Tag poems about love
This hunger will not tire.
The heart knows all too well,
What the lips ache to tell.
The eyes begin to dance,
No more concern for romance.
A slight touch of the hand,
Weakness sets in and you cannot stand.
This passion yearns to be fed,
A tangled mess of naked flesh falls to the bed.
The nails claw and tear,
Hair and sweat are all you wear.
Both knowing neither will compromise
Like traders glamorising a business deal
Ignoring anything that’s real
You know there’s a connection
Too busy, insecure of the reflection
The lads would think you’re under whip
Need to inform them if I stay the night
Being honest I can’t say much
Don’t want to be labelled slut
The summer breeze a sigh
I met a girl out walking too
And as I passed her by,
I noticed on her t-shirt
In letters of black and red
‘I want to know the details of real love’
And so I stopped and said —
You want to know the details of real love?
Then let me tell you this —
Real love begins with a kiss
A touch
A word
A glance
A dance.
Real love begins with a text
A call
But that’s not all,
It’s reaching out
And falling into
Love is
sight where obscurity lays
parallel to luminous visually blinding curiosity
perceiving light’s blinking eye to warm a shaken path
of dark and damp coldness until tipping toes can
walk firmly on unyielding solid ground…
Love is
monochromatic rainbows in shades of you;
pale tones of expectations with no expectations
interrupted by kaleidoscopic flushings
at that chanced, precise moment
when shades of you casts hues of you
as the sun reflects its orange moon…
the way they ignited something in me
when they collided with mine.
The way his fingertips reminded me
of a cold winter breeze
We sat in the warm beach sand
Basking in the sun
I sat between your legs
My back pressed against your chest
Your fingers caressed my leg lovingly
And you spoke softly in my ear
I turn to look you in the eyes
As you whisper adoringly, words of love
Our eyes meet in heady passion
And your hand goes to my neck
Bringing me in for a breathtaking kiss
That leaves my toes curling in the sand
We end the kiss with a small laugh
And you smile, dimples gracing your cheeks
I run my hand through your hair
Loving the way you lean into my touch
Forgive me when lightning plays on the keys of your sorrow
and there is no time for everything you say
to be laid here at my feet.
Still, know that I am here when your inner light
of wisdom catches dust on the frame of your heartbeat
and I will listen through your tears.
On those days when life feels like a flying bird,
do not feel sorry for reaching out
to enlightenment as your lover, please know,
that I understand your need.
There are miles of bedlam that I would love to turn into flowers
on those nights when your sea tumbles restlessly
and those dragons of madness make you burn
He forgot the strength held in the soft bosom of superstition,
and Saturdays that became cloudy without promise of
awakening to scrambled eggs
and kisses…
He became movement in the trees, his entire body
trembling as if she walked over his grave
again and again…
She was different, and everyone knew magic
was her air…
waiting with swollen lips and traces of love
that could have been…
