Marriage poems filled with fun, emotion, passion, love and laughter, just what you need to realise how beautiful the bond of marriage is. Read poetry about marriage with it’s different perspectives and how this bond is a major milestone in every person’s life. You are sure to remember your better half as you read these marriage poems.
It started with us the two of us, involving everyone around us, We dream to share the love within We dare to become one, keeping in mind each others priorities first, We wish to live with the spirit and guide
Chizzie, Your magical kiss electrifies my poor Soul, it soothes my dry tongue with your salivary honey, it satisfies my innate needs like money earnestly sought for to meet every set goal listed in a schedule of a lifetime’s needs.
What is marriage? giving 50% of yourself to your lover? Better yet is it giving 100%? Is it a commitment to stay committed to what yall already to commit to? Is it the thought being able to lay next to
Child Marriage: Plights Before Me. Innocence in me, society betrayed, joy in me- society destroyed, wonderful future ahead of me society truncated. Child Marriage: Plights Before Me. Innocence in me, society betrayed, joy in me- society destroyed, wonderful future ahead
People often invite whole family for their marriage functions generally not all the members of the family attend function some have genuine commitments,some not interested and some hate functions One who attends will have to be prepared to answer queries
The black beads set amidst the gold beads A jewellery, to be adorned eternally. Reminding us the promises we had made To keep the hearts, happy and hale… Amidst the feast, glitter, and flowers On a hustling, happening and upbeat
Mysterious is he, the person Even with his body temperature soaring and his whole body shivering and his head revolving he hasn’t stopped showering the soothing romantic wording to his dream girl-cum-wife , par enchanting all the while heaping the
Once my husband brought a pair of white pigeons, Very beautiful with red eyes and lush red beaks. Extremely gorgeous with glorious visions, In our mother tongue we call it Laqa-kabootar. A special species of sweet white pigeons, In golden
Oh, my husband, he is too soft, giving everything, I ask, but not trusting me, keeping all savings, himself, And asks, “what is money for, am giving all that you need”; That’s not right, am wounded and so, don’t like
(Trite thoughts on marriage, how it starts and how it lasts) Soulful words that allay and lull the heart Astral ebullience, those moments oft impart… Smiles that hold some mischief, some virtue… Glory and happiness, oaths, a good fortitude. Love
Heavens descended Agni, Varuna, Indra & Yama¹ lined up To witness a Swayamvar² Of a heart with a soul, A reunion on earth & a Meghdutam³ With a cloud as pen The universe as canvas Was asked to describe The
Though not a right, may I seek a fading, but yet worthy pursuit? For the many whose pursuit of chastity in marriage grinds to a halt, Could it not be due in part to being pulled toward illusions of grandeur?
The sacred fire smoulders fast turning its witness false. the uncared hymns of the priest melt unnoticed in the fragrant smoke; the holy books keep silent and negotiations for metals and notes go on; they never observe the heart that
A few rough years we have left behind, Of fears, frustration, fights, just blind. Patience is what I needed to teach myself, A very difficult challenge in spite of myself. But as patience started to shine on through, My husband
Dear Daughter, If I were the sunshine my golden rays would enfold you in my warmth, And fill your dawn with joy and happiness. If I were a flower, I would bloom in your garden, And fill your every breath
With fondness I recall love that was: Lyrical like the breeze that kisses my forehead, That tanned my skin is pleasant warmth! With drums and tantrums they celebrated the union of two souls, And then the matriarchs spurned the love
cement heart of disappointment you traveled but not far enough graceful hands and tapered nails handwriting worthy of a calligrapher barking your knuckles peeling spuds standing in boots and a man’s coat you stink of his sweat raise his children
When the facts and figures did not add up When the bank account was empty, and also the cup When I was tired, weary, and worn, feeling all washed up From Illinois to Wisconsin, from Mississippi to California You have
This poem is On the basis of the thought written by Shakespeare in Julius Caesar , ” the fault dear brutus is not in our stars but in ourselves ” They searched and searched Their entire life For a fault
It’s funny; all it takes is a glance and I’m entranced, A stare from your eyes that makes me forget about the sky. A stunning smile that makes me grow so wild, A chance to release my inner-child. The tidal
Her last cigarette clouded the window Of the only fluorescent-lit room In the dusty motel Off exit 168. Yes sir, no sir As she climbed into bed Putting out her cigarette On four-use one-wash sheets. He clung to her Until