Before you met me
you seemed so cool and carefree …
and a bit badass.
Tag: love poetry
Love haiku
Before I met you
I thought I was so darned cool.
Clueless, more like it.
Love Haiku
Your grandmother said,
“You want to find a good man?
Go to church, honey.”
Love Haiku
May it never be!
That I fail to remember
the gift of your love.
Love Haiku
I may be away,
but my thoughts lie down with you,
my beloved one.
Flower Time
Flower Time
I saw you first in jonquil time,
When you were bathed in grace.
You sat aglow with fire sublime,
And golden shone your face.
I loved you first in lilac time.
A bloom I plucked for you.
I wrote you verse with song and rhyme.
I hoped you loved me too.
I kissed you first in tulip time,
It must have been a sign.
The buds and we were in our prime
When your two lips met mine.
I married you in daisy time
On summer’s longest day.
We traded rings and heard bells chime.
We pledged always to stay.
Too soon we’ve come to aster time.
The days are shorter now.
Would stealing some be such a crime?
We’ll make it right somehow.
Should we endure ’til wintertime,
The time when flowers sleep,
Dreams we’ll share of a gentler clime
Where we no more shall weep.
Because the world needs more love poetry
LUMBERJACK LOVE
Though I am not a hirsute man nor burly,
I love you with a lumberjack-type love.
The only axe I take in hand securely,
This meager pen across the page I shove.
Please treat me not so fickle nor so surly,
Don’t shield your limbs below nor lips above.
I aim to fell you skillfully and purely;
Each word’s to chip the bark around your love.
More poetry for fall
FALLING LEAVES LIKE LOVERS
The leaves, the leaves are gone except the oak,
Which cling to trees and rattle needlessly.
The others flame and fall for all to see.
They streak and sizzle, leaving only smoke.
But oak leaves hang as by some unseen yoke,
All browned and curled awaiting sympathy,
Or sap to course and lend vitality —
The leaves cannot perceive the sorry joke.
For spring will end the lie and they will drop,
To drift and rot and turn in time to dust.
As sure as buds will burst to make a crop
Of new, the old will flutter down — they must.
The falling leaves like lovers never stop.
It’s hardly gentle, but ’tis just, ’tis just.
Late Summer’s Sun
Late Summer’s Sun
Late summer’s sun has baked the grass to brown.
The days grow shorter with each passing day,
Soon, autumn’s chill will make the leaves fall down.
All of this aching beauty will decay.
And yet I love the shadows’ slanting trace,
The once green grain gone golden in its rows,
And how I love the lines etched in your face.
It’s funny, as love ripens how it grows.
The number of our days we do not know.
No sleeper knows if he will ever wake.
So come, let’s join above, between, below.
My dear, let’s cause our fragile clay to quake.
Let us make love as if it’s our last go.
Let us embrace like dawn will never break.
Independence Day Love Poem
The Fourth of July has special meaning for me.
Of course, it represents the founding of the my country, which has been a remarkable blessing to he world. Although America has not always lived up to its ideals, those ideals make it unique among nations.
And those ideals have made it a magnet for untold millions who seek freedom and opportunity.
I still get a little lump in my throat and a tear in my eye when I hear the national anthem or “America the Beautiful.”
But, for me, the Fourth holds personal significance. That’s because it marks the anniversary of my certainty that I had found the love of my life.
It goes back many, many years ago to a particular Fourth of July night in Minneapolis.
INDEPENDENCE DAY
The wind and you played in my hair,
You lambent in the moon,
The night arranged as by design,
Mysteriously boon.
Afresh the breeze and warm our hands,
So lately introduced,
Traced so gently new found lands,
From tyranny aloosed.
While all around with fire and bang
Our freedom was proclaimed,
A nation’s liberty was meant,
To us, two hearts unchained.
Poetic Champions 