Love Poem Quotes Page 2

I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints,-I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!-and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

I loved my friendHe went away from meThere's nothing more to sayThe poem ends soft as it began -I loved my friend.

i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows

I'm not lookin' for someone who can save me.

Life rafts might keep you afloat but they rarely get you anywhere and I've got places I wanna go. So break me in two, peel back my rib cage and cover every page of my heart with love poems you will burn someday.

A mother's love is like an island, In life's ocean vast and wide, A peaceful, quiet shelter, From the restless, rising tide.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

But in reading great literature I become a thousand men and yet remain myself.

Like the night sky in the Greek poem, I see with a myriad eyes, but it is still I who see. Here, as in worship, in love, in moral action, and in knowing, I transcend myself; and am never more myself than when I do.

In the Heaven's above, the angels, whispering to one another, can find, among their burning terms of love, none so devotional as that of 'Mother.

Even though we've written epic poems and made incredible films about love, I still don't think anyone can understand what it is, or why it means everything.

When I have worries, fears or a love affair, I have the luck of being able to transform it into a poem.

To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you

I write poems about relationships, love relationships, and I'm not able to do that all the time. I could go two years without writing poems, and then write a dozen. Having a novel to work on, with the intricate puzzle of character and plot to work out, is satisfying for the time there is no poetry.

Have it compose a poem -- a poem about a haircut! But lofty, noble, tragic, timeless, full of love, treachery, retribution, quiet heroism in the face of certain doom! Six lines, cleverly rhymed, and every word beginning with the letter s!

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date . . .

“A living poem” had always been the words that came to mind when he tried to describe her to others.

I'm lucky enough to occasionally be able to do something I love - write poems - and unlucky enough that what I love confuses and overwhelms me.

The poem is always the last resort. In it the poet makes a world in little, and finds peace, even though, under complete focused emotion, the evocation be far more bitter than reality, or far more lovely.

Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away into the next room.

She was sitting cross-legged on her bed in her white kimono, writing in a notebook with an ink pen she dipped in a bottle. 'Never let a man stay the night,' she told me. 'Dawn has a way of casting a pall on any night magic.' The night magic sounded lovely. Someday I would have lovers and write a poem after.

What I love about drafts is the experimental nature of them.

The draft is what you know about writing a poem running up against what you don't know about the subject. If you're lucky, you get to surprise yourself.

The makers of fortunes have a second love of money as a creation of their own, resembling the affection of authors for their own poems, or of parents for their children, besides that natural love of it for the sake of use and profit.

You never forget the books you loved as a kid.

You never forget the poems you memorized, the first book you read until the cover fell off, the book you read hidden from your mother. What an honor to hold hands with a child's imagination in this way.

Poems On Love Love adorns itself; it seeks to prove inward joy by outward beauty. Love does not claim possession, but gives freedom. Love is an endless mystery, for it has nothing else to explain it. Love's gift cannot be given, it waits to be accepted.

More or Less Love Poems #11: No babe We'd never Swing together but the syncopation would be something wild

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)

In working on a poem, I love to revise.

Lots of younger poets don't enjoy this, but in the process of revision I discover things

He who thanks but with the lips. Thanks but in part; the full, the true Thanksgiving. Comes from the heart.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

These are the poems of a traveler and a lover who feels both the terror of time passing and the consolation of eternity. From such tension spring lovely poetic objects, ready for intelligent use.

Peter Conners stunning prose poems are packed with keen sensitivity, dreaminess, and wit. I love his time travels, the vibrant layering of image and detail. Try taking walks as you are reading this book- the dazzle of landscapes, inner and outer, feel replenished and rich. This is language and vision I want to come home to again and again.

I love rhymes; I love to write a poem about New York and rhyme 'oysters' with 'The Cloisters.' And 'The lady from Knoxville who bought her brassieres by the boxful.' I just feel a sort of small triumph.

I love thee to the level of everyday's most quiet need, by sun and candle light.

..I love thee with the breath,smiles,t ears,of all my life.

Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land, God Bless the U.S.A.