Ladylove poems bring the best collection of short and long ladylove poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great ladylove rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these ladylove poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on ladylove are here for you.
Since long I have been yearning to get lost on your sensuous lips my voluptuous desires are burning to feel them with scrumptious kiss With adolescence gesture you mesmerized and allured me to float into your sexy eyes with your
Selfish and Disrespectful! (If He would’ve only Known) He did the best he could, Sometimes love just isn’t enough, Along with basically a free ride & only his income. Its called love! Some people just don’t get it All he
Crestfallen tears mixed with the salty brine of the expansive ocean. Time seemed to pause, as if for one brief fleeting second. He took a plunge into the icy deep. Happily submerging himself in the inviting energizing enrapturing emerald liquid.
The descent starts with a dance, of tears and fire. A culture of lids lowers the salt, the silver, the gems. Antithesis to cremate a golden ascent. The night long vigil had a naked puff. It will roll now in
Rene Descartes said “Cogito ergo sum” “I think therefor I am”. This is true regardless of our reality. Conscious of being is true regardless our reality, be it corporeal or digital. We may live in a computer simulation, but “Cogito
Man is man’s foe, Woman is woman’s foe. But a child is a child’s pal. Innocent wins innocent – Knowledge defeats knowledge, Widens the gap between the wise men, Wrecking their heads, To satisfy their revenge! One that burns the
Morning by morning, They plough the road From east to west Knowing not where they head They take not a cue From the words of Dr. Kwame Nkrumah, “We move neither to the east nor west but we move forward”
Church bells ring The choir sings Songs of praise Ancient of days Stained glass colors Arched cross hovers His mighty power A strong high tower Wooden pews Lilly flowers Sunshine and April showers A merciful God The children applaud Before
Bring me no more ambrosia, please, no more, Nor fill my cup, with sweet nectar to drink, Of Graces’ dances, spare me no encore, And Muses’ songs next time, not now, I think; Tell Apollo to mute his lyre today,
Since I have seen you, I have been infected With tormented love to you, and I have been Tortured by mysterious executioner. He is invisible, only felt. At every evening, Before sleep, he whips a dagger into my heart, And
In pretence they came , They promised to pay your ransom. They lured you to their tent, With their mouth full of bitter honey. They are lions in the heart , In physique they are sheep. On getting to their
What can sound better than birds? Chirping on a bright sunny morning. And clouds dancing without a care, In the hazy sky above. What can look better than flowers? Blooming in all their glory and fragrance. And bees hovering above
Those days the sun flew over me like corn flour, freshly ground at the millrace. Even in winter it was yellow when I pressed it down with my thumb, like an unfastened button on my chest. I could hardly cut
Christmas is a time for joyful hearts and hopeful eyes, as we reflect on times past and look forward to surprise. Put aside petty squabbles and pointless vendetta’s and ask ourselves truly, are we really no better? Spread out your
It was indeed orchestrated by providence, for two hypnotized by love on social media. It was indeed the innovation of the times that united two once unbeknownst to each other. Separated by tongue, culture, values and distance. A French kiss
Rows and rows of books wearing pressed monogrammed jackets aligned at attention upon the shelves edges stained lightly by time. To wring out one more droplet of thought from drying script These aging eyes thirst to caress sweet ebony lines
The burial ground should not be a place of buried treasures The bodies of the deceased are all that should be found there We brought nothing into this world, and nothing should go out Blessed are we who die in
Friend of the night, come with me, The moon has closed its eyelid, The night is like the pitch; Come on sleepy streets Like coiled snakes, hibernating In the shade of houses like the crenels Of a fortress desolated by
It is autumn grapes are bleeding. The orange color seeps into your eyes. Will you shut the green lids? You, start reading backward. Atavistic instinct to dig up the severed hands? Your house, died in the flower bed. Seeds were
This is where God breathes! Here is the mountain wellhead that cannot believe our bodies are drenched in darkness. Drops of water burning bright like verses from holy books. Here my heart smiles at Goethe’s heart, like a sun at
Africa’s venerated literary icon with words of eloquence esoteric to the blind. Distinguished in letters for ages infinite. Unparalleled in intellect, and a gadfly of constructive dissenting views. Soyinka, You are indeed a priceless asset to the black race. The
Oh bird, your meditation, that Indian monks borrowed And conduct school of meditation, with no means, To their ends, as they do it artificially, as a road-show; But thou makes it creative to find your prey and catch it As
Deathly silence enveloped the vicinity As tears welled in every eye Stirred every heart,soul and mind That photograph and that beautiful face Thrown out of existence By inexplicable desire and malevolence Now cast a ghostly radiance In the light of
If emotions were sounds, And feelings could be heard, What would be the loudest? And would some be unheard? Huff-puff, rattle, grunts and slurs! Would we just hear random noises? Whistles, whispers, shouts and roars! Or beautifully harmonizing inner voices?
On seeing a big field, Stopped my car. It’s almost evening now. The boys are coming out Through the broken wall. Their football …1998! A friendly dog came running; This one looks like Blacky. Don’t have anything now, dear! …From
I wake up to cobble stone steps, And the smell of decadent crepes! Next thing I know, I’m sipping Chardonnay, While the harmonica in the background, plays. I’m cycling through fields of sun-kissed vines, With picturesque views, I’m cheerily entwined.
The screams became louder, and he grew darker. Money which we call a sign of progress took its way through under table, The day rape victim was ashamed of herself, humanity went unstable. But let’s not focus about us because
I am afraid of my incompleteness! The part of me, which is still human, Is afraid of the dark loneliness. Is afraid of the lofty dilemmas Of life, love and death. Relationships, lust and their worth. I am the Hamlet
Through the trials and tribulations Let the heavens shining light breakdown An devastation but never let the pain of her king Being taken become forgotten because little do we know We were witness to an angel with the power to
You came into my barren world When I had fallen short of life With beautiful dreams ever dreamt of Filling colours to each and every dream of mine With the dazzling aroma of the shining moon With the soothing breeze