LOVE POEMS

Your oceanic eyes
Pablo Neruda

Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad netstowards your oceanic eyes.

There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames,its arms turning like a drowning man's.

I send out red signals across your absent eyesthat move like the sea near a lighthouse.

You keep only darkness, my distant female,from your regard sometimes the coast of dread emerges.

Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad netsto that sea that beats on your marine eyes.

The birds of night peck at the first starsthat flash like my soul when I love you.

The night gallops on its shadowy mareshedding blue tassels over the land.

nd and Window Flower

Love Poem by Robert Frost

Lovers, forget your love,And list to the love of these,

She a window flower,And he a winter breeze.

When the frosty window veilWas melted down at noon,And the caged yellow birdHung over her in tune,He marked her through the pane,

He could not help but mark,And only passed her by

To come again at dark.He was a winter wind,

Concerned with ice and snow,Dead weeds and unmated birds,

And little of love could know.But he sighed upon the sill,

He gave the sash a shake,As witness all withinWho lay that night awake.

Perchance he half prevailed

To win her for the flight

From the firelit looking-glassAnd warm stove-window light.

But the flower leaned aside

And thought of naught to say,

And morning found the breeze

A hundred miles away.

Her Voice
Sad love poem by Oscar Wilde

The wild bee reels from bough to bough

With his furry coat and his gauzy wing,

Now in a lily-cup, and now Setting a jacinth bell a-swing,

In his wandering;

Sit closer love: it was here I trowI made that vow,

Swore that two lives should be like one

As long as the sea-gull loved the sea,

As long as the sunflower sought the sun,-

It shall be, I said, for eternity 'Twixt you and me!

Dear friend, those times are over and done;

Love's web is spun.

Look upward where the poplar trees

Sway and sway in the summer air,

Here in the valley never a breeze Scatters the thistledown,

but there Great winds blow fair

From the mighty murmuring mystical seas,

And the wave-lashed leas.

Look upward where the white gull screams,

What does it see that we do not see?

Is that a star? or the lamp that gleams

On some outward voyaging argosy,

Ah! can it be We have lived our lives in a land of dreams!

How sad it seems. Sweet, there is nothing left to say

But this, that love is never lost, Keen winter stabs the breasts of May Whose crimson roses burst his frost,

Ships tempest-tossed

Will find a harbour in some bay,And so we may.

And there is nothing left to do But to kiss once again, and part, Nay,

there is nothing we should rue,

I have my beauty,-you your Art, Nay, do not start,

One world was not enough for twoLike me and you.

You Left Me
by Emily Dickinson

You left me, sweet, two legacies, -

A legacy of love

A Heavenly Father would content,

Had He the offer of;

You left me boundaries of pain

Capacious as the sea,

Between eternity and time,

Your consciousness and me.

Wild Nights
Passionate Poem by Emily Dickinson
Wild nights. Wild nights!

Were I with thee,Wild nights should be

Our 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 with thee!