Romantic Poems

Daydream

As I sit here in my seat
I think of being someplace neat
Across the land, across the sea
A place for only you and me
Of beaches filled with golden sand
Where we'd go walking hand in hand
Of cloudless skies and sunshine bright
Of countless stars twinkling at night
Of deep green fields and shady trees
Of grasses swaying in the breeze
Of gentle streams and waterfalls
Of limestone caves with silent halls
Of dusty trails and babbling brooks
Of rolling hills and mossy nooks
A place with only pleasant weather
A place we'd always be together

The Rose

In deepest dark of winter
Between the drifts of snow
I wandered cold and lonely
Out where the cold winds blow

Below the clouds of winter
A shimmer caught my eye
A perfect rose of scarlet
Had fallen from the sky

I reached to hold the flower
To hide her from the storm
And as we stood together
We kept each other warm

I hoped she'd stay forever
But though I held her tight
The chill wind took my flower
And blew her out of sight

The snows have long since melted
The skies have cleared to blue
And all around are flowers
But not the one I knew

I hope she's blooming somewhere
Where sunlight always gleams
And though we may be distant
She's with me in my dreams

Fear

Fear
   -not of death
   for I was dead before
   surely I had not lived until last week

Fear
   -not of blindness
   for always in my mind
   will I have an image of you

Fear
   -not of the past
   for all that I have experienced
   is nothing to the present

Fear
   -not of death
      nor blindness
         nor memories
but of forever being without you
and holding only might-have-beens

(untitled)

You are my princess.
I would follow you across fire and through time
Although it's not very practical,
I would slay dragons for you;
Build you a castle with silver spires;
Write music in your name to charm the Faeries;
Weave the sunset into your name.
Yet, those deeds notwithstanding,
I tremble at your touch;
Blush under your gaze;
And despair at the thought of losing you.
You are my princess.
Pretend I'm a frog. You know what to do.

(untitled)

At Summer's end the days grow short
And leaves begin to turn
My heart wards off the evening chill
For inside passion burns
I'll trade them all, the leaves of green
And all the days so bright
To have one thing - my lover home
and safe with me tonight.

Back to poetry