#poe

I love you because no two snowflakes are alike, and it is possible, if you stand tippy-toe, to walk between the raindrops. ↗

— Nikki Giovanni

#poetry #rain #snow #love

You shall love your crooked neighbour, with your crooked heart. ↗

— W.H. Auden

#poetry #love

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. ↗

— Pablo Neruda

#passion #poetry #love

He drew a circle that shut me out- Heretic , rebel, a thing to flout. But love and I had the wit to win: We drew a circle and took him In ! From the poem " Outwitted ↗

— Edwin Markham

#heretic #love #poem #rebel #wit

تصوَّر أنني أُحبُّك - والله أُحبُّك - بهذا الشكل العفوي وأنا أشقُّ برتقالةً نصفَينِ... أتذكّرك وأنا أعبر الشارع نحو الرصيف المقابل... أتذكّرك وأنا أضع طلاء أظافري الأحمر البرّاق... أتذكّرك وأنا أُمرِّر يدي فوق رؤوس الأطفال... أتذكّرك وأنا أقف أمام البحر الهائل الزُّرقة... أتذكّرك وأنا أختار أثاث البيت... أتذكّرك وأنا أُغلِّف هدايا العيد... أتذكّرك وأنا أستيقظ صباحاً... أتذكّرك إييييه يا صديقي؛ البنت المُتوجِّسة خيفةً من زمن سيء؛ تُحبُّكَ الآن . ↗

— Nour Albawardi

#حب #love

So sweet and delicious do I become, when I am in bed with a man who, I sense, loves and enjoys me, that the pleasure I bring excels all delight, so the knot of love, however tight it seemed before, is tied tighter still. ↗

— Veronica Franco

#erotic #pleasure #poetry #sex #love

Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly. ↗

— Pablo Neruda

#june #light #love-poetry #poetry #silence

And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor - And this, and so much more? - ↗

— T.S. Eliot

#prufrock #love

In Blackwater Woods Look, the trees are turning their own bodies into pillars of light, are giving off the rich fragrance of cinnamon and fulfillment, the long tapers of cattails are bursting and floating away over the blue shoulders of the ponds, and every pond, no matter what its name is, is nameless now. Every year everything I have ever learned in my lifetime leads back to this: the fires and the black river of loss whose other side is salvation, whose meaning none of us will ever know. To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go. ↗

— Mary Oliver

#poetry #life

As Unto the bow the the cord is , So unto the man is woman; Though she bends him, she obeys him, Though she draws him , yet she follows: Useless each without the other. ↗

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

#man #marriage #poetry #woman #love