Love is.......

Since The Day.....

It Is You I Dream Of

A flower grows from beneath a blanket
Of fine and purest white
It reaches toward the sun for warmth,
For heat and for the light

My love for you grows stronger still,
Despite the surrounding cold
My heart is yours, bartered gone
For yours has it been sold

Its petals shine from morning dew
Its stem grows stiff and strong
It stands strong through the freezing cold
It stands the winter long

I long for you, for your soft touch
I miss the way you smile
The longer that we stay apart
The longer every mile

The flower stretches through the snow
It reaches toward the sun
And now without you the color is gone
The flower's petals, dun

But as we talk, and as we learn
The flower comes back to life
The snow now melts and goes away
As you take away my strife

Spring is here and growth abounds
As you and I are one
We are together, we are in love
The snow for now is done

I see the future, in dreams I have
Of our life, long and true
I see the times where all I need
Are comforting words from you

I see the times when winter comes
As winter tends to do
But we still love, and we still live
And I do still love you

And so we live, with children ours
And a life of much to see
With love we live, to live we love
Happy together are we

I see the flower, older now,
But still strong with fresh new leaves
I see it growing, tall and strong
Reaching to the eaves

We are now old, as years have passed
But old together are we
And strong our love still today
As strong as it can be

- J. R. King -

A Pretty Woman

That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers,
And the blue eye
Dear and dewy,
And that infantine fresh air of hers!

To think men cannot take you, Sweet,
And enfold you,
Ay, and hold you,
And so keep you what they make you, Sweet!

You like us for a glance, you know---
For a word's sake
Or a sword's sake,
All's the same, whate'er the chance, you know.

And in turn we make you ours, we say---
You and youth too,
Eyes and mouth too,
All the face composed of flowers, we say.

All's our own, to make the most of, Sweet---
Sing and say for,
Watch and pray for,
Keep a secret or go boast of, Sweet!

But for loving, why, you would not, Sweet,
Though we prayed you,
Paid you, brayed you
in a mortar---for you could not, Sweet!

So, we leave the sweet face fondly there:
Be its beauty
Its sole duty!
Let all hope of grace beyond, lie there!

And while the face lies quiet there,
Who shall wonder
That I ponder
A conclusion? I will try it there.

As---why must one, for the love foregone,
Scout mere liking?
Thunder-striking
Earth---the heaven, we looked above for, gone!

Why, with beauty, needs there money be,
Love with liking?
Crush the fly-king
In his gauze, because no honey-bee?

May not liking be so simple-sweet,
If love grew there
'Twould undo there
All that breaks the cheek to dimples sweet?

Is the creature too imperfect,
Would you mend it
And so end it?
Since not all addition perfects aye!

Or is it of its kind, perhaps,
Just perfection---
Whence, rejection
Of a grace not to its mind, perhaps?

Shall we burn up, tread that face at once
Into tinder,
And so hinder
Sparks from kindling all the place at once?

Or else kiss away one's soul on her?
Your love-fancies!
---A sick man sees
Truer, when his hot eyes roll on her!

Thus the craftsman thinks to grace the rose---
Plucks a mould-flower
For his gold flower,
Uses fine things that efface the rose:

Rosy rubies make its cup more rose,
Precious metals
Ape the petals,---
Last, some old king locks it up, morose!

Then how grace a rose? I know a way!
Leave it, rather.
Must you gather?
Smell, kiss, wear it---at last, throw away!

A Blue Valentine - a poem by Joyce Kilmer

Monsignore,
Right Reverend Bishop Valentinus,
Sometime of Interamna, which is called Ferni,
Now of the delightful Court of Heaven,
I respectfully salute you,
I genuflect
And I kiss your episcopal ring.

It is not, Monsignore,
The fragrant memory of your holy life,
Nor that of your shining and joyous martyrdom,
Which causes me now to address you.
But since this is your august festival, Monsignore,
It seems appropriate to me to state
According to a venerable and agreeable custom,
That I love a beautiful lady.
Her eyes, Monsignore,
Are so blue that they put lovely little blue reflections
On everything that she looks at,
Such as a wall
Or the moon
Or my heart.
It is like the light coming through blue stained glass,
Yet not quite like it,
For the blueness is not transparent,
Only translucent.
Her soul's light shines through,
But her soul cannot be seen.
It is something elusive, whimsical, tender, wanton, infantile, wise
And noble.
She wears, Monsignore, a blue garment,
Made in the manner of the Japanese.
It is very blue-
I think that her eyes have made it more blue,
Sweetly staining it
As the pressure of her body has graciously given it form.
Loving her, Monsignore,
I love all her attributes;
But I believe
That even if I did not love her
I would love the blueness of her eyes,
And her blue garment, made in the manner of the Japanese.

Monsignore,
I have never before troubled you with a request.
The saints whose ears I chiefly worry with my pleas
are the most exquisite and maternal Brigid,
Gallant Saint Stephen, who puts fire in my blood,
And your brother bishop, my patron,
The generous and jovial Saint Nicholas of Bari.
But, of your courtesy, Monsignore,
Do me this favour:
When you this morning make your way
To the Ivory Throne that bursts into bloom with roses
because of her who sits upon it,
When you come to pay your devoir to Our Lady,
I beg you, say to her:
"Madame, a poor poet, one of your singing servants yet on earth,
Has asked me to say that at this moment he is especially grateful to you
For wearing a blue gown".

A CUTE POEM FOR A CUTE GIRL

You changed my world with a blink of an eye
That is something that I can not deny
You put my soul from worst to best
That is why I treasure you my dearest Marites

You just don't know what you have done for me
You even pushed me to the best that I can be
You really are an angel sent from above
To take care of me and shower with love

When I'm with you I will not cry even a single a tear
And your touch have chased away all of my fear
You have given me a life that I could live worthwhile
It is even better everytime you smile

It so magical those things you've made
To bring back my faith that almost fade
Now my life is a dream come true
It all began when I was loved by you

Now I have found what I am looking for
It's you and your love and nothing more
Co'z you have given me this feeling of contentment
In my life something I've never felt

I wish I could talk 'til the end of day
But now I'm running out of things to say
So I'll end by the line you already know
"I LOVE YOU" more than what I could show

All Because of You

Dark days become sunny
Frigid days become warm,
Rainy days become cloudless
And lightning got wiped away from the storm.

Oceans sing,
Rocks cry out,
Mountains roar,
And tree branches shout.

The stars fall
Right out of the sky.
The moon winks
And the sun went dry.

All because you said one thing
All because you said it true
All because you made me smile
All because you said I love you.

Hug Coupon

Love Me Little, Love Me Long

Love me little, love me long,
Is the burden of my song.
Love that is too hot and strong
   Burneth soon to waste.
Still, I would not have thee cold,
Not too backward, nor too bold;
Love that lasteth till 'tis old
   Fadeth not in haste.
      Love me little, love me long,
      Is the burden of my song.

If thou lovest me too much,
It will not prove as true as touch;
Love me little, more than such,
   For I fear the end.
I am with little well content,
And a little from thee sent
Is enough, with true intent
   To be steadfast friend.
      Love me little, love me long,
      Is the burden of my song.

Say thou lov'st me while thou live;
I to thee my love will give,
Never dreaming to deceive
   Whiles that life endures.
Nay, and after death, in sooth,
I to thee will keep my truth,
As now, when in my May of youth;
   This my love assures.
      Love me little, love me long,
      Is the burden of my song.

Constant love is moderate ever,
And it will through life persever;
Give me that, with true endeavor
   I will it restore.
A suit of durance let it be,
For all weathers that for me,
For the land or for the sea,
   Lasting evermore.
      Love me little, love me long,
      Is the burden of my song.

Winter's cold, or summer's heat,
Autumn's tempests on it beat,
It can never know defeat,
   Never can rebel.
Such the love that I would gain,
Such the love, I tell thee plain,
Thou must give, or woo in vain;
   So to thee, farewell!
      Love me little, love me long,
      Is the burden of my song.

Love

Wet Love in Rain........