Love Poetry

I love poetry. And I'm not the only one. It has touched everyone, even if they don't realize it. A love poem is described simply as a poem about love, but it can be much, much more. For me, it is about the experience. A love poem allows me to get away from reality and view the wonder of romance. It gives me wings when I am grounded and helps me get into that romantic mood.

Of course, there have been many famous love poems throughout history, but the truly great ones stick with us for our entire lives and our children's lives. Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Emily Dickinson, and Edgar Allan Poe are just a few who have written such masterpieces.

It is more than just a poem

Love poetry is a poem about love. However, the same poem can touch our heart and fling it across the ocean. It lives within us, our friends, and our family.

They can be written for Valentine's day, for anniversaries, or just to say "I love you." They are love. They are ourselves.

The same poem may be sung allowed, read alone, or read out loud. Nothing restricts it and nothing can take away from it.

A poem it is, but it is also much more.

A poem by me

You are me,

I am you,

But without you

I am nothing

As you can see, the length doesn't matter. The only true aspect a poem must have is to convey a meaning. If it conveys love, it is a love poem. This example may not be the best, because it was written by me. However, it is mine and shows love.

I am an avid reader of love poems, both amateur and professional.

Although I am extremely biased towards poets of the 19th century, that does not dampen the greatness of other generations. Poets such as Walt Whitman, Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickinson, and Elizabeth Barrett Browning will forever be my favorites. Nonetheless, Shakespeare and the common era equivalents are not overlooked.

The next three poems are perhaps my favorite of my favorite, and I'm sure you have at least heard of them. They are classics and will forever be charished in English literature.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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 candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love with a 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.

Emily Dickinson

Heart, we will forget him,

You and I, tonight!

You must forget the warmth he gave,

I will forget the light.

When you have done pray tell me,

Then I, my thoughts, will dim.

Haste! 'lest while you're lagging

I may remember him!

Edgar Allan Poe

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of ANNABEL LEE;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea;

But we loved with a love that was more than love

I and my Annabel Lee;

With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsman came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,

Went envying her and me

Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

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.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling - my darling - my life and my bride,

In the sepulchre there by the sea,

In her tomb by the sounding sea.