8 WAYS TO WRITE A LOVE POEM

Remember a time when you really wanted to tell someone how you felt about them, but didn’t think you could get the words to come out right? Or that time you wanted to give a certain someone a present, but you couldn’t find that perfect thing? Well, the next time that happens, have no fear — because our love poem tip guide is here (you love our snazzy rhyme, huh?)! Some feelings just need to be expressed, and writing a love poem is one of the most creative and sincere ways to say I LOVE YOU.

1. Feelings. When you look at the person you love, what runs through your mind? Think of words to describe how they make you feel, so you can use them throughout your poem. Even if they make your brain all foggy, write about that!
2. Firsts.  Everyone loves a bit of nostalgia. Remember how this person first came into your life. Was it love at first sight, or were you totally turned off until you got to know them better? Where were you? What details can you remember about the first time you met/went on a date/kissed? The little things matter, especially in a love poem, so don’t forget about them.
3. Comparison. If you’re writing a love poem about someone, chances are they’ve had a pretty big impact on your life. In your poem, compare how your life was before and after this person began playing a role in your life story. Maybe you were going through a rough time and they made it better, or you were always a happy person, but they just made you smile a little wider. Whatever your story, everyone enjoys being told how much they matter, so be sure to let this person know how much they’ve changed your life for the better.
4. Tone. Don’t worry about making your poem sound too sappy or romantic. Just be yourself, use your personality, and write about the things that might be a little harder to say out loud. Yeah, it sounds corny, but the best poems are the ones that come from your heart.
5. Pattern. When it comes to the format of the poem, creating a rhyme scheme or pattern shouldn’t be the main focus. If a rhyme comes naturally, go for it, but remember that some of the greatest poems don’t rhyme. Sometimes, a sing-song rhyme can take away the heart of a poem because both the writer and the reader pay more attention to how the poem is written, instead of what it’s about. For a love poem, it’s about what you say, not how you say it.
6. Spread the Love. No matter who you are or who stole your heart,
7. we all love a love poem At Poetree Creations.
8. Why not give it some thought.

A TEAR ON MY PILLOW -Promote Yourself

When I lay and think, in my bed at night,
the day you’ll arrive, seems nowhere in sight.
I toss and I turn, dreaming of you,
opening my eye’s… checking if my dream came true.
It didn’t, again, and a tear starts to roll,
weeping quietly… my pillow I hold.

Many sleepless nights I’ve prayed for you, my love.
God touched my soul from heaven above
He’s answered my prayers for my bride to be.
I’ve never felt this lucky, God did this for me.
That’s a question I asked each and every night.

He must think your special, Joy, and I know he’s right.
No other has made me feel so complete,
my whole life was lived, just so we could meet.
All these thoughts and more going through my head.
I fall asleep not worrying, but dreaming of you… instead.

Author: David G Teves

Christmas Sonnet Variiation

~

When love becomes our answer to our day,

our dreams, our passions, are every way

responsible. We seek new travels when 

just ahead,

family makes some sort of sense again.

Each day we walk across same horizons

acting out our world through inspiration.

We live to dream to overcome our fears.

to be led

along safe departures strong with new tears

Please look aside in front and all around

A spiritual reality is found

We are the energy of our sweet lives

break some bread,

cherishing love when anyone arrives.

So now tonight take hands in quiet peace

share love, draw happiness, allow release!

~

© Thom Amundsen 2014

http://thinkingoutloudagain.com

St George’s Day

Happy St George’s Day! Nowadays, it’s not St George’s martyrdom that propelled him to popularity, but the tales of his heroism in slaying dragons and rescuing maidens.

Whilst St George never visited the British Isles, during the Middle Ages he became revered by the English and according to legend fought on their side in the Crusades and the Hundred Years’ War.

Several cities, towns and villages around the country are enthusiastically celebrating St George, so we thought we would bring you some nostalgic photos that might help in a small way remind us all of what makes England so great!

The cathedral city of Salisbury in Wiltshire is one of the few places to celebrate the English National Day of St George on April 23rd and processions, tableaux, and fireworks make it a special day in the manner of the original medieval celebrations of the occasion.

Photo: Salisbury, High Street 1919.

Ipswich in Suffolk is famous for the Ancient House (or Sparrowe’s House) with its incredible decorative plasterwork known as pargetting. The building was remodelled with its pargetting by Robert Sparrowe around 1670, and an interesting feature of the decoration is St George slaying a dragon (symbolizing evil) whilst wearing a top hat.

Photo: Ipswich, The Ancient House 1921.

The earliest known dedication to St George in a church in England is at Fordington in Dorset (now part of Dorchester) that is mentioned in the will of King Alfred the Great.
The St George’s Church at Fordington that we see today was first built in the Middle Ages, and the Perpendicular tower is 15th-century. Parts of it date from around AD1100, constructed in what is known architecturally as the Norman or Romanesque style. The most obvious feature of this period greets the visitor on entering the porch. This is the tympanum, the semicircular stone above the inner door. It has a carving interpreted as St. George coming to the aid of Crusaders at the battle of Antioch during the First Crusade in 1098.

Photo: Fordington, St George’s Church 1898.

The Queen’s Head is little changed – maybe a horse trough on the pavement but the front of the building is pure English village pub! It was the starting point for many a village pub crawl and some fun times pushing wheelbarrows of tipsy teenage friends on charity fundraising days in the 1960’s. Little did I realise back in 1966 that forty years later I would still be calling at the Queen’s Head but instead of pushing a wheelbarrow I would be playing an accordian for the Whitethorn Morris Dancers! It has been a popular venue for morris dancers and mummers – particularly on St George’s Day.” (A memory shared by John Howard Norfolk.)

Photo: Pinner, The Queens Head c.1955.
Memory: A Traditional English Pub!

One of the most distinctive buildings of Stevenage in Hertfordshire is the Church of St Andrew and St George near the Town Gardens in St George’s Way, a striking example of modern church design. It was constructed in the 1960s to serve the New Town and was originally consecrated as St George’s, but was re-dedicated to St Andrew and St George in 1984. It is the largest parish church to have been built in England since the Second World War.

Photo: Stevenage, St George’s Church c.1960.

Windsor is dominated by its famous castle, the principal residence of the sovereigns of the United Kingdom and the largest continually inhabited medieval castle in the world. St George’s Chapel is the chapel of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, the world’s oldest order of chivalry; the Order was founded in 1348 by King Edward III who was a great admirer of the warrior saint. The Order originally honoured knightly valour, but today’s Knights of the Garter are chosen from people who have served their country notably or achieved something exceptional. Each knight has a stall in St George’s chapel where their knightly achievements hang (crest, helm, mantling, sword and banner).

Photo: Windsor, The Castle, St George’s Chapel 1895.

Halfway along King Street in Great Yarmouth in Norfolk is St George’s Church, one of the few Classical-style churches in East Anglia. It was built in 1714 by John Price, modelled on a baroque design borrowed from Christopher Wren, and endowed by a special Act of Parliament. This historic church has characteristic 18th-century galleries, pulpit and reredos, and a plaster ceiling above the nave. St George’s Church is now used as an arts centre.

Photo: Great Yarmouth, St George’s Church 1891.

COASTWISE BARGES- YOUR FAVOURITE POEM

 

Poem, origin unknown, found in handwritten notes of the late Frank Willmott.Buxom barges drifting, Outward with the tide, Outward, onwards, seawrad, Where buoys and beacons guide.Bound with Grain for Yarmouth, Ghistong down the Swin, Hasting, winding, storming, From Lowerstoft to Kings Lynn.Every port and haven From Tyne to Cawsand Bay, Still sees the barges trading With fresh cargoes every day.Laden deep with sugar, with barley, sand or coke, Spritties keep on sailin, They were built of English oak.But their day is passing, Fewer with each tide, Grace old London’s river, Long may their rare charm abide YOUR FAVOURITE POEM  SENT IN BY YOU WHAT’S YOUR’S

TAKE A WALK IN YOUR GARDEN – Promote Yourself

As I a walk through my garden,

I see wonders to behold,

The beautiful colours of nature,

All these to me unfold.

We all take nature for granted,

For the things we gaze upon,

For the sound of birds on the wing,

For the melodious trill of their song.

Who creates a beautiful garden?

What power surrounds all within,

Who places peace in that garden?

We should know, for it comes from him.

The creator of the universe,

Is instilled within every flower,

Giving out love and harmony,

Giving out compassion and healing power.

So next time you walk in your garden,

Be aware of the things that you see,

For all the things in your garden,

Were created for you and me.

Malcolm G Bradshaw

“I Dig That Selfie”.- Promote Yourself

Moments frozen within a breeze…

an instantaneous second

yielding to a rooted perfection

like blades of grass standing still

inside the corner of a bloodshot eye…

speaking in elegantly played tones

of singular beige images…and lipstick.

The way you fold inside the contours

of an inspired embrace…

rousing buried quickening paces

that stand still in heartbreaking pastures

where you extend to fulfill

impatient meaningful futures.

I miss you today…

and for all tomorrows.

Nathan Lyndsay

https://randompoemswithnohome.wordpress.com/2015/03/02/i-dig-that-selfie/

ᐧ

The Beautiful Spring – Promote Yourself

“I was here first,” said the snowdrop: “look!”
“Not before me!” sang the silver brook.
“Why,” cried the grass, “I’ve been here a week!”
“So have I, dear,” sighed a violet meek.

“Well,” piped a bluebird, “don’t leave me out!
I saw the snow that lay round about.”
“Yes,” chirped a snowbird, “that may be true;
But I’ve seen it all the bleak winter through.”

“I came betimes,” sang the southwind, “I!”
“After me, love!” spake the deep blue sky.
“Who is it cares?” chimed the crickets gay:
“Now you are here, let us hope you’ll stay.”

Whispered the sun, “Lo! the winter’s past:
What does it matter who’s first or last?
Sky, brooks, and flowers, and birdies that sing,
All help to make up the beautiful spring.”

George Cooper

“Like a Turtle” -Promote Yourself

 

The tempo of time is barely noted

whenever the infinite arcing span

of your soft healing smile beams

within this gracious space we share.

No frantic radius of muted miles exists

and petals stream intently outward

converting a volume of distance into

an elegant concoction of silvery stars.

The sumptuous glide of everything you are

bears itself with a poised exquisiteness

and I find myself folded at your feet.

I could inquire but this bonny point

has already found its precise poignant mark

…like some newly formed dream.

I love you and where have you been?

• Nathan Lindsay

Gallilean/The Big Fisherman

Scattered…

Don’t know what’s been collected

What has been gathered

A connection is being made

A path is laid

Casting and retrieving again

Laden and sparse

More than sufficient

Prudence increases proficience

Land-locked…

Longing for the seashore

Smell of salt in the air

Rushes of wind and waves

dancing clouds of frantic seabirds

feasting on a boiling surface

shatters silent glass in dreams

while waiting…

always the mending of the nets

my brethren and I are called to be

comforted one in another

passing time gainfully

a good fisherman always prepares

before heading out to ‘see’

representing more than we ever thought

something so simple could mean

a living…

a trade…

remolded, reshaped, reborn, remade,

in the end diving headfirst into the sea of glass,

in Your arms…

“I Love You, I’ve always Loved You”

The fisherman rests.

“come…”

(a tender whisper on a gentle breeze from a nearby shore beckons and tear-filled eyes refreshed bask in the glow of the sight)

• anthony gomez

Tornado -promote yourself

The tornado
Gathering pace
Funnelling
All in its path
Tree trunk dense
Solid
Growing
Whirling round
And ground
Ripped beneath
Our feet
Root and branch
Torn
Matchsticks
Of all we thought
Secure
Lines drawn
This side torn
That side blown

Written watching dear friends and unable to help apart from prayer

Cheryl Bhagwandin
http://www.cheryl62blog.wordpress.com

Poem about the Dunkirk Evacuation

The “Evacuation of Dunquecue) Dunkirk” was written by a member of the Enniskillen Fusillers, an Irish infantry regiment of the British Army, who participated in the evacuation. The author of the poem wrote it during his recuperation from the war.  It given to Iris Fewkes who it turn submitted it to Joyce Mills of Age Concern Library in Leicester, English.

Evacuation of Dunquecue (Dunkirk)

Withdrawal orders had just come through,
Where we were bound for no one knew,
As time past by we heard the talk,
Of our destination being the beach at Dunquecue.

For days and nights on the country wide,
The troops on foot fought side by side,
While on roads in one unending line,
The convoys race against father time.

Hedges and roadside we know its true,
Were strewn with guns and vehicles too,
But no one seemed to think of the loss or gain,
Their thoughts were one, to live and fight again.

The weary trek was oh! so long,
But the allied troops were still in song,
The thought of loved ones there at home,
Gave British tommies no want to roam.

A ruined mass was what we saw,
When at last we reached the Dunquecue Shore,
The blazing docks with their reddish light,
Give guide to see us thought the night,

But what a sight there was in store,
The boys in blue and ships galore,
The Air Force too did play their part
In the Epic of Dunquecue right from the start.

Breakdown

 

When your world is crashing around you,

When your head is in a mess,

When you take it out of your loved ones,

When you think you know beast.

 

When you want to hide away from life.

And blame everybody at fault,

When you feel out of control,

That’s when you need to call a halt.

 

My friend, you are heading for a breakdown,

For your life is out of control,

You need help to correct it,

Before it rips out your soul.

 

Don’t try to correct it yourself,

You need help from another source,

Allow your doctor to treat you,

So that you can get back on course.

 

For when you have had your treatment,

Those dark clouds will drift away,

You then will be back to normal,

You then will see the light of day.

 

Malcolm Bradshaw

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat -YOUR FAVOURITE POEM

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea In a beautiful pea-green boat, They took some honey, and plenty of money Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar, “O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love, What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, You are! What a beautiful Pussy you are!” Pussy said to the Owl, “You elegant fowl! How charmingly sweet you sing! O let us be married! too long we have tarried: But what shall we do for a ring?” They sailed away, for a year and a day, To the land where the Bong-tree grows And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood With a ring at the end of his nose, His nose, His nose, With a ring at the end of his nose.
“Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling Your ring?” Said the Piggy, “I will.
” So they took it away, and were married next day By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon, The moon, The moon, They danced by the light of the moon.
by Edward Lear

YOUR FAVOURITE POEM

SENT IN BY YOU

WHAT’S YOUR’S?

Me And Grandpa – Promote Yourself

I remember me and grandpa and the way we used to fish
It was my childhood fantasy, my one and only wish.
I couldn’t wait to get there, but the ride was very long,
so we all sat back in our car and sang this special song.
You get a line, I’ll get a pole; we all know how it goes I guess
it’s just a song that everybody knows.
Over the hills and though the trees and there it finally is,
a massive structure of steel, the Missouri river bridge.
We cross the bridge slowly you know it’s not real wide,
and every time I’ve crossed that bridge I’ve felt a sense of pride.
The fever’s really got me now with not that far to go,
around the lake I see the boats and then there’s Big-a-low.
Grandma’s probably cooking and making something great,
she always saves a little bit even if we’re late.
The sights are now familiar; my palms begin to sweat,
can’t wait to fish with Grandpa and make our special bet.
So now I’m finally here and I guess it means just this,
that when the morning comes Ill get my fishing wish.
Thanks Grandpa

© Randy R. Patterson

 

A SENSE OF NATURE – Promote Yourself

 Hark

Do you hear what I hear?

It is the sound of the common sparrow,

It can be heard the world,

Through fields of sweet corn, cauliflower and marrow.

 

Look

Do you see what I see?

It is the striking feathers of the proud male peacock,

Preening himself upon a sacred rock.

 

Sniff

Do you smell what I smell?

It is the scent of the buddleia flower,

Attracting red admirals with all its power.

 

Yum

Do you taste what I taste?

It is the sweet stem of the evening clover,

Which is found in the fields the whole year over.

 

Touch

Do you feel what I feel?

It is the soft fleece of an infant lamb standing for the very first time.

Come on little fellow if I can do it you can!

 

Now I must go and meditate upon the dew drenched wheat,

Along with the millipedes, that crawl across my feet.

I think about nature and all the joy it brings,

And how one can use their senses to experience these things.

by Jessica Burton

Tornadoes 2 -Promote Yourself

When lines are drawn
Assumptions made
To be objective
Seems an enemy
To all

Torn apart
Stretched beyond
When pleasing one
Confronts another
When no opinion
Will not do
Or help
When avoiding
Solving
Hurting
Which can’t be done

Impossible when
Sides are drawn
The tumult
Pulls the innocents
Inside
And pebbles
Dropped
Out ripple
Devastation

Cheryl Bhagwandin
http://www.cheryl62.wordpress.com

Wet Socks-promote yourself

   

(“so you’re decided, this is your choice?”)
Where’d you come from, what’s it to you?
Sorry…sorry I don’t even know you, I didn’t mean to be so rude. I’m just kinda’ upset that’s all. Feels like the whole world is against me..ya’ know.
(“I do know and they are, but they hated me before they hated you”)
I just always feel like I’m drowning.
(“that’s because you are”)
Can’t breathe, can’t fit in, overwhelmed and I can’t seem to shake it.
(“here is a suggestion…”)
Sure, you seem nice, like super nice actually, nice voice anyway?
(“roll over onto your back“)
Huh???
Sounds strange but I’ll give it a try.
Okay here goes….hey I feel better already.
(“ I knew you would”)
(“glory bumps?”)
(“tingly all over?”)
Yeah…how’d you know?
(“you even sound better now”)
Who are you anyway, how do you know these things?
(“you’ll learn in due time, that help has arrived”)
I don’t get it, I’ve always felt looked down on, could never seem to fit in anywhere no matter how hard I tried. But not while I’m talking to you, it‘s like I‘ve always known you.
Now I sound strange.
(“you were looked down on and in on in ways you can’t understand right now”)
(“I was leaning over you, extending my hand to you”)
(“I saw your outstretched hand, your fingers a tenuous dance as you fumbled through the darkness of uncertainty“)
(“I sent many to help you but they couldn’t deliver you from your own choices, they sowed seeds in other’s who were ready instead”)
What do you mean ”deliver me?”
Do I look like a pizza to You?
Do you work for fedex, I don’t get it?
What others’?
I’m not understanding you, I‘m not following what you say you sound just like a “Bible” come to Life but spoken rather than read and just like that book, I can’t get a single thing you are saying.
(Precisely! But you will, you’ve already begun a new journey)
I’m afraid of heights!!
No planes, no flying for me !!
I’m not going anywhere!!
(“I’ll tell you something else, a long time ago someone hurt you. You were but a child then. You were wounded deeply, then lied to. Told you were worthless and you believed it”)
I don’t know you and that’s not something I care to discuss anymore, how’d you know that, who told you ?!
(“he’s called the father of lies, he seized the opportunity while you were blinded and weakened. Kept whispering in your mind…)
(“You are drowning…”)
(“You are drowning…”)
(“But I held you safely in the palm of my hand the whole time“)
Oh Lord… I remember now. I was confused, angry, lost, affected and affecting!
Wandering, stumbling, in the wilderness aimlessly like a wild animal just trying to survive.
(“forty years almost to the day”)
(“you were imprisoned”)
A couple of times just overnight, misdemeanors is all.
(“here is The Truth, but first gird your loins”)
(“now I will allow you to see the Truth”)
No…!!
Oh no…! That can’t be ?!
That’s not me !!
(“courage…truth can be painful but it will also set you free”)
But… But…. all these years, facedown… In a few inches of water?
Really??
(“drowning in tears of self pity to be exact”)
What a fool I’ve been! I feel like my guts were ripped out!
(“that’s because, in a manner of speaking…they were”)
At the time I couldn’t feel a thing, I’m grateful to you for showing me the truth. Though not liking who I was, feeling something now I can’t describe because I’ve never felt it before, not like this…not this real.
(“good…that’s a start”)
(“now, take my hand, stand up and walk”)
(“listen carefully, I have to leave now but I’m going to be sending you some new clothes”)
(“as soon as they arrive, take off the old and put on the new”)
(“burn the old in a fire”)
Okay, I will…promise.
Thank you,
I..?
I..?
Love you?
Yes!
I love you !!
(“I love you too, now then…don’t forget to take off those soggy socks”)
Huh?
What socks?
Hey, where’d you go?
Come back please.
It’s dark again…
I’m afraid of the dark don’t go please.
What do you mean?
What soggy socks?
I don’t get it?
I have so many questions, please…please…
BEEP….BEEP…BEEP….BEEP….BEEP….BEEP….BEEP….!!!!
Oh no, late for work again, whew strange dreams all night, didn’t sleep well at all.
YAWN…so tired.
Time to get up.
No you didn’t !
You did not !
Yes you did !
Peanut ?!
Bad beagle, go get in your crate…go…right now missy !
I don’t have time for this….
Better go find something to clean this up with, (squeak)….(squishy)…now where’s that (squishy)…(squeak)…(squeak)…mop?
I better get these noisy “soggy socks” off first.
(“wet socks?”)
Huh?
Naaaah… Who would believe it if I told them anyway?
Love you,
With all my heart.

• anthony gomez