowering white in my hair
    as the pulpy red hearts
    disappear across the grass.
    And we wrap ourselves in sheets
    of light and hold each other
    firmly by the core.
    And the sun sinks into universal dawns
    as you whisper those
    plum somethings in my
    blooming ear.

  101. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    Today, I have read some of the most beautiful love poems ever written (IMHO), Robert I am a fan, but today’s poem blew me away.

    Rod.

  102. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    Thank you Michelle, your poem is beautiful, I was just hoping to be able to post some of the others I had written for my wife. On a different note, she is still laughing at the last one I wrote about myself. :-)

    Thank you Susan, I felt that since I was writing about my wife, I thought it only fair to write about myself in the marriage. Of course, I would only write the truth. :-)

    Rod.

    PS, I meant to post this earlier, but I contracted a VUNDO Virus on my computer, and could no longer post. So, since I could not post it, I saved the file, and cleaned the virus, and am posting it now.

  103. Liza says:

    Blinded Love

    How can one love
    and then not love?
    I don’t know how
    to let love die.

    I remember how we stayed up
    for hours talking about anything.
    Now, we barely talk.
    Should I feel it’s my fault.

    I think I’ve made myself
    too available for sure.
    When will it be your turn
    to wonder where I am.

    I long for the day
    you realize just how much
    I love you and still do.
    Can’t you see how you hurt me?

    Am I fool
    to think we can still work
    as a couple even with
    our many problems?

    My heart aches for my love.
    the one who wooed me so long ago.
    It’s been almost ten years now
    since the day we first kissed.

    You found a way to slow me down
    to make me norice the small details.
    You and me sitting on the porch
    watching the sun set on the horizon.

    If I could I’d change it all
    just to have those times
    of contentment back with you
    holding me in your arms.

    I’ll still be waiting
    for you to return
    being ever so patient
    in my blinded love.

  104. ck says:

    Tell me Saturday,
    Monday, Wednesday afternoon;
    Tell me riverside,
    Mountain, desert canyon, sea.
    Lover, tell me – and soon, soon.

  105. Michelle H. says:

    Karen – I loved you’re poem! I can very much relate, my husband travels almost weekly! Thanks for sharing! Michelle H.

  106. Again,
    great poems, great bunch of people. So glad I found this blog.
    Debra

  107. satia says:

    Broken Trust

    Trust is freely given, easily lost.
    A betrayal, a lie, an unkind word,
    these incidents come with a heavy cost
    making me take back all that I offered.

    You apologize for telling me lies
    then get angry with me for my lack of
    trust which neither of us really denies
    as we attempt to reignite our love.

    The embers now so dead that I feel cold
    as we go through the motions pretending
    we, together, can weave straw into gold.
    Our relationship is not ending.

    What I never say to you when you can
    hear: I love you and love no other man.

  108. Nancy says:

    How to Write a Love Poem

    Choose an iambic vessel for your pleasure
    An octave and sestet for good measure
    A dash of onomatopoeia will suffice,
    Boom Boom,’s too much, but pit-a-pat is nice.
    Ask for my heart. Surely I’ll recognize
    Synecdoche and give the rest as prize.
    Love, dove; strife, life—use no rhymes so cliché;
    Choose simplest words for what you have to say.

    Give love its legs, you must personify
    A living thing, but do not let it die.
    Don’t mix your metaphors, but be direct
    Use similes as well that may reflect
    A view of love by what it most resembles
    And spice it up with literary symbols.

    But don’t dare use the least hyperbole
    If you want to get within a million miles of me.

  109. Awaken

    The Man in the Moon knows.
    He stays up past dawn
    To watch us.

    The morning doves
    Nest near our window
    For inspiration.

    And daffodils
    Bow in our direction,
    Accepting the warmth.

    While the world
    Is aware of
    Our love,

    We are oblivious
    To all but
    Each other.

  110. Sue Bench says:

    Love changes every day.
    This moment it’s warm;
    Last week it was cold, stormy.
    Some days it’s almost boring.
    Yet a look, a touch,
    starts a fire smoldering.
    Love often doesn’t show
    on the surface.
    But my love for you is
    always, always!
    in my heart.
    Forever!

  111. Robin Morris says:

    My first romance was like fine crystal,
    cracking so easily, it’s absurd to still hold
    the memory up to the light and imagine it pieced
    back together, into the goblet of could have been,
    holding bright futures, babies to be born:
    they would have been so pretty, so smart,
    since we were just teenagers but we knew
    "the ultimate truth is there is no ultimate truth"
    and knowing this together cemented our love
    for days if not weeks. I always remember
    lying back in the canoe in the lake
    at night and refusing to help row
    since I was becoming the moon.

  112. Marcus Smith says:

    (actually this may work better as a song – slowly in the key of D???????)

    "Emerald Eyes"

    Your emerald eyes
    As deep as they come
    As deep as the ocean
    As bright as the sun
    And your siren’s song
    Floating from your lips
    Dancing on the shipwrecked sky
    Threatening a thousand ships

    You’re a walking
    Work of art
    A living, breathing, talking
    Work of art

    Hard as a stone
    Yet soft as a smile
    Wisdom and youth
    Long as a mile
    Stretched out across a canvas
    On the sheets so white
    I sit and watch you sleeping
    Perfect In the morning light

    You’re a walking
    Work of art
    A living, breathing, talking
    Work of art

    The painter drops his brush
    And stares at the floor
    He knows he cannot paint perfection
    So he heads for the door
    You’re high on a pedestal
    Your beauty surrounds the room
    You smile at me and bite your lip
    I’ve been consumed

    You’re a walking
    Work of art
    A living, breathing, talking
    Work of art

    I forget everything when I look into your eyes
    I want to be deep inside
    Your emerald eyes

  113. Karen says:

    I am touched by the levels of joy, wonder, and pain in everyone’s love poems. This is truly a gifted and sensitive group. I enjoy knowing each one of you better as I read more of your poetry.

  114. SaraV says:

    20 Years in May

    Twenty Years in May
    And nearly every day
    I wake to your warmth
    Beside me

    Twenty Years in May
    And nearly every day
    You eat breakfast and dinner
    Beside me

    Twenty Years in May
    Seems an impossibility
    Travels and Children
    Pets and Gardens
    Renovations and Moves
    Ups and Downs
    Jobs, Money, Fights
    Sorrows, Joy
    Yet so much has passed
    Between, around and through us
    It could be eternity

    Twenty Years in May
    And there’ve been times
    I wasn’t sure that we
    Would see that day

    But in those nearly twenty years
    We’ve hung together, in spite of tears
    Because the bliss of a kiss
    On your sun-warmed skin
    Remains as strong as its ever been
    Because every night you hold me close
    And wake me with a snuggle that curls my toes
    And hold my hand and squeeze me tight
    And when I look into your eyes
    The passion that first took my breath away
    Still burns deeply as that first day
    So we’ll be celebrating 20 years in May!

  115. Okay, so I’ll be the first to admit that I’m cheating. I’m putting down a poem I wrote ten(eleven?) years ago, but it fits the prompt, so I’m going to write it. If I happen to be struck with another one, I’ll write that down, too.

    "All I Desire"

    How much more perfect can it be?
    I lie with you
    My fingers entwined in your hair
    You snuggled against me
    Your scent in my nostrils
    All that we have shared is a bed
    a night
    time
    And I cherish it more than I do
    anything in the whole world
    But I see the Sun’s unsubtle approach
    and with it’s rising
    the spell shall be broken
    the magic will disappear
    the dream will end
    And I silently weep
    because all I desire
    is to share a laugh
    a day
    my life
    with you

  116. Sara McNulty says:

    Illicit Love

    It was fire and flames
    Whenever I looked
    At your smile, or your brown
    Eyes bright with longing
    Burning holes in the blue of mine

    It was fire and flames
    Whenever we sat across
    From each other, unable
    To touch, but my body
    Seared at your closeness

    It was fire and flames
    Those rare times we lie
    Spent in each other’s arms
    Bathing in the scent of our bodies
    Knowing we must soon part

    It was fire and flames
    In a love so intense it
    Ached. And if it was only
    A facet of forbidden love
    We shall never know because
    You left this life far too young

  117. A.C. Leming says:

    To my roommate,
    39 years together come November

    We’re like oil and water –
    living cheek by jowl
    but unable to truly mix together
    unless violently shaken
    and then we only emulsify,
    each in our own, separate sphere.

    You hog the bathroom,
    singing dumb songs to your
    rubber duckie while I
    beat my pointed head
    against the wall, wanting
    to brush my gums.

    But I forgive you,
    for wanting me to play
    along with your silly
    word games and forcing
    me to get in touch
    with my feelings.

    I will leave you to
    your laughing friends
    and social games while
    I play alone with my
    pigeons and bottle caps,
    in serious contemplation.

    We meet again each night,
    as we do every morning,
    to say “Goodnight” and
    “G’Morning”, my dear
    friend, my roommate,
    my Muppet brother.

  118. Karen says:

    4-20-08

    I Miss My True Love

    Once again, dear, you’re on the road.
    We’re separated by miles and highways,
    But linked by cell.
    Several times a day, we’ll talk,
    But the other half of the bed tonight
    Will stay cool, empty, and neat.
    I should be used to kissing you goodbye
    By now.
    But I’m not.
    I want you to come home, kiss me good-night,
    And lie beside me till I hear the reassurance
    Of your warm breathing,
    The rhythm of your sleep,
    The sure, sweet, safe knowledge
    That you are here
    And always will be.

  119. Terri says:

    Home

    When unfamiliar walls close in
    and hallways that should echo
    with the voices of my children
    taunt me with their silence
    You reach out and bring me home

    The mornings when I pour
    despair into my cup
    and shower in the tepid waters
    of just another day
    You reach out and bring me home

    When I climb into a bed of memories
    and blanket myself in mistakes and regrets
    You reach out and bring me home

    To a place where joy can be found again
    In your arms
    Home

  120. Yoli says:

    I have to come back to Day 19, that one’s killing me! I haven’t been in this situation (We don’t do family reunions and since I’m always working, I’m ALWAYS reminiscing about the ‘good ‘ol days’ on the phone with my friends. I remember every detail, you know, before I was an "adult" and had to take of myself).

    Must figure out a different angle!

    In the mean time…

    Love poems…

    LOVE THEM! This was not difficult at all though I know I can do better than the one I’m posting. When I have more time, I’ll post another. Sorry it sounds depressing, it really isn’t! I promise!

    TO BE LONELY

    What it means to be lonely?
    It’s hard to breathe
    There’s something missing in my heart.
    No control
    Walking with this feeling
    Why can’t I be with you?
    Show me your meaning for lonely.
    Open your heart
    Share your secrets.
    Pain
    Won’t keep me away.
    I need you
    It feels right.
    Say what you mean
    And so will I.
    I know in my heart
    I need you now.
    Tonight.

  121. THE RED FLARE

    Oh no! I don’t need to write about love.
    Which of them will come to rescue my thought?
    One of those rusty nails left from the past
    that once in a while they want to be part
    of whatever I may have on the stove.
    Maybe I just want to write to the rose
    spawning from the turbulence of today,
    from all the peaty flesh staying away
    and to be in one place, quiet like a stone.

    Maybe I can search for reality
    and write about my love for poetry.

    Like the days love have its dawns and its dusks
    and I try to enjoy the light from them
    knowing that the emotions from its mell
    in our lives as they come they also go.
    I will always love the truth from my world;
    my writing, my flowers and my children
    and sometimes those things that are forbitten
    though they still a bleeding part of the soul.
    My life is a red flare spreading out love.

  122. Susan M. Bell says:

    In Love

    When I see them together, it always makes me
    smile. After so many years as a couple, it’s still
    obvious how much they love each other. She
    looks at him as he speaks, hanging on his every
    word. The love in her eyes cannot be missed. It
    almost hangs physically in the air between them.
    And after more than 50 years, they seem almost
    like newlyweds. I can’t help but think about my

    own marriage, and how it makes me feel just to
    see him walk into a room. My heart still skips up
    into my throat when I hear his voice. And when his
    hand brushes mine, I feel the years float away, like
    it’s still the first time our hands touched, as we sat
    in the dark movie theater. I can still feel that first
    kiss as the car radio played softly. And I wonder,
    will we still feel this way after 50 years have gone

    by? Will we still be as in love as they are, as they
    spend every waking moment together? And as I
    look at them, and think of him, I know we will be.

  123. Heather says:

    Love

    The creature I know
    Would surprise you

    He hides
    Within the tides of necessity

    Pulled in every direction
    He manages to stand
    Through the darkest of storms

    His fluid nature
    Rigidly balances
    Need and want

    Weathering the daily grind
    Has nearly cost him his life
    He’s in a race
    Against time

    The rhythm
    Wears him from within
    Tide out
    Tide In
    He has little more to give

    I love him
    I love him

    I
    Love
    Him

  124. Alfred J Bruey says:

    For You Marie, Because…

    I want to be near you
    but even when I’m not
    I still love you as if
    I were and when I’m
    near you I wish I
    could be nearer to you
    but sometimes when
    I’m near you I wish I
    could be away from you
    so I could look forward
    to being near you again
    and if that’s not love
    I don’t know what love is.

  125. Justin Evans says:

    Preference

    With you, here, asking night
    to forgive us our need for sleep,
    where else is there for me?
    What more than you
    is there ever for me to desire?
    Together we contradict the world
    while alone in the dark
    I cannot find my own face
    with my own hands. I’d not
    want to, preferring to find
    your hand, your face close to mine.

    *

  126. Kevin says:

    In burning for you,
    I am reminded of a better me,
    the swoon, the song, the sultry
    way you sway.
    I lift myself
    to be you,
    entwine myself
    to hold you,
    my lover living love.
    The touch you give,
    inside the heart,
    the raw, the burn, the sultry
    way I melt inside,
    you make a better me.

  127. Dee IKJ says:

    Second Time Around 04-20-08

    Lucky to be loved a second time,
    our hearts were jocund and sublime.

    Older now with time our teacher,
    off we went to find a preacher.

    Each day that passes and we are grateful,
    that to each other we are faithful.

  128. Maria Jacketti says:

    One Incarnation of Love

    cleans the litter-box,
    cackles, wakes me up with
    political commentaries,
    of a world pregnant
    with entropy, a blue rose with warts.

    Good love is a mentholated powder
    on the prickly heat of this world.

    Maria Jacketti

  129. Linda Brown says:

    For Guy

    You were the age of my son,
    yet more real than the men
    twice your age. You understood
    my dreams, and every tear I had
    already cried. The sweetness
    you possessed was as honest
    as the passion you displayed.
    You made me want again.
    Your hands found all the secrets
    of my body, each blemish,
    every scar. Your heart found
    the imperfections of my soul.
    Our shared laughter – as
    unforgettable as those long,
    languid nights of love – made me
    the happiest of women.
    We were foolish and impractical.
    I don’t regret one minute.

  130. Jeanette J. McAdoo says:

    MY TRUE LOVE PETE

    To the ends of the earth I searched for you,
    It’s been such a very long wait.
    Until we met I was feeling blue,
    Your romantic side is an impressive trait.

    Your oh so gentle and yet so strong,
    Your touch so soft and your tender kiss.
    I know with you I can’t go wrong,
    Life with you is nothing but bliss.

    You turned my sadness into joy,
    You held my hand to comfort me.
    It’s crystal clear our love’s no ploy,
    You opened my eyes now I can see.

    True love really does exist,
    Patience is the difficult part.
    Your magical love power I can’t resist,
    Of anyone I know you have the biggest heart.

  131. Jane Penland Hoover says:

    About Love

    Some say
    love blooms. Not I.
    Love is no show staged by two
    But grafts between them buried safe
    Hidden
    © Jane Penland Hoover

  132. Jane Penland Hoover says:

    No Secret

    I loved him then
    I love him now

    There is nothing
    before or beyond
    that does not beat
    with the rhythm
    of attending
    to the other
    the equally of
    exchanging,
    releasing,
    falling into
    and having out

    I loved him then
    I love him still
    and will until

    there is
    no breathing
    left to do

    ©Jane Penland Hoover
    February 23, 2008

  133. Lori says:

    I am not feeling well today (I mean typing on my laptop in bed sick), and so I am going to post a poem I wrote several years ago and actually like. :-) I will try and write a new one for this prompt at some point before the end of the month.

    I love the smell of burning candles
    as they flicker in the shadows,
    softly touching everyone with golden light.
    I love the taste of rain on my tongue
    and the pitter patter against
    the window as I dance.
    And the sound of romantic whispers
    as willows blow, surrounding me
    with intimacy.
    And the touch of warm, toasty blankets
    against my skin on a frosty night.
    And the sight of you.

  134. Jane Penland Hoover says:

    Puzzle

    He has read the paper
    Found her friend
    Remembers
    The name
    The interview on NPR
    But cannot say
    Precisely
    What he knows
    “Yesterday, cleaning, you,”
    His excitement offers her
    Guessing, she misses
    Again and again
    “Thursday, cleaning, you,”
    He repeats as if something’s new
    Like that their maid cleans Thursday
    “Paper, read,” he adds points
    The radio.
    She knows, remembers
    How she made him listen yesterday,
    “You read about Nancy
    Reading her book on cleaning
    And writing?”
    “Yes, ” and both smile.
    She’ll read the paper later
    Enough for now.

    ©Jane Penland Hoover
    April 20, 2008

  135. Corinne says:

    There is a centre in me that is
    yet untouched,
    even by me,
    waiting in quivering stillness, sensing
    your advancement
    towards me.

    I feel, already, you at
    your core,
    the shape of your spirit
    how you will penetrate,
    what promise there is
    in the divine communion
    of our merging.

    And I yearn for the
    work of love
    that is beholden to us
    when we meet.

    Until then, I shine it out
    in all directions, longing only
    to be fully given.

  136. Heather says:

    Sorry about the quotes on the title :(

  137. Heather says:

    “My Hummingbird”

    My hummingbird
    Cries
    Sips her nectar of wine

    She doesn’t understand
    Why her wings refuse
    To beat
    As they have before

    Her pace has slowed
    The wind is having its way
    Pushing her harder and harder
    Away

    My hummingbird
    Is pure delight
    Beautiful
    Delicate
    Bright

    I look for her
    But understand she’s not mine
    She belongs to the wind
    Which blows so hard her feathers
    Have turned to a faded gray

    She is unable to stay
    In my realm for long
    The price is too high to pay
    She fears the wind
    Especially on Sunday

    Love you, Hummingbird

  138. Linda S-W says:

    Cuore (Heart)

    Transfixed,
    I watch your hands
    transform this humble offering

    from the soil into something pure,
    lyrical, a shape so perfect
    it seems a miracle.

    Later, when the yielding clay
    ossifies to a leathered urn,
    I cradle this treasure with care

    and peer inside, looking for… what?
    I do not know.
    My eyes meet black eternity,

    empty hollow smelling of earth
    primordial, essence of you.
    Your heart, a vessel.

  139. A.C. Leming says:

    Ok, this is an old one from a decade ago…revised last? year. I will post one I wrote today. I’m just having problems getting my head around the prompt. a

    Koi

    My dog brought me another present
    this morning. She proves her love to me
    by braving her worst fear– by doing what she
    most hates — she fishes from my sister’s pond and
    lays upon my pillow the half-devoured remains of koi.

    She hates to get her feet wet, this hunting
    dog of mine. But for the last two weeks she has
    slowly emptied my sister’s pond of fish to reassure
    me that despite the upheaval and change I’ve brought
    upon us both, she still would rather be no where else but

    with me.

  140. Carla Cherry says:

    Love Is

    a waiting game

    first hurts
    second chances
    golden rings
    solemn
    sanctioned
    sanctified
    promises
    conception
    birthing pains
    sore nipples
    aching arms
    baby nestled
    in between
    tiny hands
    wrapped around fingers
    a safe haven
    that lingers.

  141. Bill T says:

    I stroke it
    I fondle it
    I tap it awake.
    Sometimes I tap it some more.
    Sometimes I tap it
    and stroke it
    and fondle it
    until daybreak.
    And at night
    it lights me up.
    I don’t feed it
    but it feeds my ego.
    I love you mouse
    what would I do without you?

  142. Kimberly K says:

    Hey, my first sonnet… i needed a good excuse. thanks robert

    Now sit and wait to hear your voice
    you come to me, to kiss my face
    I feel your touch, you make the choice
    to fill my heart and life with grace.
    For you alone leave me in peace
    I yearn for you both night and day
    my love for you will never cease
    yet you decide if we touch today
    But friends tell me I’ve lost my life
    I do not care because I know
    though they fear you cause me strife
    soon you’ll surrender and let love grow
    Each bud that blooms on this spring day
    Speaks of autumn bliss that can’t betray

  143. This one’s a little cheesy, but I don’t have anything to draw from at the moment and don’t particularly want to think back to when I did.

    Love Poem

    In your eyes lie the secrets
    of worlds I’ve never known
    and the cure for the chaos
    into which my life’s been thrown.
    There are no words sufficient
    to say just how much I adore.
    The love that you have shown me
    is all that I am living for.

  144. Love does not obey the brain
    instead refuses to stop no
    matter the reason and as a
    result I moved into an uncharted
    area and watched as my body
    now the director of my life
    proceeded to move me into
    your life until to be without
    you was visceral causing my
    stomach to feel empty as if
    your presence were my food.

    I feasted on you allowing my
    starved lips to savor every
    kiss and grabbed onto you
    each time more urgent as if
    I could blend into you and
    we would become one.

    I believed your love would
    cushion my world and we
    were immune to the dangers
    I’d seen befall so many others
    And we’ve traveled a long trail
    to this day along hospital
    corridors and in beds where
    you lay in delirium and
    grasped my hand completely
    unaware of my existence

    Believing all the time our love
    remained in a cocoon and would
    emerge and take wing like the
    delicate butterflies as they fly
    away each spring, I withstood
    your venomous tirades waiting
    for the tender words I once heard.

    You have hidden your love
    under a blanket of anger
    I cannot no longer find it
    though I search in your eyes
    and sometimes I can see the
    spark or feel it in the hand
    I grasp next to me on the
    pillow at night and I am
    back to that time when
    my body surrendered.

  145. Joe says:

    "Let’s Fall in Love All Over Again"

    Love me
    like a newlywed’s heart.
    Let words
    never tear us apart.
    Like fools
    who never stop what they start,
    Let’s fall in love all over again.

    Love is
    a silent embrace.
    It shows
    in your style and grace.
    Lord knows
    the right time and right place;
    Let’s fall in love all over again.

    Every day with you has been a blessing,
    our time together no one can erase.
    It’s not a sin for me to be confessing
    "there’s no one who could ever take your place".

    What more
    could I possibly say?
    I love you
    and that’s the way it’ll stay.
    And each time
    we greet a new day,
    we’ll fall in love all over again.

  146. Kateri Woody says:

    Thank you Rox. <3 Joker does have a soft side some days.

  147. ann malaspina says:

    "Lasting Love"

    The first red tulip.
    Even in this war-time spring
    the petals open.

  148. patti williams says:

    The Road

    The road we travel is long isn’t it.
    Sometimes it’s not even a road. At times it’s just space and emptiness.
    We don’t know where to go, or what to do while we’re there.

    But sometimes it is so straight, so narrow and true, it’s beautiful.
    Sometimes we are overwhelmed by the mountains, the water and music of our life.

    We pass the souls we miss. And sometimes we even watch them leave,
    Their trip now over, ours still winding around and around through the graves.

    How easy it is to sometimes sit by the road, even throw ourselves off the bridge nearby.
    How easy it is to hate the road. Then a reflection is seen, a detail not noticed before,
    And once again the trip seems worth while.

    In our life on the road, we walk, we run, sometimes fall.
    We sit, we laugh, and shamefully, we cry. We have cursed the road, kissed the road
    But still we follow the path the best we know how.

    Some of us are better travelers. Some of us have better direction.

    Some say you can tell a person by their shoes but that’s not it.
    You must watch their feet, where they go, how fast and how slow.

    You and I have done everything we know to make this trip worthwhile.
    I can hear the music in the background we have made
    And I miss the pieces we have torn out of the ground in our
    Hot terrible anger, but thankfully the road forgives. It still goes on, despite our failures.
    Our journey tells a tale of beautiful sunny days and harsh winter nights.
    Our road is littered with sharp hurtful glass we have used to cut our selves,
    As well as each other.
    The pieces lie scattered around the flowers we grow, so beautiful sparkling in the light.

    It’s not much, but it’s our road. Long, winding, sometimes treacherous, but again,
    It’s our road.

    Steady yourself traveler. It’s time for us to pick up our bags
    And march on ahead. We’re not even half way there yet and I see
    A new sunrise glowing up ahead. I know you love the way God paints our skies out here.

    Pick up your bags partner, all the bags we carry, let’s go, let’s go on and greet the day.
    We will know where to go because we just follow, we just walk along, one foot in front of the other, we keep going straight, headed up and down The Road.

  149. Michelle H. says:

    Eighteen years ago
    And I still feel the same

    The same?
    Okay that’s not quite true
    I love you even more today,
    Then when I was twenty-two.

    We’ve had a few wrinkles
    That needed to be ironed out
    Over time and one in particular
    Comes to my mind

    You’re always late
    And I’m chronically early.
    But I’ve learned a trick or two,
    If I say nine instead of nine-thirty
    A compromise can be reached
    We’re neither early nor late but
    Right on target, that is so great!

    Thank you for Saturday morning chores
    For no television on school nights
    For outdoor fun over indoor lounging
    For praise, laughter and the tickle monster!

    There is so much more
    That I could share
    But surely we don’t have the time.
    The sun is finally shining
    The kids are outside
    The puppies want to play
    Oh, what a glorious day!

    You are the sunshine on a dreary day
    My partner in all things and
    I love you more than you will ever know!

    Now, about that snoring…

    April 20, 2008
    © Michelle H.
    (Okay here is my "love" offering for today. It’s pretty rough but I have to admit I’m more interested in going outside to play than sitting at my computer writing poetry! I’m in Minnesota and it’s finally a nice day!!)

  150. patti williams says:

    Crazy Love
    For Jeff

    Remember our honeymoon?
    It was crazy love for sure.
    Then our kids were born
    And at the same time
    the work, the chores, the chaos
    of life heaped upon us.

    We fought. We fought it all,
    Each other, the bills, the past,
    We even managed to fight about the future.
    But it’s different now.
    The kids are growing into these
    Incredible beings,
    Our business is a bit more stable
    And through it all
    The two of us are still together
    Still making love
    Every now and then
    And not arguing so much.

    But do you remember our honeymoon?
    Our Crazy Love?
    I want to go back there again!

  151. Iain D. Kemp says:

    Loves Sweet Dream (part III)

    My letters come back unopened,
    my calls are not returned.
    But still my heart disguises
    the lesson I’ve not learnt.

    I hear you’ve found another,
    the hero of your dreams.
    While I’m left broken hearted
    with my chocolate and cream.

    But I shall soon recover
    and through the forest skip.
    When I ask Miss Cashew
    to be my Walnut Whip.

    For those of you not familiar with the Walnut whip its confectionary proof of a Divine Plan!

  152. Maureen says:

    I love your poem Teri.

    LOVE POEM

    I love poetry.
    I love the way lines
    spread across the page
    like a lover.
    I love stanzas -
    the horizon
    that marks the difference
    between thoughts.
    I love the way
    passionate poets
    kiss the air
    with their words
    at the café
    while I sip coffee
    and rejoice in my bliss.
    I love the way metaphors
    tickle my brain
    and similes
    soothe my mind.
    Even death
    cannot take you away
    for I live eternally
    in your words.

    Maureen Sexton

  153. Rox says:

    Kateri – that was spot on; I "loved" it!

  154. Iain D. Kemp says:

    Tonya, Thank you so much.

    Loves Sweet Dream (part II)

    Oh! Protein of my passion
    How, oh! How I dream
    To surround you in chocolate
    And cover you in cream.

    You’re still a bloody peanut
    I’m just off my head.
    I’m getting even worse
    Since I first took you to bed.

    An end to this affair, I say.
    Enough’s enough, I swear
    I’ll finish this forever now
    by eating you so there!

  155. Kateri Woody says:

    My Mistake

    Tentative touches cannot explain
    how much you’ve actually
    changed me.

    Long, light strokes down
    a make-up smeared cheek
    try to tell you that
    I care.

    Finger tips pressing lasciviously
    into firm thighs attempt
    to get you to realize
    that I do want you.

    It was a mistake to try and
    send you out of my life -
    to try and hide the fact
    that I do, love you.

    It’s too late for me to
    try and take that back;
    to un-tell you that I can’t
    have you, have these
    feelings.

    But I can try to win back
    your favor, your desire
    with the slightest whisper
    of a kiss on your painted mouth,
    promising much more than
    words ever could.

  156. Essa Bostone says:

    I am love
    I come to you
    Naked, vulnerable, raw
    Open with possibility
    Potential

    You see me
    Take me, use me
    Almost, but not all,
    Up

    Then, as if in a dream
    I continue
    My walk on earth
    Knowing full well
    I have fallen from heaven
    Forever perhaps

  157. Tonya Root says:

    Iain – You are brilliant! I am not in love is brilliant!

    Thanks!

  158. Iain D. Kemp says:

    I have been waiting for this prompt for this very reason, to share an old, (and my faourite) Love Poem. It is in three parts that should be broken up, so I’ll try and make sur other posts get in between. Just a bit of fun…

    Loves Sweet Dream (part I)

    Shall I compare thee
    to a Walnut Whip?
    That would be stupid
    You’re just a peanut!

  159. Rose Morand says:

    DAY 20 – LOVE POEM

    My friends tell me how lucky I am
    To be still in love with my husband
    Because so many loves stop

    It’s a billion things
    The smell of sawdust on your neck
    The crows feet at the corners of your eyes
    Your strong, brown arms
    And your nerd’s brain

    Your unquestioning acceptance
    Of all that I am
    Your patience
    Your steadfast presence
    Always with me
    Forever

    God, I’m lucky

  160. Susan M. Bell says:

    Rodney – Loved "A Little About Me." Reminds me of my husband and me, albeit just the opposite. I’m the one who’s always late, etc. He’s the neat one, dressy one, etc.

  161. A.C. Leming says:

    Damn, didn’t my ear one count?

  162. Michelle H. says:

    Rodney – I’m sure I shouldn’t have posted an old poem but it was exactly 20 years ago this month so I couldn’t resist. That’s why I promised to write a new one later today. You are so sweet. I’m sure your wife is as lucky as you are! – Michelle H.

  163. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    oh can we post poems we have written prior to the prompt that are love poems, I have many written for my wife.

  164. Tonya Root says:

    I’ve had a really whacky weekend, but I promise I’ll get all caught up today. Not just with my writing, but with all that reading. :-) I love reading everyone’s contributions!

  165. Michelle H. says:

    I wrote this 20 years ago for my future husband. It’s a bit corny but what can I say, I was young and in love. (He still has it framed in his office so I guess he liked it okay! ;-))

    Let me walk beside you
    and we will share our dreams.
    Leave me my time alone
    and you will be alone also.
    Lead me to foreign places
    and I will gladly follow.

    Offer me your hand
    and I will walk with you anywhere.
    Open your arms to let me in
    and I enter with no regrets,
    Once give me your life
    and I will share it with mine forever.

    Variate our lives
    and we shall have excitement.
    Voice the dreams we share
    and watch reality disappear.
    Visit my mind
    and learn the thoughts of my soul.

    Easily I grew to love you
    and since, life has become enchanted.
    Embrace my heart
    and feel the warmth of my love.
    Eternity can be ours through the clouds.

    April, 1988
    Michelle Krause (my maiden name)

    I will post a new poem later today.

  166. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    A Little About Me

    Lord knows how the woman puts up with me
    a more messed up man
    you will never see
    yet, she understands
    don’t ask me how
    she asked for a little time
    my usual response is “Not Now”
    acting as if, it’s a crime
    to want a hug
    Let’s not talk about messy
    thank god, we haven’t got bugs
    it would seem
    I have no idea of the term dressy
    as I usually dress like a bum on the street
    I oughta be hit upside the head
    with a wooden beam
    but, a nicer woman you will never meet

    Lord how does she tolerate
    everything’s a debate
    when she has an appointment
    I usually make her late
    though, she shows no disappointment
    she just accepts that I’m that way
    I know that one day
    my luck will run out
    she will wake up
    then figure what I’m really about
    a self – absorbed selfish lout
    but, luckily not this day
    so I’m safe
    at least for now, to remain this way. . .

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/20/08 Poetry Prompt #20, unfortunately all true. God bless her for putting up with me for fourteen years. Not sure how she does it. Funny part, she still loves me. Go figure.

  167. Iain D. Kemp says:

    I am not in love

    I am not in love with you
    For that would be reckless
    I am not in love with you for that
    Would be foolhardy

    You are to rich in heart
    And spirit, too beautiful
    For one as small as I to ever contain
    So I am not in love with you

    I am not in love with you
    Although I quiver at the sound of your voice
    And I cannot be in love with you although the sight
    Of you weakens my knees

    The distance now between us proves
    That I am not in love with you
    For surely if I were I could never
    Survive without you

    But yet I live. In a world of tears
    And cold empty rooms
    That are bereft of your sweet warmth
    No, I am not in love with you

    I am not in love with you
    Counting the minutes ‘til your return
    Checking the phone repeatedly for signal
    Waiting breathless, not in love

    I am not love with you
    The way you lift my heart to soaring heights
    With just a sigh and soft girl giggle
    I am not in love with you

    I am patient, waiting timelessly
    For you to know that you’re not in love with me
    Either and then in such endless bliss
    We can not be in love together

  168. After the Whole Day

    Let me feed you
    cheeses on a plate.
    Let me roll for you
    raviolis of gorgonzola,
    swirled in a cream sauce
    with walnuts, tarragon.
    See how the water simmers.
    See how the windows steam.
    Let me serve you a salad–
    frisee and pear,
    delicate curls of pecorino,
    a whisper of truffle oil.
    I have in my kitchen
    scallops to sear,
    chicken to roast,
    and a medley of roots
    tossed with oregano, balsamic,
    and then a little lemon tart.
    When you come home
    with the sound of the saw in your ears
    and mahogany dust in your hair,
    let me pour you a glass of Champagne,
    let me take your hands
    and lead you to the table you made.
    Let me feed you, fill you.

  169. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    Our Love

    Before we met
    something was missing
    a personal debt
    not just the hugging and kissing
    the fulfilment of being with someone
    who understands my every thought
    with few demands,
    with whom, I’d rarely fought
    someone who makes me feel
    better then I had ever thought

    How could I ever forget
    how we met
    a total accident
    only proving gods’ intent
    that we were meant
    for each other
    never once
    thinking of another

    Certainly our marriage
    has been bliss
    as each day begins to unfold
    I remember our first kiss
    you, I cannot wait to hold
    so that we can repeat history
    the funny thing,
    I don’t have to wonder,
    I know, you feel the same about me. . .

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/20/08 Prompt #20, once again about my wife. Way to easy Robert, I need
    more of a challenge brother.

    A second Poem about my wife, they are being written faster here then I can post them.

    Perfect, Well, We’ll See

    I am such a lucky man
    to have a wife that understands
    the person I tend to be
    is she perfect,
    far from it,
    but, she’s perfect for me. . .

    ©Rodney C. Walmer 4/20/08 Poetry Prompt #20 Robert, I got lucky with my wife, so this is a
    very easy prompt for me. Now, had this been my first wife, well it would have been a very
    difficult prompt. But, she’s another story. If you ever do a poem about (can I say this) “The
    cheating bitch from hell” I can do poems about her. For me, the second time was the charm.

  170. Rox says:

    Spark

    His countenance espied across the room;
    tall, dark-eyed, dark-haired, lithe
    but his expression – so controlled! so distant! –
    just another pleasant face in the crowd.

    Yet there is something.

    Stolen glimpses and vague curiosity
    slide between them all night.
    Until
    he makes one quiet, funny comment
    heard only by her,
    his glances become gazing
    across the long dining table,
    and he smiles for the first time
    as only she notices…

    She bursts out laughing
    unable to hold in her response,
    the sudden welling of emotion
    confusing everyone but him.
    Their souls tingle with sudden relief
    reach across the crowded room
    flickering into Love at finding one another.

  171. Love Song

    I am like a child
    with her face
    pressed to the glass,
    longing to be your lover,

    to kiss your soft lips,
    feel your breasts against mine,
    breath into your ear,
    inhale the sweet scent of you,

    to feel the silk of your skin
    against mine. I yearn to
    feel your arms around me
    as I drift off to sleep,

    to wake with the warmth
    of your breath against
    the back of my neck,
    the two of us together.

  172. Susan M. Bell says:

    I know several poets who hate love poems and don’t consider them "real" poetry. I’m just the opposite. What is life without love? What is poetry without love? I’m looking forward to reading the posts for this one, and to writing some new love poetry of my own. Thanks Robert.

  173. Don Swearingen says:

    The Truth Comes Out!

    Thought he killed me, in his rage.
    Claws around my neck enclosing.
    Forehead purple, popping eyes,
    I tell you, he was real imposing.
    He was silly, most of the time
    But some of the things he did, they thrilled me.
    But in the end that fool sublime,
    Thought he killed me.

  174. Matthew Abel says:

    Love

    Love is forgiving
    Love is blind
    and good.
    It is what I feel
    As I look at you
    As we sit together
    and enjoy
    each other’s
    company.

  175. Rodney C. Walmer says:

    I feel like I am cheating again, I have the worlds most wonderful wife, this was too easy.

    Love of My Life

    She’s always been there for me
    though, I’m not sure why
    perhaps she does not see
    my imperfect side

    No matter what I do
    she’s got my back
    something I never knew
    that my life had lacked

    Even after fourteen years
    way too many a fight
    certainly more tears
    than anyone has the right
    She’s still there
    each and every night
    showing me she does care
    making me believe
    everything will be alright

    Over the years
    our love has only grown
    while others given into fears
    seeking the freedom
    of the unknown
    we have stayed together
    happily, in our married bliss
    sun or stormy weather
    we still hold hands
    while walking down the street
    sometimes stopping for a kiss
    or a peck on the cheek
    sure we act like newlyweds
    while others love lives’ are dead
    perhaps the love we have
    is what others seek. . .

    © Rodney C. Walmer Prompt 4/20/08 #10 a love poem, easy with my wife.

  176. M J Dills says:

    I speak to you of love
    My bounty
    As Shakespeare said
    As boundless as the sea
    Not life
    Nor hate
    Can change the way I feel
    Not death
    Nor voices who wish to
    Deliver ill will
    I speak to you of love
    My love
    As deep as the core
    Of the entire universe
    No other love
    Like my love
    Untainted
    Pure
    Stubborn
    And
    Not to be menaced
    Bothered
    Or disturbed
    Undying
    Endless
    Countless
    I speak to you of love
    My love
    Your love
    God love
    Unmoved
    Solid and constant
    Unwavering
    Unconditional
    Endless
    And all the flowers on the hill
    Bow to you
    Reverent
    To see you pass by
    You
    The loved
    Chaste
    Innocent
    My love

  177. Teri Coyne says:

    Helping Hands

    It would be better to think
    you were made for me
    a custom order
    handcrafted to please
    those hands that have held babies
    carried groceries
    and tarped roofs
    were just praciting
    for that day in the yard
    when you reached out
    to steady me
    and keep me from falling

  178. Connie says:

    Recovery

    Sitting here on the couch
    Weak
    My head propped by a pillow
    Faint
    Barely able to breathe
    You’re late
    Will you pass me by tonight?
    Too busy?
    I resign myself to not see you.
    But then
    I hear something out on the street
    Is it?
    I hear steps crunch the gravel
    Closer
    My blood starts pumping again
    Doorbell
    I leap up as my strength returns
    Come in!

  179. My attempt for today, I am not in a poetry writing mood.

    My Love

    My love
    I wait for you to come
    to me,
    to hold me close to thee…

    I wait for you till
    the sun sets,
    I wait for you
    with no regrets…

    I wait for you in the
    stillness of the quite,
    in the darkness of the
    night…

    I wait for you with
    my last breath,
    I wait for you in
    death…

  180. tammy says:

    You were right — definitely my favorite poem you’ve written all month. The windows are open and I’m listening to the birds and wind chimes. And I’m smiling so big.

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