Winter Romance Poems

How wicked the tricks of your serpent’s lair
a lingual place of wild mango magic behind caliente lips
where a supple sensualist lies in seductive ambush
rum on...

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The light is bright
as I slip from under the covers
yet the house groans and creaks
and the ghost of winter lurks
within the walls.
When I was a...

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Thoughts can be thin fractures in the order of things.
Sometimes my dorm room seems a sterile sarcophagus, like an accusation, or an interrogation about my...

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A mask of innocence I wore, 
To hide my red eyes sore.
In worlds together we dreamt of, 
You would hold me like foxglove. 

The face...

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If rain pours down, is sunshine far behind?
I’ve wasted so much time believing lies
Until I met a man who changed my mind,
And stole my heart...

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Rather should the winter never end,
If I should meet the spring without thy hand.
The seasons our souls do summers send,
And all do fall upon our...

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Love is the splendour that mystifies me
A rainbow in the sky colours my mind
Rapture bosom in high-spirited glee
Blind by passion, beloved we enshrined

Romance,...

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I miss you
like the parched earth thirsts for the rain
I miss you
like the nightingale's song heralds the coming of spring
I miss you
like the night birds...

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When love strikes the heart, like the lightening hit, wonder consumes the lover, whispering night’s regrets. While the springtime reaches into the soul with its...

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Step across the threshold,
Step into my world.
You can be my Summer;
We will languish in the heat.
Lying sweaty on top of messy sheets.
Our time will seem...

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I still remember the day I saw you,
It as fresh and beautiful, like the early morning dew.

It was in the season of winter,
when the sky...

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The crisp cold air, a canvas pure and white,
Beneath our blades, we glide with swift delight.

A winter's tale, a frozen fairyland,
Where laughter rings and love's...

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Oh my beloved,
liberate me from my antagonist.
I feel like a seashell washed 
upon an abandoned shore.
I try to leave footprints for you to find me,
but...

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Winter’s cold chill cuts through my chin.
Within its bleak and brazen embrace,
My brisk days are turned brief and barren.
They are lengthened into sordid sepulchral insomniac...

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I am not the perfect poet,
you and I both know it,
though surely we could share,
our time with rhyme and reason,
springtime, snowdrop, couplets,
summer days of sunshine...

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