6 Love Poems You Can Share With Your Soulmate

Love poems and poetry are so important because it helps us understand and appreciate the world around us. Love poems attempt to figure out what humans have been struggling to figure out for thousands of years.

It is trying to find the right words to describe an indescribable feeling, to reconcile the words in your head with the emotions in your heart. Read below in this blog six love poems you can share with your loved one.

“What I Love About You” by Nidhi Kaul- Love poems

The sparkle in your eye,
The warmth of your skin,
Your breath on my neck
That shakes me within.

The touch of your hand,
The smell of your hair,
The naughtiness in your smile,
That strength in your stare.

Your kiss on my lips,
Your body near mine,
The stroke of your touch,
Makes everything feel fine.

The compassion in your touch,
The power in your face,
The beating of your heart,
That we may never end our embrace.

The beauty of your kiss,
And that magic in your touch.

It is for all these reasons and more
Why I love you so much.

“When Do I Think Of You?” – Sherry Hilderbrand

I think of you in the morning
before the sun rises,
when in the still of the darkness
my heart feels your presence.
Your love, your tenderness,
your slow rhythmic breathing as you sleep,
and I am at peace.

I think of you when the first rays of sunlight
a spill like a waterfall between the blinds
and settle in my eyes.
I reach my hand, my foot, any body part will do,
to touch you and breathe you in.
It feeds my heart, my soul, my spirit,
and I am at peace.

I think of you at noon when the sun is at its highest,
when the heat warms my skin
and causes my eyes to close with sheer pleasure.
Thoughts of you surround me, envelop me, and overpower me.

Images of you swirl around like a funnel cloud,
sucking all that it touches into its grasp,
and I am at peace.

I think of you when the sun is setting and its final light rays begin to fade.
I can hear your voice, deep, soft, and slow, in my head–
words of beauty, joy, friendship, and everlasting love.

My heart begins to sing a love song so sweet and so gentle.
I cannot wait to share my day with you and yours.
And I am at peace.

I think of you when the sun has set and the stillness of the moon
is displaying one of its many wondrous phases.
Thoughts of your smile, your laugh, and your eyes
create a feeling that is impossible to express with just words.

The need to touch, feel, and drink you in
is almost too much to hold inside.
Anticipation of you is the greatest gift.
I am at peace.

“Let Me” – Randy Batiquin

Let me take care of your broken heart
and show you how to fly.
Let me hold you gently by the hand
and kiss your tears goodbye.

Let me lead you to tomorrow’s light
and out of needless rain,
’cause all I want right now
is to see you smile again.

Let me sing you all the songs I wrote
’til you sleep in my embrace,
and I’ll keep you safe and warm until
the sunlight strokes your face.

Let me bring you up to the mountain’s peak,
and I’ll let you touch the skies
to remind you of the strength I see
when I look into your eyes.

Let me kiss you and show you what love is
and the happiness it brings.
You’ll sail again like a butterfly
endowed with pretty wings.

Let me do all these to let you see
our fates are intertwined.
You’re the accidental precious gem
I’ve waited too long to find it.

Love – Samuel Taylor Coleridge

All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame.

Oft in my waking dreams, do I
Live o’er again that happy hour,
When midway on the mount, I lay,
Beside the ruined tower.

The moonshine, stealing o’er the scene
Had blended with the lights of eve;
And she was there, my hope, my joy,
My own dear Genevieve!

She leant against the arméd man,
The statue of the arméd knight;
She stood and listened to my lay,
Amid the lingering light.

Few sorrows hath she of her own,
My hope! my joy! my Genevieve!
She loves me best, whene’er I sing
The songs that make her grieve.

I played a soft and doleful air,
I sang an old and moving story—
An old rude song that suited well
That ruin wild and hoary.

She listened with a flitting blush,
With downcast eyes and modest grace;
For well she knew, I could not choose
But gaze upon her face.

I told her of the Knight that wore
Upon his shield a burning brand;
And that for ten long years he wooed
The Lady of the Land.

I told her how he pined: and ah!
The deep, the low, the pleading tone
With which I sang another’s love,
Interpreted my own.

She listened with a flitting blush,
With downcast eyes, and modest grace;
And she forgave me, that I gazed
Too fondly on her face!

But when I told the cruel scorn
That crazed that bold and lovely Knight,
And that he crossed the mountain-woods,
Nor rested day nor night;

That sometimes from the savage den,
And sometimes from the darksome shade,
And sometimes starting up at once
In green and sunny glade,—

There came and looked him in the face
An angel beautiful and bright;
And that he knew it was a Fiend,
This miserable Knight!

And that knowing what he did,
He leaped amid a murderous band,
And saved from outrage worse than death
The Lady of the Land!

And how she wept, and clasped his knees;
And how she tended him in vain—
And ever strove to expiate
The scorn that crazed his brain;—

And that she nursed him in a cave;
And how his madness went away,
When on the yellow forest-leaves
A dying man he lay;

His dying words—but when I reached
That tenderest strain of all the ditty,
My faultering voice and pausing harp
Disturbed her soul with pity!

All impulses of soul and sense
Had thrilled my guileless Genevieve;
The music and the doleful tale,
The rich and balmy eve;

And hopes, and fears that kindle hope,
An undistinguishable throng,
And gentle wishes long subdued,
Subdued and cherished long!

She wept with pity and delight,
She blushed with love, and virgin-shame;
And like the murmur of a dream,
I heard her breathe my name.

Her bosom heaved—she stepped aside,
As conscious of my look she stepped—
Then suddenly, with timorous eye
She fled to me and wept.

She half enclosed me with her arms,
She pressed me with a meek embrace;
And bending back her head, looked up,
And gazed upon my face.

‘Twas partly love, and partly fear,
And partly ’twas a bashful art,
That I might rather feel, than see,
The swelling of her heart.

I calmed her fears, and she was calm,
And told her love with virgin pride;
And so I won my Genevieve,
My bright and beautiful Bride.

A Red, Red Rose – Robert Burns

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 love 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 of life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only love!
And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again, my love,
Though it were ten thousand miles.

Love’s Philosophy – Percy Bysshe Shelley 

The fountains mingle with the river
And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one spirit, meet and mingle.
Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high heaven
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
If thou kiss not me?