Last Commented Romance Poems (1,693)

Nocturnally

Rise up my love and come away
And then my beloved spoke to me,
Rise up my darling onto this day
And journey where no mortal can see.

Be still my heart,it is not a dream,
For her petals have touched my lips
So that I know what it may seem
Is the dream her soul does eclipse.

Fly high my sweet,where angels dwell,
My love is yours eternally,
And though death,our souls it does dispel,
We will meet in dreams nocturnally.
G W M/ 22 Jan, 2014

Lay down up on me girl make me feel deep inside your soul.the morning is dark and our hearts are on fire.press you're lips to mine and take me across the life.save me from my own dreams as we caress and take our time.lay down up on me girl feel my skin as we join as one in an intimate spire.touch my soul feel my heart and take flight.lay down up on me girl together lets fly.

Our First Christmas

Lying in bed caught between slumber and silence, fresh white linen and oversized pillows. I remember today is Thursday. My new husband will be home for the next four days. I can't wait. I haven't seen Michael for almost two weeks. I've missed him so much.

I think of the last time we were together. I still can't believe it, still doubt it and still cherish it. We spent the day looking for antiques. In particular I was looking for an ink well for an old school desk he bought me for my birthday. Finally, we found one in a store that was just about to close. I charmed the old shop keeper into letting us take a quick look around. Michael whispered, “I love watching you flirt with old men, making them feel good about themselves. Reminding them of a time when the world was their oyster.” I found that ink well and sure enough he dug out a set of pens still in their original boxes from a school supply company in Flint Michigan dated Sept/41.

At the counter I noticed a mason jar with the lid nearly rusted on. It was full of black and white glass marbles. They were a little larger than usual. The shop keeper told us,“that they were used for casting votes in various social clubs like the Elks or the Masons and that members cast a white marble for yes and a black marble for no when considering prospective members. One too many black balls and you were out, hence the term black balled.” I loved the story and had to have the jar full of marbles, and of course he gave them to me for free.

I was so thrilled and as always Michael was always amazed at where I often found joy, In a jar of marbles, an ink well, a used coat. It sometimes seems like the world is my thrift shop, every piece has a story, a lover, a name, a home. I seem to find value in it
all.

The ride back to the city was too long. We decided to stop and visit some old friends, but first we stopped and picked up a bottle of Frangelica and some flowers. Michael started to tell me

That “yes I know, you have told me a hundred times,” it means 'the tears of angels’ and it was made by Franciscan Monks a thousand years ago. I still love the story.

We ended up at McMannus Bed and Breakfast. The Amish family, that built our potting shed at the cottage. I had brought some cloth for a quilt Sarah had been working on and of course Michael had stashed a flask of whiskey to give to Whilhem.

Dinner was great and as a rule bed came early we both loved reading by oil lantern. Michael knew I was excited to write in my journal with my new ink pens and decided to take a long bath and give me some extra time with my new found treasure. He read nearly 3
chapters of John Irving's 'A prayer for Owen Meeny.’ when he finished he expected to find me working away at the shaker desk.

Her Beauty shines
Like the sun that shines
Glowing over the earth
Showing everyone how great,
How amazing she is, and how lovely her beauty shines
The sun that glimmers off the sea
Reflecting its glorious light.
As it sinks beneath the sea
And awaits to start a new day
Just as she gets ready for the night
Looking as beautiful as ever
And sinks into a deep sleep
Awaiting for a new day
To share her beauty to the world once again

She is like a Rose
A single Rose in a valley flourishing with flowers
Majestically surrounding the luscious Rose
That blossoms every morning with immense beauty
Shining gorgeously, always with passion
With the sun gleaming beautifully from the morning dew
Giving beauty to the valley,
As the Rose is bursting gloriously from the valley meadow
And showing its amazing beauty to the world.

created5/11/2014

A parting thought
Dont worry baby, its just a 1 time thing.
Don't worry girl theres no diamond ring.
?Well come on now don't let it burn or sting.
Well please listen baby, it's just a 1 time thing.

We just need to see it right,
its not a perilious flight,
no reason to fuss or fight.
Please girl, just try and see it right.

Im trying as honest as I can
Im not saying I know the plan.
You must please just trust me, try hard to understand
Im being as honest, as I always am.

There can only be, one very last time.
No matter how you try and make it rhyme.
The last kiss, the last good bye.

Don't worry now girl , its a One time thing
There just isn't a shiny ring.
Well baby come on now help me sing
Or listen to me please, its a 1 time thing

My life is a poem without an ending, but it will end in perfection with you by my side....

I'm nobody ! Who are you ?
Are you nobody , too ?
Then there's a pair of us -- don't tell !
They'd banish us , you know.


How dreary to be somebody !
How public , like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog !




croak-croak ; )

A Clearer Image
As my dream looses frame and my consciousness starts to unfold; I gradually see her image clearer and much to my surprise she is not a picture of perfection, however she has an air of honesty and eloquence yet to be revealed... She is soft, with a tender touch, yet mature and strong in so many other ways I could never explain. She understands that she was created for me to love and protect and therefore the vessel that allows my purpose to be fulfilled.

She has history, I have history, we have history and we will make history. We have felt pain and crave real love from each other. I can see her alumnus beauty and I will refuse to be awakened. I want to be a follower of her perfection filled with the spirit of being who she is.

My heart is filled with awe and humility just being in her presence.
I'm exhumed by her being, her invigorating light.

Our blended hearts will exercise new perfections embracing unconditional love and acceptance. Seen or unseen our necked souls long for wholeness. Should I be awakened or should I retreat into a deeper sleep?

I'm searching for an earthly being who would appreciate a space cadet. Sometimes I suffer from loneliness, just to have someone aboard my ship. I’m still looking to explore this thing called sex that all the earthly beings talks so much about. I’m told sex is better enjoyed if shared with others than doing it alone. I guess I’ll find out when the time comes or when the time is right. I’ve been waiting such a long time, but I’m sure it will be worth the wait according to all my friends. My closest connection with mankind over the years has been purely through the written word via internet or spoken by phone, still hoping to change that, but growing old with failed attempts. Looking for that special earthly being who understands that tuna that looks good doesn’t always taste good, yet willing to test the flavor of a chance not taken. The path less traveled might be the best journey; to explore it is to win to ignore it is loose. ….