love poems
Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
Every Other Freckle
Every other freckle I always thought beauty was skin deep but the most beauty we'll ever see is in our sleep From vast teal seas, to indigo skies, when the sunsets and rise. Every other freckle have you ever had someone showed you you're special? Well if I may plant your rose in fresh soil water your stems with the finest quality waters from a mountain top make you smile unreasonably so you don't get to much sunlight and place you in the most beautiful vase If I may visit your beaches and watch your night skies build mansions in your sands and run my fingers through your cool waves Every other freckle is important The little smile that comes across your face when you bat your eyes when you laugh out loud when you get mad and pout, but mostly when you breakdown and cry I catch your silver tears and water your rose because your humble but god won't let you stumble So every other freckle matters your important so when you stand tall and feel small your voice is loud silence does have a sound and you make me proud even though IDK you from a can of paint glad you opened your mind so I can paint joyous days passionate nights clear skies meaningful conversations no hesitations and days when your home I make it feel like a vacation So every other freckle you are special good morning and have a blessed day Every Other Freckle.
By Michael Smalls8 years ago in Poets
Tongue-Tied
You seem to have a way with the words that you speak, melodic and harmonious with every other symphonic confession of your love,whispered gently into my ear, sending shivers down my spine, and leaving me speechless and tongue-tied.I have so much more to exclaim than I ever truly did admit. Words can only begin to form in my chest before they are swallowed and repressed because I got so used to every sweet flower I grew being plucked from its rootsthat I can no longer force them up the back of my throat. I’ve apologized a thousand times that the only words that I can use to appreciate you have to be written, rehearsed, and perfected, while you seem to have a way with the words that you speak, melodic and harmonious with each passionate confession of your love, shouted on rooftops, sending shivers down my spine, leaving me speechless and tongue-tied.
By Sharon J Sanford8 years ago in Poets
Knowing
If you were a door, you would stand tall and pale. You would lead to a wondrous garden of triumph, laughter, beauty masking quiet suffering. Your roses would stand straight and bloom beneath the glowing sun, and they would not be guarded by vines nor thorns because you know no protection.
By Sharon J Sanford8 years ago in Poets
