Prose love poems and/or love poems about Prose. Read, share, and enjoy these Prose love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems or see our other Prose Poems.
anxiety, dark, emotions, fate, grief, pain, sorrow,
Hope, A Little Remained
She walked the creaking floors of the rat-infested room,
trying to remember what tragedy had sent her to this shabby place.
Her heart felt the desperate pains, that lost love sends in aching waves,
praying her sleeping infant does not wake and cry out from its feverish thirst.
He paced the cold cell, languishing in deep misery, heart shattered,
each step an eternity echoing curses, a testament to his broken pride.
Although thousands of miles apart, he felt her loss, never-ending sorrows,
dawn would come, priest would take his last confession, yet Hope remained.
For Silent One's, eight lines of fate, when you wonder if it is too late.
life, love, philosophy,
I asked to my father
Baba, What is life ?
He politely said to me, " Life is Duty . "
I asked to my mother
Maa, What is life ?
She said to me with smile, " Life is Responsibility . "
I asked to my teacher
Sir, What is life ?
He said to me with love, " Life is Education . "
I asked to my spiritual master
Gurujee, What is life ?
He said to me with confidence, " Life is Devotion . "
Today my son who reads in class nine
Babai, What is life ?
I have said to him, " Dear, You are my life . "
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
( Father means BABA, BABAI and Mother means MAA in Bengali language . Gurujjee means spiritual master in Indian society )
And so it was that Autumn would die
with a gust of wind she said goodbye
Of love mortal she sits subdued
sipping remnants of death imbued
With curtains drawn she lie in rest
in silent prose she relived each breath
of life abandoned of weary roads
where Winter's freeze would glisten alone
And so it was that Autumn had gone
in the lonely grips of winter
without a song
Light blue tears on parchment, how softly my pen
weeps for you. Ribbons of verse bind, pull tightly
on oozing emotions. Devoted words lie embalmed
in true affection, line upon line of adoration. I am
besotted in ink, controlled by a heart that fills my
page. My pen lies aside my love, my dreams, my
day and night and what you are to me. Your kisses
are the words planted and my future granted.
I wrote verse on the wings of a lark
romantic phrases in perfect rhyme
but the lark flew away in the dark
I wrote no further for the longest time
A lone blue jay landed upon my lawn
I wrote sweet prose on his sapphire wings
He spent the night with me, but at dawn
the jay flew away and no longer sings
I answered the call of a beautiful raven
I wrote love sonnets on his ebony wings
He stayed for years in my safe haven
I was one of the raven's castoff things
I no longer trust those who take flight
I lost them all and my torn heart bled
On restless wings I'll never again write
of love that leaves me alone in my bed
Love is like a fire
It often expires
A comfort that revives
Your tender soul alive.
A blind joy soaring
The loveless signs ignoring
It rises high with freedom's grace
To spring a blush upon your face.
Love is sweet like antique wine
It breaks the fetters of loveless mind.
Love is loving all the time
Love is a spirit unconfined.
Love is a constant kindness
A joyful untamed madness.
Love jealous not
Or is a selfish glut.
Love is a divine quality
Expressed in purity!
Our fellow travelers,
What measure of trust for them?
The moment's imperfections are easily, even instinctively overlooked -
We risk for their benefit, sacrifice for their good.
Minutes stretched, the holy person spoke to all comers
As I heard love's woman,
Hanging on the pierced and tattooed man.
What did she see, he was fractional to me;
Her freely-given look demanded no return,
Love's area of the mind spreading over others.
Was it that he'd only hit her once?
The sightless mother's fingers over the face of her child
Tenderly traced that juncture of skin and hour,
Acquiring an instant in time.
desire, dream, love, moon, romantic, sea, sun,
I knew you long before
pursuit's intention shone,
felt you in sun's fiery warmth
& shooting star surrender,
heard your voice on soft
burbled whispers of sweet zephyrs
and nectar'd songs of hummingbirds,
saw your depths of magnificence
in sapphire ocean tides
cresting 'neath effulgent moons
savoring breaths of crystalline
snowflakes on crisp sea air,
I knew strength in your convictions
for it braved every fantasy's illusion
acquiesced 'tween dulcet desires,
whilst the strong presence of your charms
envelop'd every night's dreaming
longing, love, poems,
The turtles roam where the butterflies go
How can I say what your love means to me
A poem I write to hopefully show
To convey with tender words sincerely
My love for you continually grows
For in my heart I hold your loving smile
Inspiring me to write you endless prose
Our time too brief though your love does beguile
All I can offer is my heart to you
In return for yours that will never stray
I promise you I shall always be true
Hear my words of love and let them convey
Of my undying love until the end
For now this love poem to you I send
For Trust Me Baby This Is Love contest
Sponsored by: Mystic Rose
Gregory R Barden
introspection, poetry, sad, writing,
A gentle heart
So full of love
Yet no one feels
It's worthy of
Care or time
So I am left
To barter rhyme
The things I feel
Be love or hate
So others fawn
At what I pen
When deep inside
An endless end
To coaxing sighs
While deep within ...
A slow demise.
All's not about Darfur
I've seen it, eerie winds
Moonlight through our thatch
We kissed round, one *palmie gourd
Kigali was but a miss
Waist-beads - beats to love
Have you heard the talk-drum,
*Fela's horns of brass,
Or the *Aladuras' joy of Alleluia?
My grandmother still walks miles
Just because her forbears did,
And shame on malaria
For the dearth of men
Oh, on Mandela's earth
Of Soyinka's nobel ideas
Africa - a big breast,
the good, the bad, the ugly. . .
all, as sucklings!
*palmie - palm wine
*Fela - Celebrated afrobeat musician
*Aladura - a popular african instituted christian sect noted for heavy prayers
Crimson lips, lovers awaken with a kiss
Creamy white skinned Goddesses resting
In a time where Socrates lusted after Sappho's
Poetry and art.
The Grecian people worshiped her with
her beauty and exquisite prose. On the wings
of her art she played enchanting music arranged
Golden chariots in fields of apples bold,
yet, solitary like one fallen from the tree,
Sappho wrote her memoirs and music
while exiled, her death unspoken.
The Mask it cannot hide
those feelings deep inside
that squeeze the senses tight
to try and recall a
time of love,lust and sin
then you realize now
thoughts are all you have left
Ralph Sergi Masquerade
Contest April 25, 2014
I would love to swim to the 'Guilamine' in the skin
Or dance on a carpet of sheer pleasure
I might like an ice-cream cone on the way
Topped with pink and golden treasure.
I would enjoy a drink made of sparkles
That might light up with yellow-red magic
My dreary grey-blue life – and then
I would anticipate with joy an umbrella
Made of silk and maidenhair fern
To be silly with –
Connie Marcum Wong
death, how i feel, love,
After the reaper appears for us,
And our vital bodies rendered to ash...
What great proof will remain of our love?
Will the after years shed less light
On our breathless consuming passion?
Will our photographs that subtlety
Captured nuances of the love in our eyes
Stand clear enough for our descendants
To realize our profoundness shared?
I would go with you without trepidation
Knowing our ashes would not belie what
Once was felt for each other to be eternal.
I cling to thoughts that my words expressed
Through once valued prose not be forgotten
By our future generations who know of
Us only by our faded photographs.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Dr. Upma A. Sharma
Radiant beams of Aubade,
Basking brilliant aura,
Sun is in the mood......
Ramifying fragrance of florets
And aroma of plants,
Wind is in the mood.....
Nurturing spirit into seedlings,
Blooming plants and all mortals
Water is in the mood........
Blessing us with soulmates, pals
And little ones,
Toning the ambiance and climate,
The creator is in the mood......
Bestow upon us thy commendation
Oh lord !
Glorify us with divine crotchet !!
Written on 17/5/13
Contrast - on nature #3
Sponsor- PD A
Featured poem of the week- Dec 13th, 2015
beautiful, bird, earth, imagination, inspirational, nature,
Black birds gather....early in the morning....scooping up sunshine and singing to announce a new day....
Wings flapping in rapid succession....like waves of splendor....enthusiasm galore!
Black birds gather...my heart flutters a new beat...a tempo like none other...like the shininess of soft piano keys...your passion to sing enlightens me
Oh how I wish I could sing at the first shards of sunlight....how I wish I could fly around from tree top to tree top ushering in the new opportunity
I will do my best to do the same thing right down here with my mug of hot coffee!
How I love the NEW DAY!
jealousy, sad love,
That tiny mouse's bullfighter cape,
I took it from you because I couldn't bear not to.
I had to have it.
You challenged the world with it,
and it shown in the sun as brightly as you burned.
It grew cold when I touched it,
Like a star without light or heat,
a ghost sail with no wind,
hanging limp in memory.
confusion, depression, faith, introspection, life, lost love, lovemetaphor,
wake up to serendipity
ignorant and unknown
shaken and not stirred
blond can be bond
Reality, metaphor and cliche
cheesy juvenile decay
Love, care and hate
past the use by date
of fights and torment
and well deserved lament
salute to the solitary reaper
with Metallica... I disappear
analogy, beauty, blessing, celebration, growth, love, marriage,
(And We’re Still Together, Babe)
Growing old together,
Is to refine
As we ride
The waves of passing time.
Nor defeated graves
The victory over
The sacred love that is
The essence of us:
Of our story.
Came and left
And now we’re all alone:
And the dogs.
Now in their own home!
addiction, beauty, best friend, passion, poetry, poets,
I cannot stop
writing about you my Love.
You are more than prose and poetry,
beyond inked imagery.
Pen and paper cannot capture your creed my Love.
I can't just stop
singing about you my Love;
You are more than moonlight melodies,
and resounding rhapsodies.
Lyrical stunts are not enough to spot your pattern my love.
I cannot stop
thinking about you my Love,
You are inscribed in my whole heart,
as my indelible art;
life's raging flood cannot erase you my Love.
Poetry, O poetry my love!
You make me hear the twilight songs of stars,
and take me beyond the brightest blue...
bear me forever on the wings of words my love!
Never a father
But an Uncle
Always on an adventure....
The big house
on an acre
All of it gone
Or given away
A lost five years
Then I re-found you
and became a
and Best friend.......Again.
blessing, inspirational, love, romance, wife,
If only you could see the vision
Now deeply living inside my mind
Feeling the peace which now stays
Knowing your love is only mine.
If only you could feel the passion
Which each new day is on the rise,
Then you would never worry at all
For you will never face lonely times
I truly love you deep within my heart
With a pure power that never ends
And every time I awaken to your smile
Its life essence selflessly begins
For I feel what you have given me
With the love you allow me to seize
Binds me tightly to a fervent need
To have your love always next to me.
introspection, parents, sorry,
Did our parents not have better things to do-
better things than to suffer our indifference-
better things to do than return to us love
patients for intolerance-
self sacrifice for our selfishness?
Seems that they could never get it right-
In every thing we thought ourselves wise-
our parents foolish-
then the worst thing they ever did
was to go and die-
they died and took with them
all we now ache to know-
but now never will-
we were just too wrapped up-
too wrapped up in ourselves to ask them-
we always thought there would be time-
bereavement, betrayal, confusion, devotion, divorce, emotions, heartbreak, hurt, love, love hurts,
How does my body
This flesh that withholds my soul,,
manage to bear the weight from the chains that have been embedded upon my bequeathing heart?
Where does one hide the pain that is encrusted upon these eyes that are dreary and now fail to sleep?
Why cant my mind acquit, my heart adrift, my skin ache for the touch of another?
Does it have to be me that has to live with this night, because happiness is the other side of this mirror?