Warm Your Hunny's Heart With These 99 Romantic Love Poems for Him and Her

Maryn Liles

March 7, 2023 at 11:28 PM·45 min read

Share your love through poetry.

People often say poetry is the language of love. And if you read these romantic love poems for him and her, you'll instantly see why.

From famous love poems by Shakespeare, Dickinson and other greats to short love poems perfect for any occasion, this giant list of the best love poems for men and women has it all.

So whether you're looking for short love poems for him you write in an anniversary card or want to make your woman swoon by sharing the best love poems for her, these romantic love poems for him and her will help you tell your hunny exactly how much they mean to you.

Best Love Poems

1. Music tumbled from her pretty lips and when she spoke the language of the universe—the stars sighed in unison. —Michael Faudet

2. There is a place of peace
There is a place of joy
A place away from loneliness
A place away from pain
That place is next to you
A secret garden
Where black and white becomes a colorful place
Of loving, kisses, touching, caressing,
There with you and only you
Cares of the world melting away
Anger and fear are not allowed
Prejudice cannot enter
A place where two hearts beat as one
A place where two souls are interwoven,
Touching the inner-place of one another
A place that I long to come back to again and again
A place of sweet abandon
A place next to you
— Rocky Stonehedge

3. What sound was that?
I turn away, into the shaking room.
What was that sound that came in on the dark?
What is this maze of light it leaves us in?
What is this stance we take,
To turn away and then turn back?
What did we hear?
It was the breath we took when we first met.
Listen. It is here.
— Harold Pinter

4. You gave light to my soul

You helped me to be whole
I have felt love for you before
And it will be more and more,
You are mine, my dear
You are the angel from above
Who taught me how to love.
Please, forever keep me near.
— Anonymous

5. When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
— William Butler Yeats

6. Though the sun sets and finalizes another day,
It leaves us with an array of color and hope,
Hope that a new day will come,
Hope that life with you will continue to be as beautiful
As it is now.
It fills my heart with gladness knowing that
Though the sun is being replaced with night,
When I lay my head to rest,
You will be by my side,
Comforting me tonight.
— Aaron Stone

7. I don't think you will
Ever fully understand
How you touched my life
And made me who I am.
You are the keeper of my dreams,
The man who holds my heart,
The one I want to spend my life with,
The one with whom I will always stand.
Stand beside through thick and thin
Through all that life throws our way
Knowing that this special love we share
Will guide us each and every day.
I don't think you could ever feel
All the love I have to give,
And I'm sure you never realize
You've been my will to live.
— Stephanie Schiavone

8. I can only hope for this loving grace,
To continue and never end.
You are more than I have ever deserved,
I cannot even comprehend.
I love you more than I probably share,
May you understand and see this truth.
I always have and always will,
Now in my prime, started in my youth.
— Anonymous

9. Drink to me only with thine eyes
And I will pledge with mine.
Or leave a kiss but in the cup
And I’ll not look for wine.
The thirst that from the soul doth rise
Doth ask a drink divine;
But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much hon’ring thee As giving it a hope that there
It could not withered be;
But thou thereon did’st only breathe,
And sent’st it back to me,
Since when it grows and smells, I swear
Not of itself, but thee.
— Ben Johnson

10. Escape me?

Never—
Beloved!
While I am I, and you are you,
So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth,
While the one eludes, must the other pursue.
My life is a fault at last, I fear—
It seems too much like a fate, indeed!
Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed—
But what if I fail of my purpose here?
It is but to keep the nerves at strain,
To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall,
And baffled, get up to begin again,—
So the chase takes up one's life, that's all.
While, look but once from your farthest bound,
At me so deep in the dust and dark,
No sooner the old hope drops to ground
Than a new one, straight to the selfsame mark,
I shape me—
Ever
Removed!
— Robert Browning

11. You brought me sunshine
when I only saw rain.
You brought me laughter
when I only felt pain.
Romantics at heart?
Love at first sight?
Have I known you before?
God! This feels so right!
Have I met you before?
Another time, another place?
If it's only one night,
will it bring us disgrace?
What are these feelings?
Must they be temporary?
Just to make you happy
seems so necessary.
I want you to know,
'cause I'll never forget -
knowing your smile,
your kisses and yet...
Dreams are something,
that can't always come true,
nothing more we can say,
nothing more we can do.
— Donna Donathan

12. A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness:
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction--
An erring lace, which here and there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher--
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbands to flow confusedly--
A winning wave, deserving note,
In the tempestuous petticoat--
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility--
Do more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part.
— Robert Herrick

13. At last, when all the summer shine
That warmed life’s early hours is past,
Your loving fingers seek for mine
And hold them close - at last - at last!
Not loft the robin comes to build
Its nest upon the leafless bough
By autumn robbed, by winter chilled, -
But you, dear heart, you love me now.
Though there are shadows on my brow
And furrows on my cheek, in truth, -
The marks where Time’s remorseless plough
Broke up the blooming sward of Youth, -
Though fled is every girlish grace
Might win or hold a lover’s vow,
Despite my sad and faded face,
And darkened heart, you love me now!
I count no more my wasted tears;
They left no echo of their fall;
I mourn no more my lonesome years;
This blessed hour atones for all.
I fear not all that Time or Fate
May bring to burden heart or brow, -
Strong in the love that came so late,
Our souls shall keep it always now!
— Elizabeth Akers Allen

14. Why is it that my heart still skips a beat, every time I feel your touch? How is it that someone so wonderful, let’s me love them oh so very much?
— Anonymous

15. I wish I could remember that first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or Winter for aught I can say;
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many a May …
— Christina Rossetti

16. A stranger came to the door at eve,
And he spoke the bridegroom fair.
He bore a green-white stick in his hand,
And, for all burden, care.
He asked with the eyes more than the lips
For a shelter for the night,
And he turned and looked at the road afar
Without a window light.
The bridegroom came forth into the porch
With, 'Let us look at the sky,
And question what of the night to be,
Stranger, you and I.'
The woodbine leaves littered the yard,
The woodbine berries were blue,
Autumn, yes, winter was in the wind;
'Stranger, I wish I knew.'
Within, the bride in the dusk alone
Bent over the open fire,
Her face rose-red with the glowing coal
And the thought of the heart's desire.
The bridegroom looked at the weary road,
Yet saw but her within,
And wished her heart in a case of gold
And pinned with a silver pin.
The bridegroom thought it little to give
A dole of bread, a purse,
A heartfelt prayer for the poor of God,
Or for the rich a curse;
But whether or not a man was asked
To mar the love of two
By harboring woe in the bridal house,
The bridegroom wished he knew.
— Robert Frost

17. The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.
Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!
— Robert Browning

18. O my Luve is like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody
That’s sweetly played in tune.
So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only luve!
And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again, my luve,
Though it were ten thousand mile.
— Robert Burns

19. This is a word we use to plug
holes with. It's the right size for those warm
blanks in speech, for those red heart-
shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing
like real hearts. Add lace
and you can sell
it. We insert it also in the one empty
space on the printed form
that comes with no instructions. There are whole
magazines with not much in them
but the word love, you can
rub it all over your body and you
can cook with it too. How do we know
it isn't what goes on at the cool
debaucheries of slugs under damp
pieces of cardboard? As for the weed-
seedlings nosing their tough snouts up
among the lettuces, they shout it.
Love! Love! sing the soldiers, raising
their glittering knives in salute.
Then there's the two
of us. This word
is far too short for us, it has only
four letters, too sparse
to fill those deep bare
vacuums between the stars
that press on us with their deafness.
It's not love we don't wish
to fall into, but that fear.
this word is not enough but it will
have to do. It's a single
vowel in this metallic
silence, a mouth that says
O again and again in wonder
and pain, a breath, a finger
grip on a cliffside. You can
hold on or let go.
— Margaret Atwood

20. How does Love speak?
In the faint flush upon the telltale cheek,
And in the pallor that succeeds it; by
The quivering lid of an averted eye--
The smile that proves the parent to a sigh
Thus doth Love speak.
How does Love speak?
By the uneven heart-throbs, and the freak
Of bounding pulses that stand still and ache,
While new emotions, like strange barges, make
Along vein-channels their disturbing course;
Still as the dawn, and with the dawn's swift force--
Thus doth Love speak.
How does Love speak?
In the avoidance of that which we seek--
The sudden silence and reserve when near--
The eye that glistens with an unshed tear--
The joy that seems the counterpart of fear,
As the alarmed heart leaps in the breast,
And knows, and names, and greets its godlike guest--
Thus doth Love speak.
How does Love speak?
In the proud spirit suddenly grown meek--
The haughty heart grown humble; in the tender
And unnamed light that floods the world with splendor;
In the resemblance which the fond eyes trace
In all fair things to one beloved face;
In the shy touch of hands that thrill and tremble;
In looks and lips that can no more dissemble--
Thus doth Love speak.
How does Love speak?
In the wild words that uttered seem so weak
They shrink ashamed in silence; in the fire
Glance strikes with glance, swift flashing high and higher,
Like lightnings that precede the mighty storm;
In the deep, soulful stillness; in the warm,
Impassioned tide that sweeps through throbbing veins,
Between the shores of keen delights and pains;
In the embrace where madness melts in bliss,
And in the convulsive rapture of a kiss—
Thus doth Love speak.
—Ella Wheeler Wilcox

21. The shine on her buckle took precedence in sun
Her shine, I should say, could take me anywhere
It feels right to be up this close in tight wind
It feels right to notice all the shiny things about you
About you there is nothing I wouldn’t want to know
With you nothing is simple yet nothing is simpler
About you many good things come into relation
I think of proofs and grammar, vowel sounds, like
A is for knee socks, E for panties
I is for buttondown, O the blouse you wear
U is for hair clip, and Y your tight skirt
The music picks up again, I am the man I hope to be
The bright air hangs freely near your newly cut hair
It is so easy now to see gravity at work in your face
Easy to understand time, that dark process
To accept it as a beautiful process, your face
—Peter Gizzi

22. Before you came things were just what they were:
the road precisely a road, the horizon fixed,
the limit of what could be seen,
a glass of wine was no more than a glass of wine.
With you the world took on the spectrum
radiating from my heart: your eyes gold
as they open to me, slate the color
that falls each time I lost all hope.
With your advent roses burst into flame:
you were the artist of dried-up leaves, sorceress
who flicked her wrist to change dust into soot.
You lacquered the night black.
As for the sky, the road, the cup of wine:
one was my tear-drenched shirt,
the other an aching nerve,
the third a mirror that never reflected the same thing.
Now you are here again—stay with me.
This time things will fall into place;
the road can be the road,
the sky nothing but sky;
the glass of wine, as it should be, the glass of wine.
— Faiz Ahmed Faiz

23. Again and again, however we know the landscape of love
and the little churchyard there, with its sorrowing names,
and the frighteningly silent abyss into which the others
fall: again and again the two of us walk out together
under the ancient trees, lie down again and again
among the flowers, face to face with the sky.
— Rainer Maria Rilke

24. It's neither red
nor sweet.
It doesn't melt
or turn over,
break or harden,
so it can't feel
pain,
yearning,
regret.
It doesn't have
a tip to spin on,
it isn't even
shapely—
just a thick clutch
of muscle,
lopsided,
mute. Still,
I feel it inside
its cage sounding
a dull tattoo:
I want, I want—
but I can't open it:
there's no key.
I can't wear it
on my sleeve,
or tell you from
the bottom of it
how I feel. Here,
it's all yours, now—
but you'll have
to take me,
too.
— Rita Dove

25. I am yours as the summer air at evening is
Possessed by the scent of linden blossoms,
As the snowcap gleams with light
Lent it by the brimming moon.
Without you I'd be an unleafed tree
Blasted in a bleakness with no Spring.
Your love is the weather of my being.
What is an island without the sea?
— Daniel Hoffman

Love Poems for Her

26. Your lips so soft and red,
the thought of kissing you is stuck in my head.
Your beauty so bright and warm,
shining through the darkest storm.
Your eyes sparkle like stars in the night sky.
When I stare into them I feel like I am soaring high.
My love for you is pure and true.
I never stop thinking of you.
The sound of your voice saying, “I love you,” makes my heart pound,
because I know my one and only I’ve truly found.
I promise to love you for every moment of forever,
and when everything else crumbles, I will never.
I am your armor to protect you from harm,
like you are to me, a lucky charm.
For you are my heart, my soul.
Baby, you are my whole world.
— Jamie Emm

27. I am far from solid core,
far from the plane ride to paradise,
far from the sodium dream,
but I am here
and here
I am looking around.
— From "Far and Here" by Allison Grayhurst

28. Without you I am incomplete, never have I missed someone so, my arms long to hold you tight, and I’ll never let you go. Your face, your lips, your soul, your heart, please promise me we’ll never again be apart. For without you, I am but a shell, you are my heaven and without you is hell.
— Anonymous

29. How much good inside a day?
Depends how good you live ‘em.
How much love inside a friend?
Depends how much you give ‘em”
— Shel Silverstein

30. My love is as a fever, longing still
For that which longer nurseth the disease,
Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,
Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please.
My reason, the physician to my love,
Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,
Hath left me, and I desperate now approve
Desire is death, which physic did except.
Past cure I am, now reason is past care,
And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;
My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are,
At random from the truth vainly expressed:
For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.
— William Shakespeare

31. I promise to Love you through the good times and bad
I’ll Love you when I’m angry, hurt and mad
Love is a choice I’ve made to devote my life
To making you, my world, my wife
Nothing will ever change that choice that I’ve made
Even when we feel our Love start to fade
It’s inside my soul, and nothing can shake
My Love for you, that’s a promise I won’t break
— Sean Short

32. I’ll plant a row of daisy seeds,
In the space below each eye,
So they’ll remind you of your beauty,
When they bloom each time you cry.
— Anonymous

33. 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 more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know,
That music hath a far more pleasing sound.
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
— William Shakespeare

34. I know a girl who is better than strawberry.
She is farther than the grand white Fujiyama.
She is purer than the water of the wholly Suraj Tal
From where the stream of Chandra flows down
The gorgeous heights of the Himalayas.
She is the spring of joy to me.
– Kabir Raichand

35. Her body is not so white as
anemone petals nor so smooth—nor
so remote a thing. It is a field
of the wild carrot taking
the field by force; the grass
does not raise above it.
Here is no question of whiteness,
white as can be, with a purple mole
at the center of each flower.
Each flower is a hand’s span
of her whiteness. Wherever
his hand has lain there is
a tiny purple blossom under his touch
to which the fibres of her being
stem one by one, each to its end,
until the whole field is a
white desire, empty, a single stem,
a cluster, flower by flower,
a pious wish to whiteness gone over—
or nothing.
— William Carlos Williams

36. I have been blessed, I live only for your happiness, for you my love, I will give you my last breath.
— Anonymous

37. She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
— Lord Byron

38. It’s all I have to bring today—
This, and my heart beside—
This, and my heart, and all the fields—
And all the meadows wide—
Be sure you count—should I forget
Some one the sum could tell—
This, and my heart, and all the Bees
Which in the Clover dwell.
— Emily Dickenson

39. Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For so the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.
Come, as thou cam'st a thousand times,
A messenger from radiant climes,
And smile on thy new world, and be
As kind to others as to me!
Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth,
Come now, and let me dream it truth,
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,
And say, My love why sufferest thou?
Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For so the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.
— Matthew Arnold

40. The Nymph that undoes me, is fair and unkind;
No less than a wonder by Nature designed.
She's the grief of my heart, the joy of my eye;
And the cause of a flame that never can die!
Her mouth, from whence wit still obligingly flows,
Has the beautiful blush, and the smell, of the rose.
Love and Destiny both attend on her will;
She wounds with a look; with a frown, she can kill!
The desperate Lover can hope no redress;
Where Beauty and Rigour are both in excess!
In Sylvia they meet; so unhappy am I!
Who sees her, must love; and who loves her, must die!
— George Etherege

41. Before I met you,
I felt that I couldn’t love anyone,
That nobody would be able to fill the void in my heart,
But that all changed when I met you.
Then I came to realize you were always on my mind.
You’re funny and sweet.
You make me laugh and smile.
You take away all my anger and sadness.
You make me weak when I talk to you.
Then I started to write poems about you.
Now I have come to realize that I am hopelessly in love with you.
— Keith Hank

42. When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.
Offering me, as to a child, an attic,
Gatherings of days too few.
Baubles of stolen kisses.
Trinkets of borrowed loves.
Trunks of secret words,
I CRY.
— Maya Angelou

43. What do I see in you? Oh boy. Oh boy,
I see mountains and rivers a lifetime of joy,
I see the sun shining on the greyest day,
I see clouds of silver lining my way,
What do I see in you? Oceans of blue,
Colourful rainbows, morning dew,
Trees of glory displaying leaves of green,
I see goodness and beauty in all living things.
I hear creatures of darkness prowling the night,
But I'm safe in your arms as you hold me real tight,
I feel the whispers of the wind entwining my soul,
I feel you breathing, that makes me whole.
I hear the rain falling, and the sun on my face,
I feel the shadows of darkness as me you embrace,
I feel happiness and laughter tears and sorrow,
But without you my love there would be no tomorrow.
I feel thunder and lightning, whenever you're near,
I feel whispers of love wind brings to my ear,
But of all of the things that nature may bring,
It's your love I cherish above everything.
— Shelagh Bullman

44. When I feel the warmth in her heart
I know she is the one from whom I shall never depart
When I rest my head on her knees
I can weave a future of dreams
As my love, I silently profess
To my darling Princess.
— Anonymous

45. She had the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen
And it took only her laugh to realize
that beauty was the least of her.
— Atticus

46. One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away:
Again I wrote it with a second hand,
But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.
"Vain man," said she, "that dost in vain assay,
A mortal thing so to immortalize;
For I myself shall like to this decay,
And eke my name be wiped out likewise."
"Not so," (quod I) "let baser things devise
To die in dust, but you shall live by fame:
My verse your vertues rare shall eternize,
And in the heavens write your glorious name:
Where whenas death shall all the world subdue,
Our love shall live, and later life renew."
— Edmund Spenser

47. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
—William Shakespeare

48. I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams
—Pablo Neruda

49. You will come one day in a waver of love,
Tender as dew, impetuous as rain,
The tan of the sun will be on your skin,
The purr of the breeze in your murmuring speech,
You will pose with a hill-flower grace.
You will come, with your slim, expressive arms,
A poise of the head no sculptor has caught
And nuances spoken with shoulder and neck,
Your face in pass-and-repass of moods
As many as skies in delicate change
Of cloud and blue and flimmering sun.
Yet,
You may not come, O girl of a dream,
We may but pass as the world goes by
And take from a look of eyes into eyes,
A film of hope and a memoried day.
— Carl Sandburg

50. For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,
Brightly expressive as the twins of Loeda,
Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies
Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.
Search narrowly the lines!—they hold a treasure
Divine—a talisman—an amulet
That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure—
The words—the syllables! Do not forget
The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor!
And yet there is in this no Gordian knot
Which one might not undo without a sabre,
If one could merely comprehend the plot.
Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering
Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus
Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing
Of poets, by poets—as the name is a poet’s, too.
Its letters, although naturally lying
Like the knight Pinto—Mendez Ferdinando—
Still form a synonym for Truth—Cease trying!
You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do.
— Edgar Allan Poe

Love Poems for Him

51. A glimpse through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremarked seated in a corner,
Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,
A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.
— Walt Whitman

52. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
— Elizabeth Barret Browning
My love for you is like the raging sea,
So powerful and deep it will forever be.
Through storm, wind, and heavy rain,
It will withstand every pain.
Our hearts are so pure and love so sweet.
I love you more with every heartbeat!
— Elaine Chetty

53. I'm jealous of the morning sun
That gets to be the first to see you
Or the coffee cup
Who gets to kiss your sleepy lips awake
— Anonymous

54. Who’s deeply in love with you
a person who would sail any sea
all of that he would do, just for you
He’s not afraid of anything
completely nothing at all
because for you he will conquer all his fears
to save you from all those tears
This person I wish to bring out someday
so I can finally say
this three words I keep deep inside me
which has been trying to break free
I know the time will come
when I can finally tell you
this three wonderful words which are
I Love You
— James Toles

55. You and I
Have so much love,
That it
Burns like a fire,
In which we bake a lump of clay
Molded into a figure of you
And a figure of me.
Then we take both of them,
And break them into pieces,
And mix the pieces with water,
And mold again a figure of you,
And a figure of me.
I am in your clay.
You are in my clay.
In life we share a single quilt.
In death we will share one bed.
— Kuan Tao-Sheng

56. My lips are full of kisses
they pucker and plump when you are near,
This pair isn't happy until your lipstick we smear,
My lips are full of kisses
even now they move your way
for the promise of heaven is just a kiss away!
— Anonymous

57. Life has taught us that love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction.
— Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

58. To some stranger you might be nothing at all.
But to me you are why I wake up in the mornings,
You are the reason why am not crying anymore.
You were the gentle man that came along,
And put together the pieces of me someone else had made.
Every time our lips meet it's like we have made a trip around the universe,
Just me and you looking down on everyone else.
I know whenever those 3 words are going to be said it will be heaven on earth,
I will melt to the soil beneath your feet.
But now even being reminded you like me calls those butterfly's to my stomach.
It's like your voice has a secret code for the butterflies all over the earth,
Every time you speak they always show up.
Just remember,
To a stranger you might mean nothing at all.
But to me you're my butterfly whisperer,
My smile.
— Alisha Manion

59. I think I was searching for treasures or stones
in the clearest of pools
when your face…
when your face,
like the moon in a well
where I might wish…
might well wish
for the iced fire of your kiss;
only on water my lips, where your face…
where your face was reflected, lovely,
not really there when I turned
to look behind at the emptying air…
the emptying air.
— Carol Ann Duffy

60. Do you remember still the falling stars
that like swift horses through the heavens raced
and suddenly leaped across the hurdles
of our wishes—do you recall? And we
did make so many! For there were countless numbers
of stars: each time we looked above we were
astounded by the swiftness of their daring play,
while in our hearts we felt safe and secure
watching these brilliant bodies disintegrate,
knowing somehow we had survived their fall.
— Maria Wilke

61. Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That’s all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
– William Butler Yeats

62. How is it that you are real? My dreams never created something like you. I still have to pinch myself, because I’m amazed you are true.
— Anonymous

63. Night casts eerie shadows upon the wall,
distorting the reality tonight.
Plagued by diseased images of the mind,
I toss and turn in my fitful slumber.
Darkness clouds my mind like ink to water,
spreading till everything remains black.
Eyelids flutter until I have awakened,
startled into the silhouettes that are
this room. Fear creeps over my shoulder, but
there is nothing to fear, for my angel lies
sleeping beside me. Safely tucked beneath
his wings, I may slumber onward tonight,
with his warmth burying me so sweetly.
A serene calm brushes over my cheek,
allowing sleep to follow it softly.
— Alexandra

64. I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
— P.Neruda

65. If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.
Thy love is such I can no way repay;
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let’s so persever,
That when we live no more, we may live ever.
— Anne Bradstreet

66. I love your lips when they’re wet with wine
And red with a wild desire;
I love your eyes when the lovelight lies
Lit with a passionate fire.
I love your arms when the warm white flesh
Touches mine in a fond embrace;
I love your hair when the strands enmesh
Your kisses against my face.
Not for me the cold, calm kiss
Of a virgin’s bloodless love;
Not for me the saint’s white bliss,
Nor the heart of a spotless dove.
But give me the love that so freely gives
And laughs at the whole world’s blame,
With your body so young and warm in my arms,
It sets my poor heart aflame.
So kiss me sweet with your warm wet mouth,
Still fragrant with ruby wine,
And say with a fervor born of the South
That your body and soul are mine.
Clasp me close in your warm young arms,
While the pale stars shine above,
And we’ll live our whole young lives away
In the joys of a living love.
— Ella Wheeler Wilcox

67. I loved you first: but afterwards your love
Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? my love was long,
And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;
I loved and guessed at you, you construed me
And loved me for what might or might not be –
Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.
For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’
With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,
For one is both and both are one in love:
Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’
Both have the strength and both the length thereof,
Both of us, of the love which makes us one.
— Christina Rossetti

68. When I die I want your hands on my eyes:
I want the light and the wheat of your beloved hands
to pass their freshness over me one more time
to feel the smoothness that changed my destiny.
I want you to live while I wait for you, asleep,
I want for your ears to go on hearing the wind,
for you to smell the sea that we loved together
and for you to go on walking the sand where we walked.
I want for what I love to go on living
and as for you I loved you and sang you above everything,
for that, go on flowering, flowery one,
so that you reach all that my love orders for you,
so that my shadow passes through your hair,
so that they know by this the reason for my song.
— Pablo Neruda

69. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.
— Sylvia Plath

70. To be in love
Is to touch with a lighter hand.
In yourself you stretch, you are well.
You look at things
Through his eyes.
A cardinal is red.
A sky is blue.
Suddenly you know he knows too.
He is not there but
You know you are tasting together
The winter, or a light spring weather.
His hand to take your hand is overmuch.
Too much to bear.
You cannot look in his eyes
Because your pulse must not say
What must not be said.
When he
Shuts a door-
Is not there—
Your arms are water.
And you are free
With a ghastly freedom.
You are the beautiful half
Of a golden hurt.
You remember and covet his mouth
To touch, to whisper on.
Oh when to declare
Is certain Death!
Oh when to apprize
Is to mesmerize,
To see fall down, the Column of Gold,
Into the commonest ash.
—Gwendolyn Brooks

71. You have changed me already. I am a fireball
That is hurtling towards the sky to where you are
You can choose not to look up but I am a giant orange ball
That is throwing sparks upon your face
Oh look at them shake
Upon you like a great planet that has been murdered by change
O too this is so dramatic this shaking
Of my great planet that is bigger than you thought it would be
So you ran and hid
Under a large tree. She was graceful, I think
That tree although soon she will wither
Into ten black snakes upon your throat
And when she does I will be wandering as I always am
A graceful lady that is part museum
Of the voices of the universe everyone else forgets
I will hold your voice in a little box
And when you come upon me I won’t look back at you
You will feel a hand upon your heart while I place your voice back
Into the heart from where it came from
And I will not cry also
Although you will expect me to
I was wiser too than you had expected
For I knew all along you were mine
— Dorothea Lasky

72. Sun makes the day new.
Tiny green plants emerge from earth.
Birds are singing the sky into place.
There is nowhere else I want to be but here.
I lean into the rhythm of your heart to see where it will take us.
We gallop into a warm, southern wind.
I link my legs to yours and we ride together,
Toward the ancient encampment of our relatives.
Where have you been? they ask.
And what has taken you so long?
That night after eating, singing, and dancing
We lay together under the stars.
We know ourselves to be part of mystery.
It is unspeakable.
It is everlasting.
It is for keeps.
— Joy Harjo

73. Romance, who loves to nod and sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been—a most familiar bird—
Taught me my alphabet to say—
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child—with a most knowing eye.
Of late, eternal Condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky.
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings—
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away—forbidden things!
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.
— Edgar Allan Poe

74. My desire
is always the same; wherever Life
deposits me:
I want to stick my toe
& soon my whole body
into the water.
I want to shake out a fat broom
& sweep dried leaves
bruised blossoms
dead insects
& dust.
I want to grow
something.
It seems impossible that desire
can sometimes transform into devotion;
but this has happened.
And that is how I’ve survived:
how the hole
I carefully tended
in the garden of my heart
grew a heart
to fill it.
— Alice Walker

75. I loved you for a million years, I’ll love you a million more, from this day on I promise you, you’re all that I adore.
— Anonymous

Short Love Poems

76. I keep myself busy
with the things I do,
But every time I pause,
I still think of you.
— Unknown

77. I thank God for you, for you my dreams came true, I am lucky to have married you, even if you ask me everyday I’ll always say I do.
— Anonymous

78. All I can
ever ask of you is
to stay.
Just stay.
— Unknown

79. I carry your heart with me ( I carry it in
my heart) I am never without it (anywhere
I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling) I fear
no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet) Iwant
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)
— E. E. Cummings

80. How Do I Love Thee? (Sonnet 43)

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
—Elizabeth Barrett Browning

81. L is for ‘laughter’ we had along the way.
O is for ‘optimism’ you gave me every day.
V is for ‘value’ of being my best friend.
E is for ‘eternity,’ a love that has no end.
— John P. Reid

82. Ricky was "L" but he's home with the flu,
Lizzie, our "O," had some homework to do,
Mitchell, "E" prob'ly got lost on the way,
So I'm all of love that could make it today.
— Shel Silverstein

83. The sky was lit
by the splendor of the moon
So powerful
I fell to the ground
Your love
has made me sure
I am ready to forsake
this worldly life
and surrender
to the magnificence
of your Being
— Rumi

84. As nectar fills the flower,
giving sustenance to the bee,
I need you every hour,
to give your love to me.
— Anonymous

85. If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were loved by wife, then thee;
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me ye women if you can …
— Anna Bradstreet

86. I don’t need just one day to celebrate our love,
I get to do that every day.
Through kisses, hugs and daily talks,
Nothing can make me stay away.
— Anonymous

87. Love isn’t where we hide our ghosts. Love is where we release them.
— Pavana Reddy

88. Every day I love you more, you will be forever what I adore, you are my joy, my treasure, my heart, today, tomorrow, forever we will never be apart.
— Anonymous

89. I will love you,
Not starting with
Your skin or
Your organs or
Your bones:
I will love madly first,
Your naked soul.
— Christopher Poindexter

90. My love for you rides mountains,
So many ups and downs, emotions soar.
But one thing never changes,
My love for you, I cannot ignore.
— Anonymous

91. If ever we shall perish
and become but specks
of dust, I hope the wind
carries us away to that
place you've always loved.
— R.M. Broderick Poetry

92. Roses are red
Violets are blue
Damn.
Let me kiss you.
— Unknown

93. I would love to say
that you make me
weak in the knees,
But to be quite upfront,
and completely
Truthful, you make my body forget
it has knees at all.
— Tyler Knott Gregson

94. But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
— Edgar Allan Poe

95. In all the world there is
no heart for me like yours.
In all the world there is
no love for you like mine.
— Maya Angelou

96. Come lay with me. I wanna talk about nothing with someone that means something.
— Unknown

97. You are always
ticking inside of me
and I dream of you
more often
than I don't.
— Unknown

98. I keep myself busy
with the things I do,
But every time I pause,
I still think of you.
— Unknown

99. It is hard to describe the feeling of love
The feeling of your heart skipping a beat
Or of flying like that of a dove
These are the feelings I have when we meet.
— Anonymous

Fuel your romance even more and get inspired by these 75 Esther Perel quotes on love and relationships.

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Warm Your Hunny's Heart With These 99 Romantic Love Poems for Him and Her

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