Hello everyone today we are going to write post on Love Poems For Her From The Heart.
In this post we are going to write best love poems for her from the heart.
These love poems will let her make feel special. We are going to write short love poems for her because long love poems are little boring. So we are going to present this post with short and sweet love poems for her. Poems are the best way to express your feelings with a sweet gesture and sweet rhyme. Love poems will make her fall in love with your more easily instead of expression you love just saying i love you and all. Just dedicate words by a poem. So just select best love poems and dedicate to her from Love Poems For Her From The Heart . She will feel so special so just select and dedicate. We wrote best so you guys can express.
Love Poems For Her From The Heart
Love Poems For Her
Breath my air and feel
Kiss my lips and taste
Watch my eyes and see
Don’t forget to be
A BETTER TOMORROW
Author: Yvonne Warren
I never knew there would be a better tomorrow
But you’ve come into my life and taken away all my sorrow
My days of sadness are a thing of the past
Because I have found true love at last
My days of emptiness are gone for good
Because you fill a void in my heart that you should
You’ve opened a window
You’ve shown me the light
And my love for you will continue to burn bright.
Watching you sleep you look so peaceful
The joy I feel is beyond words I can say
Good morning my love my sweet angel
Thank you for waking and making my day!
You are my one desire.
So much that I admire.
Setting my world on fire.
With your smile.
With your heart.
With your love.
Always you for me.
Love Poems for her created by K.Y.B
Falling In Love
My mood is like a cloudy noon
Waiting for the sun,
Or like a sailing ship that can’t
Set sail without the tide. I fidget in my emptiness,
Not knowing where to run;
Yet when you’re near I can’t explain
What’s going on inside.
It’s too bad feelings swim so deep,
Too deep for anyone
To grasp them as they squiggle through
And take them for a ride.
By Lang Leav
When two souls fall in love, there is nothing else but the
yearning to be close to the other. The presence that is felt
through a hand held, a voice heard, or a smile seen.
Souls do not have calendars or clocks, nor do they understand
the notion of time or distance. They only know it feels right to
be with one another.
This is the reason why you miss someone so much when they
are not there— even if they are only in the very next room.
Your soul only feels their absence— it doesn’t realize the
separation is temporary.
- Looking for your face
From the beginning of my life
I have been looking for your face
but today I have seen it
Today I have seen
the charm, the beauty,
the unfathomable grace
of the face
that I was looking for
Today I have found you
and those who laughed
and scorned me yesterday
are sorry that they were not looking
as I did
I am bewildered by the magnificence
of your beauty
and wish to see you
with a hundred eyes
My heart has burned with passion
and has searched forever
for this wondrous beauty
that I now behold
I am ashamed
to call this love human
and afraid of God
to call it divine
Your fragrant breath
like the morning breeze
has come to the stillness of the garden
You have breathed new life into me
I have become your sunshine
and also your shadow
My soul is screaming in ecstasy
Every fiber of my being
is in love with you
has lit a fire in my heart
the earth and sky
My arrow of love
has arrived at the target
I am in the house of mercy
and my heart
is a place of prayer
- Your feet
By Pablo Neruda
When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.
- Night on the island
By Pablo Neruda
All night I slept with you,
by the sea, on the island.
You were wild and sweet
between pleasure and sleep,
between fire and water. Perhaps too late,
our dreams came together
at the top or the bottom,
above us, like branches
moved by common breezes
or below us,
like ruddy roots that touch.
Perhaps your dream
was divided from mine,
and through the dark seas
kept searching for me,
as it did before,
when you didn’t exist,
when without ever noticing you,
I sailed by your side,
and your eyes searched
— bread, wine, love, anger —
I now give to you lavishly
because you are the cup
that waited for the gifts of my life.
I slept with you
the whole night through
while the dark earth spun
with the living and the dead,
and on suddenly waking
in the middle of shadows
my arm caught your waist
and neither night nor sleep
could divide us.
I slept with you
and upon waking, your mouth,
departing from its dream,
gave me a taste of the soil,
of salt water, of seaweed,
the backdrop of your life,
and I received your kiss
made wet by the dawn
as if it traveled to me
from the sea all around us.
By Alice Oswald
From time to time our love is like a sail
and when the sail begins to alternate
from tack to tack, it’s like a swallowtail
and when the swallow flies it’s like a coat;
and if the coat is yours, it has a tear
like a wide mouth and when the mouth begins
to draw the wind, it’s like a trumpeter
and when the trumpet blows, it blows like
and this, my love, when millions come and go beyond the need of us, is like a trick;
and when the trick begins, it’s like a toe tip-toeing on a rope, which is like luck;
and when the luck begins, it’s like a wedding, which is like love, which is like everything.
By Pablo Neruda
I am not jealous
of what came before me.
Come with a man
on your shoulders,
come with a hundred men in your hair,
come with a thousand men between your breasts and your feet,
come like a river
full of drowned men
which flows down to the wild sea,
to the eternal surf, to Time!
Bring them all
to where I am waiting for you;
we shall always be alone,
we shall always be you and I
alone on earth,
to start our life!
- If you forget me
By Pablo Neruda
I want you to know
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
if each day, each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
- By Andrea Gibson
I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with.
Tell me why you loved them,
then tell me why they loved you.
Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through.
Tell me what the word home means to you
and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name
just by the way you describe your bedroom
when you were eight.
See, I want to know the first time you felt the weight of hate,
and if that day still trembles beneath your bones.
Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain
or bounce in the bellies of snow?
And if you were to build a snowman,
would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms
or would leave your snowman armless
for the sake of being harmless to the tree?
And if you would,
would you notice how that tree weeps for you
because your snowman has no arms to hug you
every time you kiss him on the cheek?
Do you kiss your friends on the cheek?
Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad
even if it makes your lover mad?
Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion
or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?
See, I wanna know what you think of your first name,
and if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy
when she spoke it for the very first time.
I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind.
Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel.
Tell me, knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old
beating up little boys at school.
If you were walking by a chemical plant
where smokestacks were filling the sky with dark black clouds
would you holler “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud
or would you whisper
“That cloud looks like a fish,
and that cloud looks like a fairy!”
Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin?
Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea?
And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me —
how would you explain the miracle of my life to me?
See, I wanna know if you believe in any god
or if you believe in many gods
or better yet
what gods believe in you.
And for all the times that you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself,
have the prayers you asked come true?
And if they didn’t, did you feel denied?
And if you felt denied,
denied by who?
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling good.
I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror
on a day you’re feeling bad.
I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty
could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass.
If you ever reach enlightenment
will you remember how to laugh?
Have you ever been a song?
Would you think less of me
if I told you I’ve lived my entire life a little off-key?
And I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry
I just plagiarize the thoughts of the people around me
who have learned the wisdom of silence.
Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence?
And if you do —
I want you to tell me of a meadow
where my skateboard will soar.
See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living.
I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving,
and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes.
I wanna know if you bleed sometimes
from other people’s wounds,
and if you dream sometimes
that this life is just a balloon —
that if you wanted to, you could pop,
but you never would
‘cause you’d never want it to stop.
If a tree fell in the forest
and you were the only one there to hear —
if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound,
would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist,
or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness?
And lastly, let me ask you this:
If you and I went for a walk
and the entire walk, we didn’t talk —
do you think eventually, we’d… kiss?
That’s asking too much —
this is only our first date.
- Said the shotgun to the head
By Saul Williams
Have you ever lost yourself in a kiss? I mean pure psychedelic inebriation. Not just lustful petting but transcendental metamorphosis when you became aware that the greatness of this being was breathing into you. Licking the sides and corners of your mouth, like sealing a thousand fleshy envelopes filled with the essence of your passionate being and then opened by the same mouth and delivered back to you, over and over again – the first kiss of the rest of your life. A kiss that confirms that the universe is aligned, that the world’s greatest resource is love, and maybe even that God is a woman. With or without a belief in God, all kisses are metaphors decipherable by allocations of time, circumstance, and understanding.
- William Shakespeare’s Love Sonnets
O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear, your true love’s coming,
That can sing both high and low.
Trip no further pretty sweeting,
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man’s son doth know.
What is love? ‘Tis not hereafter,
Present mirth hath present laughter,
What’s to come is still unsure.
In delay there lies no plenty,
So come kiss me sweet and twenty,
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.
Also Read : Love Poems For Her
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