My love is like a deep and placid lake... Not now, sweetie, Daddy's busy, OK? OK: my love's a deep and peaceful lake... Here, Daddy can fix it. All better. Now go play. Um, my love, yes—a rose that blooms in spring... You tell her Daddy says she has to share. My love's... My love's a lake that . . .
The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove That hills and valleys, dale and field, And all the craggy mountains yield. There will we sit upon the rocks, And see the shepherds feed their flocks, By shallow rivers to whose falls Melodious birds sing . . .
New Moon
Moonrise is not forever, so in this brief hour while we are tidal, ebbing and flowing, show me your light. —Lorna Cahall This love poem appeared in Every Day Poems. Subscribe now, for a year of happy mornings. Check out Funny Love Songs Check out Romantic Love Songs . . .
Sonnet 130: My Mistress’ Eyes are Nothing like the Sun
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And in some perfumes is there . . .
Ontology
She can be a nest. She's got the necessary equipment. Two breasts you could rest your head between. She can be a string of pearls, rounded between your fingers, as you count the time between ivory knots. She is, yes, the artichoke with the impossible heart a man might seek for . . .
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