Short Love Poems for Her
“The Two Times I Loved You the Most In a Car” by Dorothea GrossmanIt was your ideato park and watch the elephantsswaying among the treeslike royaltyat that make-believe safarinear Laguna.I didn’t know anything that bigcould be so quiet.And once, you stoppedon a dark desert roadto show me the starsclimbing over each otherRiotouslylike insectslike an orchestrathrashing its waythrough time itselfI never saw light that wayagain.
From “Married Love" by Guan DaoshengYou and IHave so much love,That itBurns like a fire,In which we bake a lump of clayMolded into a figure of youAnd a figure of me.Then we take both of them,And break them into pieces,And mix the pieces with water,And mold again a figure of you,And a figure of me.I am in your clay.In life we share a single quilt.In death we will share a single coffin.
From “To You” by Kenneth KochI love you as a sheriff searches for a walnutThat will solve a murder case unsolved for yearsBecause the murderer left it in the snow beside a windowThrough which he saw her head, connecting withHer shoulders by a neck, and laid a redRoof in her heart.
From “Having a Coke With You” by Frank O’HaraI lookat you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the worldexcept possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it’s in the Frickwhich thank heavens you haven’t gone to yet so we can go together for the first timeand the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurismjust as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase orat a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me.
“Love Poem: Centaur” by Donika KellyNothing approaches a field like me. Hardgallop, hard chest – hooves and mane and flickingtail. My love: I apprehend each flower,each winged body, saturated in a lightthat burnishes. I would make a burnishingof you, by which I mean a field in flower,by which i mean, a breaching – my handsmaking an arrow of themselves, rootingthe loosened dirt. I would make for youthe barest of sounds, wing against wing,there, at the point of articulation. Love,I pound the earth for you. I pound the earth.
From Sappho’s fragmentsAs a wind in the mountainsassaults an oak,Love shook my breast.
“Love Poem” by Dorothea GrossmanIn a lightning boltof memory,I see our statue of Buddha(a wedding gift from Uncle Gene)which always saton top of the speaker cabinet.When a visitor asked,“So, does Buddha like jazz?”you said, “I hope so.He’s been getting it up the a**for a long time.”
Short Love Poems for Him
“Close Your Eyes” by Elizabeth SmithClose your eyes and think of meClose your eyes and try to seeOur hearts together and what could beOur love forever as destiny.
“When You Come” by Maya AngelouWhen you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie.Offering me, as to a child, an attic, Gatherings of days too few. Baubles of stolen kisses. Trinkets of borrowed loves. Trunks of secret words, I cry.
“Wild Nights –Wild Nights” by Emily DickinsonWild Nights – Wild Nights!Were I with theeWild Nights should beOur luxury!Futile – the Winds –To a Heart in port –Done with the Compass –Done with the Chart!Rowing in Eden –Ah – the Sea!Might I but moor – Tonight –In Thee!
“For him” by Rupi KaurNo,it won’tbe love atfirst sight whenwe meet it’ll be loveat first remembrance‘cause i’ve recognized youin my mother’s eyeswhen she tells me,marry the type of man you’d want to raise your son to be like.
From “Habitation” by Margaret Atwoodat the back where we squatoutside, eating popcornthe edge of the receding glacierwhere painfully and with wonderat having survived eventhis farwe are learning to make fire.
From “State Bird’ by Ada LimonBut, love, I’ll concede this:whatever state you are, I’ll be that state’s bird,the loud, obvious blur of song people point towhen they wonder where it is you’ve gone.
From Sappho’s fragmentsI was so happyBelieve me, Iprayed that thatnight might bedoubled for us.
From “March” by Mary OliverSomething touched, me lightly, like a knife-blade. I felt I was bleeding, though just a little, a hint. Inside I flared hot, then cold. I thought of you.Whom I love madly.
Short Poems About Love Lost
“Separation” By W. S. MerwinYour absence has gone through meLike thread through a needle.Everything I do is stitched with its color.
Haiku By BashōHas it returned,the snowwe viewed together?
“The Kiss” by Sara TeasdaleI hoped that he would love me, And he has kissed my mouth, But I am like a stricken bird That cannot reach the south. For though I know he loves me, Tonight my heart is sad; His kiss was not so wonderful As all the dreams I had.
“I have to tell you” by Dorothea GrossmanI have to tell you,there are times whenthe sun strikes melike a gong,and I remember everything,even your ears.
From “Unspeakable” by Sharon OldsI want to say to him, now, Whatwas it like to love me—when you looked at me,what did you see? When he loved me, I lookedout at the world as if from insidea profound dwelling, like a burrow, or a well, I’d gazeup, at noon, and see Orionshining—when I thought he loved me, when I thoughtwe were joined not just for breath’s time,but for the long continuance,the hard candies of femur and stone,the fastness.
“It is not so much that I miss you” by Dorothea GrossmanIt is not so much that I miss youas the rememberingwhich I suppose is a form of missingexcept more positive,like the time of the blackoutwhen fear was my first responsefollowed by love of the dark.
“Heart! We will forget him!” by Emily DickinsonHeart! We will forget him!You and I – tonight!You may forget the warmth he gave –I will forget the light!When you have done, pray tell meThat I may straight begin!Haste! lest while you’re laggingI remember him!
From “You Who Never Arrived” by Rainer Maria RilkeYou who never arrivedin my arms, Beloved,who were lostfrom the start,I don’t even know what songswould please you.I have given up tryingto recognize youin the surging wave of the nextmoment.
From "Poem to First Love" by Matthew YeagerTo have been told “I love you” by you could well be, for me,the highlight of my life, the best feeling, the best peakon my feeling graph, in the way that the Chrysler buildingmight not be the tallest building in the NY sky but isthe best, the most exquisite spired, or the way that Hank Aaron’s career home-run total is not the highestbut the best, the one that signifies the purest greatness.So improbable!
From Sappho’s fragments It’s no useMother dear, Ican’t finish myweavingYou mayblame Aphroditesoft as she isshe has almostkilled me with love for that boy.
From “Feared Drowned” by Sharon OldsComing closer,[the man] turns outto be you – or nearly.Once you lose someone it is never exactlythe same person who comes back.
From “Regret” by Troy JollimoreI’d like to take back my not saying to youthose things that, out of politeness, or caution,I kept to myself. And, if I maythough this might perhaps stretch the rules Id liketo take back your not saying some of the thingsthat you never said, like I love you and Wont youcome home with me, or telling me, whichyou in fact never did, perhaps in the newlyrefurbished café at the Vancouver ArtGallery as fresh drops of the downpour from whichwed sought shelter glinted in your hair like jewels,or windshields of cars as seen from a planethat has just taken off or is just coming infor a landing, when the sun is at just the right angle,that try as you might, you could not imaginea life without me.
From “Frida Kahlo to Marty McConnell” by Marty McConnellyou loved a manwith more hands than a paradeof beggars, and here you stand. heartlike a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas.heart leaking something so strongthey can smell it in the street.
From “Ashes of Life” by Edna St. Vincent MillayLove has gone and left me and the days are all alike;Eat I must, and sleep I will,—and would that night were here!But ah!—to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike!Would that it were day again!—with twilight near!Love has gone and left me and I don’t know what to do;This or that or what you will is all the same to me;But all the things that I begin I leave before I’m through,—There’s little use in anything as far as I can see.
From “If You Forget Me” by Pablo NerudaYou know how this is:if I lookat the crystal moon, at the red branchof the slow autumn at my window,if I touchnear the firethe impalpable ashor the wrinkled body of the log,everything carries me to you,as if everything that exists,aromas, light, metals,were little boatsthat sailtoward those isles of yours that wait for me.Well, now,if little by little you stop loving me,I shall stop loving you little by little.
From “Time does not bring relief; you all have lied” By Edna St. Vincent MillayTime does not bring relief; you all have liedWho told me time would ease me of my pain!I miss him in the weeping of the rain;I want him at the shrinking of the tide.
From "Love is a fire that burns unseen" by Luís Vaz de CamõesLove is a fire that burns unseen,a wound that aches yet isn’t felt,an always discontent contentment,a pain that rages without hurting.
From "[love is more thicker than forget]" by e.e. cummingslove is more thicker than forgetmore thinner than recallmore seldom than a wave is wetmore frequent than to fail.
“Flirtation” by Rita DoveAfter all, there’s no needto say anythingat first. An orange, peeledand quartered, flareslike a tulip on a wedgewood plateAnything can happen.Outside the sunhas rolled up her rugsand night strewn saltacross the sky. My heartis humming a tuneI haven’t heard in years!Quiet’s cool flesh—let’s sniff and eat it.There are waysto make of the momenta topiaryso the pleasure’s inwalking through.
From “Before You Came” by Faiz Ahmed FaizThe sky is a shirt wet with tears,the road a vein about to break,and the glass of wine a mirror in whichthe sky, the road world keep changing.Don’t leave now that you’re here—Stay. So the world may become like itself again:so the sky may be the sky,the road a road,and the glass of wine not a mirror, just a glass of wine.
“A Pity, We Were Such a Good Invention” By Yehuda AmichaiThey amputatedYour thighs off my hips.As far as I'm concernedThey are all surgeons. All of them.They dismantle usEach from the other.As far as I'm concernedThey are all engineers. All of them.A pity. We were such a goodAnd loving invention.An aeroplane made from a man and wife.Wings and everything.We hovered a little above the earth.We even flew a little.
Deep Love Poems
From “Meditation at Lagunitas” by Robert HassThere was a womanI made love to and I remembered how, holdingher small shoulders in my hands sometimes,I felt a violent wonder at her presencelike a thirst for salt, for my childhood riverwith its island willows, silly music from the pleasure boat,muddy places where we caught the little orange-silver fishcalled pumpkinseed. It hardly had to do with her.Longing, we say, because desire is fullof endless distances. I must have been the same to her.
From “A Pretty Song” by Mary OliverFrom the complications of loving you I think there is no end or return. No answer, no coming out of it.Which is the only way to love, isn’t it?This isn’t a playground, this isearth, our heaven, for a while.
“What I Didn’t Know Before” by Ada Limonwas how horses simply give birth to otherhorses. Not a baby by any means, nota creature of liminal spaces, but alreadya four-legged beast hellbent on walking,scrambling after the mother. A horse gives wayto another horse and then suddenly there aretwo horses, just like that. That’s how I loved you.You, off the long train from Red Bank carryinga coffee as big as your arm, a bag with twocomputers swinging in it unwieldily at yourside. I remember we broke into laughterwhen we saw each other. What was betweenus wasn’t a fragile thing to be coddled, cooedover. It came out fully formed, ready to run.
From “Love at First Sight” by They’re both convincedthat a sudden passion joined them.Such certainty is beautiful,but uncertainty is more beautiful still.Since they’d never met before, they’re surethat there’d been nothing between them.But what’s the word from the streets, staircases, hallways—perhaps they’ve passed by each other a million times?
From “First Kiss” By Kim Addoniziono, this was the crowningmoment, this giving of herself, knowingshe could show me how helplessshe was—that’s what I saw, that night when youpulled your mouth from mine andleaned back against a chain-link fence,in front of a burned-out church: a manwho was going to be that vulnerable,that easy and impossible to hurt.
From “You Are the Penultimate Love of My Life” By Rebecca HazeltonI want to spend a lot but not all of my years with you.We’ll talk about kidsbut make plans to travel.I will remember your eyesas green when they were gray.Our dogs will be named For Now and Mostly.Sex will be good but next door’s will sound better.There will be small things.I will pick up your damp towel from the bed,and then I won’t.I won’t be as hot as I waswhen I wasn’t yours.
“Morning Love Poem” by Tara SkurtuDreamt last night I fed you, unknowingly,something you were allergic to.And you were gone, like that.You don’t have even a single allergy, but still. The dream cracked. Cars nosedivedoff snow banks into side streets. Sometimes dreams slip poison, make the livingdead then alive again, twirling in an unfamiliar room.It’s hard to say I need you enough.Today I did. Walked into your morning shower fully clothed. All the momentswe stop ourselves just because we might feel embarrassed or impractical, or get wet.
From “Love Elegy in the Chinese Garden, with Koi” by Nathan McClainI missed what it was to be so dumbas those koi. I like to think they’re pure,that that’s why even after the boy’s palms were empty,after he had nothing else to give, they still kissedhis hands. Because who hasn’t done that—loved so intently even after everythinghas gone? Loved something that has washedits hands of you? I like to think I’m different now,that I’m enlightened somehow,but who am I kidding? I know I’m like those koi,still, with their popping mouths, that would kissthose hands again if given the chance. So dumb.
From "I think I should have loved you presently" by Edna St. Vincent MillayI think I should have loved you presently, And given in earnest words I flung in jest;And lifted honest eyes for you to see,And caught your hand against my cheek and breast;And all my pretty follies flung asideThat won you to me, and beneath you gaze.
From “Try to Praise the Mutilated World” by Adam ZagajewskiYou should praise the mutilated world.Remember the moments when we were togetherin a white room and the curtain fluttered.Return in thought to the concert where music flared.You gathered acorns in the park in autumnand leaves eddied over the earth's scars.
From “We Have Not Long to Love” By Tennessee WilliamsWe have not long to love.Light does not stay.The tender things are thosewe fold away.Coarse fabrics are the onesfor common wear.In silence I have watched youcomb your hair.Intimate the silence,dim and warm.I could but did not, reachto touch your arm.I could, but do not, breakthat which is still.
Sweet Love Poems
From “A Red, Red Rose” By Robert BurnsO my Luve is like a red, red roseThat’s newly sprung in June;O my Luve is like the melodyThat’s sweetly played in tune.So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,So deep in luve am I;And I will luve thee still, my dear,Till a’ the seas gang dry.
From “Sonnet 43” by Elizabeth Barrett BrowningHow do I love thee? Let me count the ways.I love thee to the depth and breadth and heightMy soul can reach, when feeling out of sightFor the ends of being and ideal grace.I love thee to the level of every day’sMost quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
From “Filling Spice Jars as Your Wife” by Kai CogginI have all my doors and windows open to youand you have come all the way inside,sat down at the table of my deepest desiresand lit a fire to warm us both,the wind blowing through the house,the rain gently giving wayto turmeric sunriseand you, darling.
From “To My Dear and Loving Husband” by Anne BradstreetIf ever two were one, then surely we.If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.If ever wife was happy in a man,Compare with me, ye women, if you can.I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
“i love you to the moon &” by Chen Chennot back, let’s not come back, let’s go by the speed ofqueer zest & stay upthere & get ourselves a littlemoon cottage (so pretty), then start a moon gardenwith lots of moon veggies (so healthy), i meani was already moonlightingas an online moonologistmost weekends, so this is the immenselylogical next step, are youpacking your bags yet, don’t forget yoursailor moon jean jacket, let’s wearour sailor moon jean jackets while twirling in that lighter,queerer moon gravity, let’s love each other(so good) on the moon, let’s lovethe moonon the moon.
From “When You Are Old” By William Butler YeatsWhen you are old and grey and full of sleep,And nodding by the fire, take down this book,And slowly read, and dream of the soft lookYour eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;How many loved your moments of glad grace,And loved your beauty with love false or true,But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
From “After Making Love in Winter” by Sharon OldsWe have come to the end of questions, you run your palm, warm, large, dry, back along my face over and over, over and over, like God putting the finishing touches on, before sending me down to be born.
From "I Love You" by Ella Wheeler WilcoxI love your lips when they’re wet with wineAnd red with a wild desire;I love your eyes when the lovelight liesLit with a passionate fire.I love your arms when the warm white fleshTouches mine in a fond embrace;I love your hair when the strands enmeshYour kisses against my face.
From “The Orange” by Wendy CopeAt lunchtime I bought a huge orange—The size of it made us all laugh.I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave—They got quarters and I had a half.And that orange, it made me so happy,As ordinary things often doJust lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.This is peace and contentment. It’s new.The rest of the day was quite easy.I did all the jobs on my listAnd enjoyed them and had some time over.I love you. I’m glad I exist.
Classic Love Poems
From “Love Sonnet XVII” by Pablo NerudaI don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:I love you as one loves certain obscure things,secretly, between the shadow and the soul.I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carriesthe light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arosefrom the earth lives dimly in my body.
From “Love Comes Quietly” by Robert CreeleyLove comes quietly,finally, dropsabout me, on me,in the old ways.What did I knowthinking myselfable to goalone all the way.
From “[i carry your heart with me (i carry it in]" by e.e. cummingsi carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) i am never without it(anywhere)i go you go, my dear; and whatever is doneby only me is your doing, my darling).
From “Love Sonnet XI” by Pablo NerudaI crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all dayI hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
From “Sonnet 130” by William ShakespeareI grant I never saw a goddess go;My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rareAs any she belied with false compare.
From "She Walks in Beauty" by Lord Byron She walks in beauty, like the nightOf cloudless climes and starry skies;And all that’s best of dark and brightMeet in her aspect and her eyes;Thus mellowed to that tender lightWhich heaven to gaudy day denies.
From “Orpheus, Eurydice, Hermes” by Rainer Maria RilkeThis woman who was loved so much, that from one lyremore mourning came than from women in mourning;that a whole world was made from mourning, whereeverything was present once again: forest and valleyand road and village, field, river and animal;and that around this mourning-world, just asaround the other earth, a sunand a silent star-filled sky wheeled,a mourning-sky with displaced constellations–:this woman who was loved so much . . .
From “Love’s Philosophy” by Percy Bysshe ShelleyThe fountains mingle with the riverAnd the rivers with the ocean,The winds of heaven mix foreverWith a sweet emotion;Nothing in the world is single;All things by a law divineIn one spirit meet and mingleWhy not I with thine?
From “Love After Love” by Derek WalcottThe time will comewhen, with elationyou will greet yourself arrivingat your own door, in your own mirrorand each will smile at the other's welcome,and say, sit here. Eat.You will love again the stranger who was your self.Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heartto itself, to the stranger who has loved youall your life, whom you ignoredfor another, who knows you by heart.
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