Category Archives: Love poem

“African Love Story” for dVerse Poets

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African Love Story

In this day and age
Almost everyone has a tropical love story.

Show of hands–
How many here?

There was a war.  Danger.
And there were disapproving fathers
And careers.
And yes, I know that some
Love stories survive them all.
But ours didn’t.
And he didn’t.

So just for a year and a few months
We were in love in a warm climate.
A torn love story with a sad ending
With me as its only living remnant.

Imagine yourself
In that story
Full of hormones and atmosphere

It is a meditation remembering
Sand and moonlight under the Southern Cross.
Or cocks crowing before you fell asleep
Long rolling nights in a village
Where almost no one spoke your language.

Perhaps you were a prisoner of love
As I was years ago.
Non-protesting, dizzy and dumb for passion.

Would I have stayed for love if I’d known
It was the whole business of love I’d leave behind,
And not just my beloved?

Would you?

 

 

The dVerse prompt is ‘Where Does Love Go?”

Day Lily, for Cee’s FOTD

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For Cee’s FOTD

Inevitable

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Inevitable

What folly that we thought our “we”
was something that would always be.

That lot we thought that we had cast
though once it was, was not to last,

for life is fated from the start,
conjoined hearts to rip apart.

Divorce or death, when it is done,
reduces two joined hearts to one.

 

For dVerse Poets Pub: “We” Couplets

To see other “We” poems go HERE.

Father/Daughter Discourse

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Dear Daughter:

Your frenetic new admirer is not my cup of tea,
for even though I told him that he’d have to let you be,
he resorts to tactics like climbing that big tree
to gain visual access to our property.

You, too, must be incisive in telling him to cease
if you’d like his constant efforts to come to a surcease.
For though I am your father, he allots to me no power
but simply remains stubbornly in his leafy bower.

His persistent efforts prove that he is from that faction
that they label OCD, for he shows no reaction
to my constant pleas, so do you agree with me
that it’s necessary to just cut down the tree?

Dear Papa:

Alas, though my new suitor is not your cup of tea,
I find that his flavor is agreeable to me.
I am not your teenage daughter, for I’m almost thirty-three.
So please do not molest him, and do not cut down his tree.

It is a fact, dear parent, I’m of marriageable age.
So cease with your obsession and curb parental rage.
It’s time to cut the apron strings and set your daughter free,
for I prefer another perch to my father’s knee!

 

Prompt words are frenetic, incisive, faction, allot, and almost.

First Caress

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First Caress

Like that exquisite tension between first caress
and the dropping of shoe and removal of dress.

Like that mellow first stirring of love and desire
that creates a friction that flares into fire.

Appetites that merit no dish or no spoon
enjoyed under covers and the light of the moon.

Each generation discovers anew
That first caress and the drop of a shoe.

 

Prompt words today are exquisite, tension, merit, desire, generation, mellow.

The Answer (For Name Scavenger Hunt)

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                                                 The Answer

Another night, another day
Meanders in, then fades away
And still you do not come or call.
No news from you at all, at all.
Do you realize my heart is waiting
As your heart keeps on debating?

 

 

For Looking At Names prompt, we were to write an Acrostic poem using the name Amanda

Love’s Highway

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Love’s Highway

A pilgrim on this long highway of love, he quickly learned how to forsake what was lucrative in favor of what was genuine. He learned how to first cover-up his pain from love’s last skirmish and finally, how to heal.

“Faint heart never won fair lady” and “Hope springs eternal!” became his slogans and in the end, persistence won out. He celebrated his fiftieth wedding anniversary  today, and their celebratory cake read, “Still Companions on Love’s Highway.”

Prompts today are heal, lucrative, pilgrim, genuine, springs and cover-up.

Romantic Fling

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Romantic Fling

It takes tremendous willpower to duck a louche rogue’s charm,
for something deep within us believes he means no harm.
His appeal is so humongous and his influence so great
that although we know at heart that he’d make a lousy mate,
still we can’t resist him. He piques romantic hopes
that make swashbuckling heroes out of misanthropes.

We bundle up our doubts and cast them overhead,
our fond expectations cancelling out our dread.
We jump into a love story we hope is never-ending,
knowing deep within ourselves its probable sad ending.
But nonetheless, we fall in love, in spite of our friends’ censure,
plunging into a fabulous romance-filled adventure!

Prompt words for today are louche, willpower, pique, humongous,
our  and influences.Image by jdb

louche: disreputable or sordid in a rakish or appealing way.
“the louche world of the theater”

This Dress: The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #511

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This Dress

This dress, stuffed in a corner of an old trunk,
sparks memories, rekindling magic.
From far in the future, I feel the past
rising to join me. It heats the cold air of the attic
and the skies outside the window clear of clouds.

A warm spring afternoon on a blanket in the park,
the outing I thought spontaneous
crowned with the offer of a ring.
Spilling the wine, falling sideways into the three-tiered coconut cake,
rising as one, laughing—a freshly engaged couple.

Licking the frosting off your arm. Your licking the frosting off my neck.
Symbiotic in new plans for our continuance into the future—
into the length of our lives.
That dress. A bit of frosting still on the collar.
You, so many years after, still blooming in my memory.

 

For the Sunday Whirl Wordle # 511 the prompt words are rekindle, dress, far, future, magic, ring, rising, sky, heats, spontaneous legendary sparks. Image by Kate Hizlitznova on Unsplash.

Act Three

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Act Three

The echo of your footsteps as you trod across my mind
creates anticipation of a nostalgic kind.

You elevate my consciousness as you were wont to do
and so in time I manifest the whole grand rest of you.

You’ve been a silent tenant for so many years
that this surprise appearance prompts again those  tears

I thought had been dried up in me when you had to go
to that place where you were drawn by the undertow.

For only a brief moment, we are as we have been, 
’til with a click of memory, I banish you again.

You slip back into shadow in the attic of my mind,
where both of us lie tangled, hopelessly entwined.

I come back to the present while you’re banished to the past,
once again resuming the roles in which we’re cast.

You imprisoned in act two, caught eternally
while I assume a solo role, living out act three.

Prompt words today are elevate, echo, click, tenant and cross.