It’s that time of year again where I get to share one of my favorite traditions: love poetry!
While I usually collect favorite love poems throughout the year, I admit that this year was a struggle to find time to read anything, let alone poetry. Work and life both became a time suck in 2019, BUT I’m working around those things a tiny bit better now. SO this year’s poems were only collected within the last few months as I frantically read through books to find something “new” that I hadn’t shared before. And I also admit that I wasn’t finding a lot I REALLY loved. I found a LOT of duds this year (in my opinion) and I refuse to share poetry I don’t love. Otherwise, you wouldn’t love it either. And that’s the whole point: to help others love poetry as much as I do.
So, this year, I have 3 love poems, 1 picture book love poem, and 1 poem I’ve written. I found a theme of love growing and/or devotion was running through all of them. I will share the picture book poem last.
“The Presence of Love”
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
And in Life’s noisiest hour,
There whispers still the ceaseless Love of Thee,
The heart’s Self-solace and soliloquy.
You mould my Hopes, you fashion me within;
And to the leading Love-throb in the Heart
Thro’ all my Being, thro’ my pulses beat;
You lie in all my many Thoughts, like Light,
Like the fair light of Dawn, or summer Eve
On rippling Stream, or cloud-reflecting Lake.
And looking to the Heaven, that bends abov you,
How oft! I bless the Lot, that made me love you.
“I Love Thee”
By Eliza Acton
I love thee, as I love the calm
Of sweet, star-lighted hours!
I love thee, as I love the balm
Of early jes’mine flow’rs.
I love thee, as I love the last
Rich smile of fading day,
Which lingereth, like the look we cast,
On rapture pass’d away.
I love thee as I love the tone
Of some soft-breathing flute
Whose soul is wak’d for me alone,
When all beside is mute.
I love thee as I love the first
Young violet of the spring;
Or the pale lily, April-nurs’d,
To scented blossoming.
I love thee, as I love the full,
Clear gushings of the song,
Which lonely, sad and beautiful—
At night-fall floats along,
Pour’d by the bulbul forth to greet
The hours of rest and dew;
When melody and moonlight meet
To blend their charm, and hue.
I love thee, as the glad bird loves
The freedom of its wing,
On which delightedly it moves
In wildest wandering.
I love thee as I love the swell,
And hush, of some low strain,
Which bringeth, by its gentle spell,
The past to life again.
Such is the feeling which from thee
Nought earlthy can allure:
‘Tis ever link’d to all I see
Of gifted, high and pure!
“Oh, No—Not Ev’n When First We Loved”
By Thomas Moore
Oh, no—not ev’n when first we loved,
Wert thou as dear as now thou art;
Thy beauty then my senses moved,
But now they virtues bind my heart.
What was but Passion’s sigh before,
Has since been turn’d to Reason’s vow;
And, though I then might love thee more,
Trust me, I love thee better now.
Although my heart in earlier youth
Might kindle with more wild desire,
Believe me, it has gain’d in truth
Much more than it has lost in fire.
The flame now warms my inmost core,
That then but sparkled o’er my brow,
And, though I seem’d to love thee more,
Yet, oh, I love thee better now.
I will rest
I will rest
In your arms
I will rest
From your body
Stealing the chill
From the sheets.
I will rest
Finally, a poem from a picture book called “Dogs Rule!” by Daniel Kirk.