Love Poems About Spanish or Spanish Love Poems

Spanish love poems and/or love poems about Spanish. Read, share, and enjoy these Spanish love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by Terry O'Leary |
Categories: green, lost love,

Green Spanish Eyes - Part 3

Continued from Part 2
Ah Consuela! I’m watching as lightning at midnight in green Spanish eyes
kindles cracks within crystals like flashes from pistols
                 residing inside of the gloom
as it hovers above us betraying a dove as
                 she flees from the fountain of doom.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching, distilling despair in her green Spanish eyes,
and the bitterness stings like the snap of the strings
                 when a mystical  mandolin sighs
as the vampire shades suck the life from charades
                 neath the resinous residue skies.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she looks to the ledge with her green Spanish eyes,
for the terrace hangs high and she’s thinking to fly
                 and abandon fate’s merry-go-round.
At the edge I perceive her and rush to retrieve her –
                 she stumbles, falls far to the ground.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching the sparkles a’ spilling from green Spanish eyes.
As I peer from the railing, with evening exhaling,
                 I cry out a lover’s lament – 
there she lies midst the crowd with her spirit unbowed,
                 but her body’s all broken and bent.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she beckons me hither with green Spanish eyes,
and I’m slightly amazed being snared in her gaze
                 and a’ swirl in a hurricane way,
but the seconds are slipping, my courage is dripping,
                 the moment is bleeding away.

Ah Consuela! I touch her - she weeps tender tears from her green Spanish eyes;
as the breezes cease blowing, her essence leaves, flowing,
                 in streams neath the ambient light,
and the droplets drip swarming, so silent, yet warming,
                 like rain in a midsummer night.

Ah Consuela! I hold her, am hushed by the hints in her green Spanish eyes,
while her whispers are breathing the breaths of the seething
                 electrical skeletal winds,
and the words paint the poems that rivers a’ slowin’
                 reveal where the waterfall ends.

Ah Consuela! I’m fading in fires a’ flicker in green Spanish eyes,
as she plays back the past, she abandons and casts
                 away matters that no longer mend.
          
                  .
And she reached out instead, as she lifted her head,
                 and we kissed as she parted, my friend.
          
                  .
                          .
Ah Consuela! I’m tangled, entombed, trapped in tales of your green Spanish eyes,
in forsaken cantinas beyond the arenas
                 where night-time illusions once flowed,
for the ash neath my shoulder still throbs as it smoulders
                 some place near the end of the road.



End


Poem Details | by Vee Bdosa |
Categories: angst, art, black african american, friendship, happiness, hope, imagination, inspirational, life, lost love, love, philosophy, prayer, prayer,

CANDLE 1st in Spanish then scroll down for english trans

VELA (CANDLE)First Spanish version, scroll down for English)
Yo ser‚ para ti.
Toda la vida que me queda la vivir‚ para ti
y cuando el tiempo haya terminado,
morir‚ por ti.
Dir‚ tu nombre
en cada vela que encienda, respirar‚ tu nombre.
Te susurrar‚,
cada oraci¢n que diga ser  siempre parte de ti.

Por toda la eternidad,
y as¡ ha sido y ser  siempre, 
y cuando deje este mundo,
aquello vendr  conmigo
en la luz de una vela.
Todo el mundo sigue girando, haciendo el d¡a y la noche,
y de la oscuridad a la luz,
ser s siempre parte de cada oraci¢n que yo diga.

Yo ser‚ para ti.
Como una fresca quebrada de la monta¤a que se desborda por ti
como una c lida brisa de verano
entre los  rboles para ti.
En el brillo de una vela,
todo lo que he sido o llegue a ser 
por toda la eternidad,
tu ser s parte de todo lo que yo haga siempre.
Yo ser‚ para ti 

					
					Traducci¢n: Emilio JSaavedra M    CANDLE	
I will be for you.
All my life that is left, I will live for you,
and when time has run out,
I will die for you.
I will speak your name
in each candle that I light, I will breath your name.
I will whisper you,
every prayer I ever say will be part of you.

For eternity,
and forever it has been, and will always be,
and when I leave this world,
it will go with me.
In a candle light
all the world keeps on turning, making day and night,
and from dark to light,
you'll be part of every prayer that ever comes from me.

I will be for you.
Like a cool mountain spring that overflows for you
like a warm summer breeze 
through the trees for you.
In a candle glow,
everything I've ever been or will ever be
for eternity,
you'll be part of everything I ever do.
I will be for you.
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the doylestown poet


Poem Details | by Cameron Hartley |
Categories: boyfriend, culture, cute love, humorous, love, racism, spanish,

Notes on Dating a Latino: What You Don't Learn in High School Spanish Class

OneLatino boys like Buffalo Wild WingsIt isn't clear why, but it's definitely emerging as a pattern.

TwoLatino boys are persistentWhen he asks to kiss you for the first time, say noWhy? Because you've known him for a matter of weeks and he is not your boyfriend yetDon't worry..he will continue to ask every week until you say yes.

ThreeLatino boys are really good kissers.

FourLatino boys love their familyHis cousins are best friends, so you probably already know several of themIf any of his cousins also like you, you might think this is problematicYour boyfriend will tell you that it's normal, and it's just because they're jealous, and not to worry about itYou will probably worry about it anywaySometimes it's better to let things go.

FiveLatino boys are romanticHe will tell you how he loves you in two languages and struggle to find an apt metaphor which he can pronounce in the English languageSince his English isn't perfect, he uses his hands to compensate when he speaks,  uses a tilt of his head, a shift in his voice; he says most with his eyes, when he isn't speaking at all.

SixNotice how he lights up when he smiles at you, like the sunrise..remember that the word for smile in Spanish is sonrisa.

SevenWhen he offers to teach you the meringue, say yesWhen you trip over each other's feet, laughWhen his face moves close to yours..kiss him.

EightWhen your racist father starts talking about socioeconomic classes, remind him that unlike your brother's American friends, your friends are sober(Well, more soberDo not bring up tequilaThey're not potheads, at least.) Besides, your Spanish teacher is thrilled with your miraculous improvement in spoken Spanish.

NineWhen you go bowling with him and his cousins and he whispers in your ear that people are staring at us, tell him it's just because they're jealous that I have a boyfriend that will dance with me in public.

Ten"Te amo" is a phrase that sounds prettiest when whispered.


Poem Details | by Keith Trestrail |
Categories: hope, love, , cute,

Spanish Boots of Spanish Leather

 Alas, soon it will be morns of frost and icy chill
   with its lonesome blues forever;
 but nigh O God is the power and the glory
   in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather

 Somewhere out there breathes my own true love -
   someone to see through my blether;
 for among the prickly thorns blooms the rose
   in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather

 I've drank from the poison cup of silent sorrow
   and bliss but knew not whether!
 The shuffle in my step is a long time coming
   in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather

 With acute sense unspoken I've mused on thee
   buoyed by this portent together;
 if only to find I would walk the farthest mile
   in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather

 I'm off, my beloved, where the four winds blow
   to journey among birds of a feather;
 and girl, wherever I go I know I'll get there
   in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather

 How sweet it is - your shining moist lips on mine,
   whose heart with mine does tether!
 Come to me, my lovely, before it's too late,
   in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather

 O when my epitaph fades into the darkest night
   and words unsaid are buried nether...
 hark, call out my name and promise bury me
   in my Spanish boots of Spanish leather

"So take heed, take heed, of the western wind, 
   take heed of the stormy weather"               
 Yes, there is something to remember me by -
   my Spanish boots of Spanish leather

                   
         With apologies to Bob Dylan.

                  ------------------

The first two lines in the last verse with 
quotation marks are from the original song lyric.


                     April 1997


Poem Details | by Chris Boskovski |
Categories: beautiful, body, caregiving, desire, dream, feelings, first love, for her, girl, happiness, happy, how i feel, joy, kiss, longing, love, passion, red, romance, romantic, rose, sexy, smile, spanish, sun, sweet, together, voice, woman, write,

Ode to Mi Corazon

As I pull weeds from cracks in sidewalks
Yout sit on top of thrones made of solid gold
And I pay no mind to the women around me,
Only to your beauty do I hold an Ode.

I see my fair Spanish lady
my daring, sweet rose with thorns,
That run up and down her spine.
As she stops in the daily parade
Waving at the peasants,
She looks at me and summons her guards
Too take me away.

Her beauty is unbearable.
I cannot take not being with her
For a single moment in my life.
Her hair,
Black like coal,
Her smile is bright, as the first rays of the Red Sun
In the dawn.
Her lips painted with ruby lipstick,
her silk laced dress and shawl wrap around her,
Like a beautiful butterfly in her cocoon.
Her skin of olive, dark color and her green eyes.
My God, those sweet and piercing green eyes
Oh, how they hit my soul and make me shiver with excitment.
She is intoxicating and I am intoxicated in her beauty.

She is like an angel, a Latina beauty who walks the streets paved gold,
As I walk the cracked, cobblestone walkways.
She shines in the Spanish sun, like a dimoand in the ruff
As you blow the dust off her sweet brow,
she glows and sparkles with extordinary excellence.

She is beautiful and sweet and kind.
She loves me, but her father minds.
I am only a peasant, and she royalty.
Can our love ever be together in one holy matrimony?
I pray to the Lord, of all that is good,
Please give me a sign that she loves me.

Soon a storm came over,
blowing me down to the ground
And a cloud of dust swallowed me whole.
A great Conquistador on a great white stallion
pulled me up and told me that she wanted to see me.
I shacked with nervous of joy as I followed the warrior.

She was there, under a palm tree
Near a beautiful beach in Barcelona.
She smiled and a glow covered me with passion.
I hugged her and kissed her upon her sweet lips.
I tasted virginity and she tasted loyalty.
We both tasted beauty and harmony.
As the warrior left us,
We made love upon a vigin white sheet,
Soon covered with a flowing river of red.
She moaned with exticy and love was in the air.
The Ode to my sweet Spaniad, Mi Corazon!

We lay there in each others arms
Looking up at a clear night sky
The twilight glimmered ever so softly
And a shooting star blazed across the sky
I kissed her and she kissed me.
I whispered in her, "My love forever"
And she pushed me back upon the sheets
and we made sweet and ever lasting love again.
As we looked in each other's almond colored eyes.
I said to her, in a soft voice, Mi Corazon.


Poem Details | by Cameron Hartley |
Categories: age, boyfriend, immigration, love hurts, sad love, spanish, teen,

If I Love You

"If she loves you," they tell you,
"This will be a problem."
I am una niña, a little girl-
And you are too old for me,
Too young to know
What you're doing,
Too careless to be cautious,
Too Hispanic to be safe
In a place so diverse that
Teenage boys
Are always classified by race-
You are too beautiful 
To be resistible.
But I promise not to love you.
I promise not to need you.
I won't kiss you where 
Anyone can see, and I
Won't cry when you leave me-
Yes, I know you will,
I'm not so young as idiocy-
I can be your secret,
As long as you are mine...
And if I write you love poems...
I'll write them in the dark.
I'll recite them to the shadows,
And no one has to know.
You never have to know
I ever lied.


Poem Details | by Jim Pemberton |
Categories: best friend, faith, first love, forgiveness, freedom, friendship, god, happiness, hate, heartbroken, inspiration, inspirational, introspection, jesus, joy, leaving, life, loneliness, lonely, lost love, love, lust, relationship, religion, religious, sin, spanish, spiritual, spoken word, uplifting,

May the Love of Jesus Touch You


May the Love of Jesus Touch You!

May the love of Jesus bless and touch you!
May his presence be with
 and uplift you!

May the joys of the love make
 you complete!
And touch you, from your
 head to your feet!

May the glory of the lord
 be with and keep you!
His majestic power can really touch you!

May the words that he’s spoken,
touch your spirit!
His mercy and salvation… 
 He freely give it!

May the sweetness of Jesus,
 into your life bring!
His righteousness and beauty!  
Your everything!

May you take some time
 with Jesus in prayer?
How much he loves you! 
 How much he cares!

By Jim Pemberton    07.28.13





Poem Details | by Terry O'Leary |
Categories: bird, dark, green, lost love, me, night,

Green Spanish Eyes - Part 1

Ah Consuela! Invoking vast vistas for visions of green Spanish eyes,
I discern them again where she left me back then,
                 as we kissed when she parted, my friend.
Through those ruins I tread towards the footlights, now dead,
                 where I’ll muse as her shadows ascend.

                  .
                          .
Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she teases the mirror with green Spanish eyes;
her serape entangles her brooches and bangles
                 like lace on the sorcerer’s looms,
and her cape of the night, she drapes tight to excite,
                 and her fan is embellished with plumes.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching as spectators savour her green Spanish eyes;
taming wild concertinas, the dark ballerina
                 performs on the music hall stage,
but she shies from the sound of ovation unbound
                 like a timorous bird in a cage.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she quickens the pit with her green Spanish eyes;
as the cymbals shake, clashing, the floodlights wake, flashing,
                 igniting the wild fireflies,
and the piccolo piper’s inviting the vipers
                 to coil neath the cold caldron skies.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching the shimmering shadows in green Spanish eyes
as I rise from my chair and proceed to the stair 
                 with a hesitant sip of my wine.
Though she doesn’t deny me, she wanders right by me
                 with neither a look nor a sign.
 
Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she looks to the stage with her green Spanish eyes,
(for her senses scoff, scorning the biblical warning
                 of kisses of Judas that sting,	
with her pierced ears defeating the echoes repeating)
                 and smiles at the magpie that sings.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching faint embers a’ stir in her green Spanish eyes,
for a soft spoken stranger enveloping danger
                 has captured the rhyme in the room
as he slips into sight through a crack in the night
                 midst the breath of her heavy perfume

Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she gauges his guise through her green Spanish eyes
 – from his gypsy-like mane, to his diamond stud cane,
                 to the raven engraved on his vest –
for a faraway form, a tempestuous storm,
                 lurks and heaves neath the cleav’e of her breasts.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching the caravels cruising her green Spanish eyes;
with the castanets clacking like ancient masts cracking
                 he whips ’round his cloak with a whiz 
and without sacrificing, at mien so enticing,
                 she floats with her face facing his.



Continued in part 2


Poem Details | by Cameron Hartley |
Categories: boyfriend, cute love, love, lust, spanish,

Mamita

He turns me into
A wide-eyed little child
And he is my favorite game-
It goes like; he holds me close,
His fingers in my hair...
His breath is steady, matches mine,
His heart beats in my ear...
Now if I stroke his skin
With my fingertips, will the 
Beat of his heart quicken?
If I press myself more closely
To him, will the warmth
Of his skin rise?
If I trace the outline
Of his lips, will he murmer
"Mamita..."
Softly?


Poem Details | by Rahima Espat |
Categories: desire, destiny, love, romance, spanish,

El amor a primera vista

El amor a primera vista
No se define con los ojos
Se define con la química inexplicable 
Que toma control instantáneo
Sobre dos personas sin conocerse.

Ya sea física oh virtualmente, 
Esta emoción envuelve los sentidos de los individuos 
Obstruyendo la razón y en forzando determinación
Para ir contra viento y marea 
Con tal de poder llegar a conocerse.

Los ojos son el portal,
Atreves de ellos comienza la atracción.
Pero en caso de un ciego, ¿que?
Para poder sentir el aura y buenas energías
Tan solo necesitamos estar vivos.

El amor a primera vista no es amor.
Es un cariño puro que brota de dos.
El comienzo de algo grande 
Y la oportunidad de poder conocer,
Nacer, crecer y vivir una gran historia de amor.


Poem Details | by Vee Bdosa |
Categories: black african american, dedication, devotion, love, passion, romance, romantic, spiritual, prayer, prayer,

CANDLE English and then Spanish version

     CANDLE	
I will be for you.
All my life that is left, I will live for you,
and when time has run out,
I will die for you.
I will speak your name
in each candle that I light, I will breath your name.
I will whisper you,
every prayer I ever say will be part of you.

For eternity,
and forever it has been, and will always be,
and when I leave this world,
it will go with me.
In a candle light
all the world keeps on turning, making day and night,
and from dark to light,
you'll be part of every prayer that ever comes from me.

I will be for you.
Like a cool mountain spring that overflows for you
like a warm summer breeze 
through the trees for you.
In a candle glow,
everything I've ever been or will ever be
for eternity,
you'll be part of everything I ever do.
I will be for you.
© ron wilson the Doylestown Poet

VELA 

Yo ser‚ para ti.
Toda la vida que me queda la vivir‚ para ti
y cuando el tiempo haya terminado,
morir‚ por ti.
Dir‚ tu nombre
en cada vela que encienda, respirar‚ tu nombre.
Te susurrar‚,
cada oraci¢n que diga ser  siempre parte de ti.

Por toda la eternidad,
y as¡ ha sido y ser  siempre, 
y cuando deje este mundo,
aquello vendr  conmigo
en la luz de una vela.
Todo el mundo sigue girando, haciendo el d¡a y la noche,
y de la oscuridad a la luz,
ser s siempre parte de cada oraci¢n que yo diga.

Yo ser‚ para ti.
Como una fresca quebrada de la monta¤a que se desborda por ti
como una c lida brisa de verano
entre los  rboles para ti.
En el brillo de una vela,
todo lo que he sido o llegue a ser 
por toda la eternidad,
tu ser s parte de todo lo que yo haga siempre.
Yo ser‚ para ti
© ron wilson the Doylestown Poet


Poem Details | by Kaila B.A |
Categories: art, happiness, inspirational, love, music, me, me,

My Spanish Guitar

Oh My Spanish Guitar  
Let me forget all my pain
Let me listen to your meldoy 
Day or night I wouldn't complain

Let me follow your rhyme
Smile with my closed eyes
Let me dance even if it rains
My feelings with your music always rise

Oh My Spanish Guitar
My fingers wants to feel you so bad
My eyes want to fall a sleep
Just by holding you in my hand

Let me gently attack your frets
With tendency let me play with your chords
Let the string buzz like a happy bee
Let the heart feel the fretboard

Oh My Spanish Guitar
you decide what you want to do
I could die and you are in my arms tonight
I could chill till life time with you






Poem Details | by Brashard Bursey |
Categories: girlfriend-boyfriend, love, on writing and words,

My Love for a Hispanic Girl---Spanish version

Una chica hispana la fuerza y belleza tan sabios y fuertes, creo que estoy enamorado de ellaElla representa al sol que brilla toda la habitación y mi mundo por díaPor la noche, ella es la luna que sube por la noche, y mi buena estrella.La belleza de todas las niñas hispanos están floreciendo como un lote de rojo, amarillo, blanco y rosas rosadasCuando miro a los ojos de una hermosa chica hispana, que brillan como un par de caras diamantes por valor de 1 millones de dólaresCuando veo la cara, es como mirar un ángel


Poem Details | by Terry O'Leary |
Categories: green, lost love,

Green Spanish Eyes - Part 2

Continued from Part 1
Ah Consuela! I’m watching the vertigo veiling her green Spanish eyes,
while the drumbeat pounds, droning, the rhythm sounds, moaning,
                 of jungles Jamaican entwined
in the valleys concealing the vineyards revealing
                 the vaults in the caves of her mind.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching life’s carnivals call to her green Spanish eyes,
and with paused palpitations the tom-tom temptations
                 come taunting her tremulous feet
with her toe tips a’ tingle while jute boxes jingle
                 for jesters that jive on the street.
	
Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she rides ocean tides in her green Spanish eyes,
and her silhouette’s travelling on ripples unravelling
                 and shaking the shipwracking shores,
as she strides from the light to the black cauldron night
                 through the candlelit cabaret doors.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she dances till dawn flashing green Spanish eyes,
with her movements adorning a trickle of morning
                 as sipped by the mouth of the moon,
while her tresses twirl, shaming the filaments flaming
                 that flow from the sun’s oval spoon.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she masks for a moment her green Spanish eyes.
Then the magpie that sings ceases preening her wings
                 and descends as a lean bird of prey –
as she flutters her ’lashes and laughs in broad splashes,
                 his narrowing eyes start to stray.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching fey carousels spin in her green Spanish eyes,
and the porcelain ponies and leprechaun cronies
                 race, reaching for gold and such things,
even being reminded that only the blinded
                 are fooled by the brass in the rings.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching, she shepherds the shadows with green Spanish eyes,
but as evening sinks, ebbing, the skyline climbs, webbing,
                 and weaves through the temples of stone,
while the nightingales sing of a kiss on the wing
                 in the depths of the dunes all alone.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching the music and magic in green Spanish eyes,
as she dances enchanted, while firmly implanted
                 in tugs of his turbulent arms,
till he cuts through the strings, tames the magpie that sings,
                 and seduces once more with his charms.

Ah Consuela! I’m watching, the citadel steams in her green Spanish eyes,
but behind the dark curtain the savants seem certain
                 that nothing and no one exists,
and though vapours look vacant, the vagabond vagrants
                 remain within mythical mists.

Continued in part 3


Poem Details | by Mark J. Halliday |
Categories: beauty, funny love, magic, music, passion, song, symbolism,

Spanish Gypsy

Guitars seduce me
With stacatto semi-tones
Spanish Gypsy scales


Poem Details | by Andrea Dietrich |
Categories: lost love,

A Spanish Shadorma

in Madrid lived a dark-eyed boy - Eduardo like my youth that young, wild man *tan guapo vanished from my life *tan guapo = so handsome


Poem Details | by Andrew Crisci |
Categories: animal, crush, culture, desire, flower, girl, joy, love, passion, romantic, spanish, true love, violence,

Watching The Matador

The roaring bull
enters the arena;
clouds of dust raise.
Then the slender matador
in tight attire arrives;
he has no knowledge
of who is watching.
The prettiest girl
in traditional dress
has set eyes on him;
her posture is elegant.
A red flower in her dark hair
suggests an inflamed passion.
It's a scorching day
in Madrid; the fan she holds
does little or nothing
to keep her cool.
Thoughts in their minds
contradict; she's the admirer
from the balcony.
He is the fighter in the arena.
He must kill that bull
to win her; fierce are his looks
while his hands keep on fanning
the red cloth to gain control.
He can't lose this fight;
he must win at any cost.
It's a battle of strength and pride;
man against animal.
Ah, the bull succumbs to injury...
maestro grabs his horns and claims victory!
" O Matador, my matador...
you are the bravest one in all Spain! "
Stretching her arms.




 


Poem Details | by Kate Ginsberg |
Categories: baby, beauty, blessing, love, parents, peace,

Spanish Lullaby - Tender Grace

Little one I am here
you are not alone
Mama will guard your sleep 
and you are safe at home
I will hold you closely
in protective arms
and keep precious baby
from harm

Trees slowly nod
in the sighing wind
Now the sun has gone
you must rest again
Seeing sweet contentment
on your drowsy face
I'm breathless with the moment's
tender grace

Stars gently wink
in the silver sky
look up above, 
watch the moon climb high
close your eyes now, my darling 
and drift off to dreams
in peace as I watch 
over thee


Poem Details | by Vee Bdosa |
Categories: black african american, dedication, fantasy, friendship, hope, love, light, light,

Beltaine - English then Spanish Translation

  BELTAINE (English and 
Spanish Translation)
If I could gather for you, flowers fair,
the first of summer, slip them in your hair,
to light your face, the tremble of your smile,
how much in love I'd be at what is there.

If I could welcome May in all her bliss,
the window into summer's melting kiss,
I'd know the greatest joy, though for a while,
and die among the gods, for only this.

If I could open summer, and her pain,
each ray of sunlight fair, each drop of rain,
each courting dove, each flit of butterflies
each welcoming of death, that ends all pain.

If I could capture Beltaine at sunrise,
'twould shine much like the light there in your eyes...
.BELTAINE
Si podría recolectar para usted, florece favorablemente, el primer
del verano, los deslizan en su pelo, para encenderse la cara, el
temblor de su sonrisa, cuánto en amor sería en cuál hay.

Si podría dar la bienvenida a mayo en toda su dicha, la ventana en el
beso que derrite del verano, sabría la alegría más grande, aunque
por un rato, y el dado entre los dioses, para solamente esto.

Si podría abrir verano, y su dolor, cada rayo de la feria de la luz
del sol, cada gota de la lluvia, cada paloma que corteja, cada
revoloteo de mariposas el cada dar la bienvenida de la muerte, que
termina todo el dolor.

Si podría capturar Beltaine en la salida del sol, ' brillo del twould
como la luz allí en sus ojos
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet)


Poem Details | by ron ryan |
Categories: adventure, depression, girlfriend-boyfriend, imagination, inspirational, introspection, life, loss, lost love, love, nostalgia, passion, places, sad, song-lyric

Senorita Sorrow ( Spanish Rain )

Any teardrops that I can borrow?
In those Spanish eyes of yours
In those big brown Spanish eyes
of yours
 
 
Senorita Sorrow
Can you run away with me tomorrow?
We can chase our dreams around
And make love
And start wars
In those Spanish eyes of yours
In those big brown Spanish eyes
of yours
 
You have never lived
It's very hard to explain
I got lost in Senorita Sorrow
somewhere in San Sebastian, Spain
somewhere in her Spanish eyes
somewhere in the Spanish rain
 
We had the time of our lives
But she cried there on the train
She couldn't hold back the pain
She knew there was no tomorrow
My Sweet Senorita Sorrow
As she stepped out into the 
Mid-September Spanish Rain





Poem Details | by Peter Dome |
Categories: dance, love, night, romance, romantic, spanish, summer,

Warm Romantic Spanish Summers Night

A white walled Spanish villa
over looking a blue Mediterranean rolling sea
the fragrance of pink cherry blossom
and olive groves fill the warm night air
as waves of calm and tranquillity sweep over me.

Red roses and bottle of wine upon a table 
by the pool candle flames flicker and dance
in a calm caressing breeze
Soft gentle guitar music
charge the air with romance.

With a dark haired señorita in a red elegant dress
and hair styled to impress
we talk and laugh exchanging flirting glances through the night
then dance under the stars slowly holding each other tight
Kisses lead to caresses 
as we hold each others heart within our welcoming hands
For the night is made for love
She is my woman
and I her man.




Peter Dome.copyright.2013.Dec.



Poem Details | by Brashard Bursey |
Categories: girlfriend-boyfriend, happiness, love, on writing and words,

Hispanic Girl's Love Poem---Spanish version

Amar a una hermosa chica hispana será el gran momento de mi vidaParece que todos los hispanos las niñas son hermosos ángelesNo sólo es esta chica hispana es tan bello como el resto de las niñas hispanas, ella es muy lindo, demasiadoCuando vi esta hermosa chica hispana, tuve las mariposas en mi estómagoPero cuando esta atractiva Hispanic ángel había entrado en mi vida , he tenido un instinto acerca de este momentoEsta chica hispana es el sol que brilla sol, la luna que aparece por la noche, y mi buena estrella.


Poem Details | by Rahima Espat |
Categories: sad love, silence, spanish,

Desde El Silencio

Cuando de reojo veo tú silueta;
Paran mis latidos,
Mi cuerpo se estremece,
Y se alborotan mis sentidos.


El el silencio de esta fría soledad;
Te grito lo que siento,
Te revelo mis deseos,
Pero no hay nadie que logre escuchar.


Volteo la mirada sólo para verte pasar;
Perdiendome en tú caminar.
Mis ojos cuidandote,
Mientras me pregunto, en quién pensaras?


Continuo mi camino en silencio;
Todo vuelve a la normalidad.
Por escrito guardo estos sentimientos,
Para de ellos nunca volver a hablar.


-Volcán Inactivo


Poem Details | by Robert Pettit |
Categories: girlfriend-boyfriend, love, places, heart, heart,

Spanish Sweetheart

My heart runs faster than elevated trains passing by.
It is all because this Spanish sweetheart has caught my eye.
As I walk past the rows of homes in Lower Kensington,
an attractive Hispanic girl has snared my attention.
With olive skin, and long hair as dark as a raven’s wing,
this sweet Chiquita is getting my heart ready to sing.
“A rose is growing in Spanish Harlem”, says Ben EKing.
However, I will stay in Philly to pursue this thing.
I know attractive women are found in a plethora.
There are so many to see here in Philadelphia.
This doll I have just found is now number one on my list.
She looks so sweet I wonder if she has ever been kissed?


Poem Details | by Andrew Crisci |
Categories: animals, death, food, loss, love, nature, sad, seasons, sympathy

ESTEFANIA WAS THE SPANISH HORSE

Estephania was the Spanish horse,
with a chestnut coat and mane   
and a lighter long tail...and she ate
alfalfa for strong teeth and bones.


She was domesticated, losing her liberty
and neighing she showed keen ability:
to spot dangers on a perilous path...
Estefania even stopped for a stranded cat.


In summertime she fed mostly on grass,
but bees stung her many times to protest,
and struggling to get them off her tail...
she hit a shrilling raven in the head.


And feeling sorry for the dying bird wincing, 
Estefania licked his semi-open eyes...giving
him a little comfort as he folded his wings;
and whinnying she wept a river of tears.


Poem Details | by Michael Degenhardt |
Categories: fantasy, imagination, life, love, dream, dream,

Day and Night (Spanish Lira)

I dream in cover of night
Yet, often times I dream by the light of day
You come in darkness and light
Guiding the steps of the way
To a place where we two are free and will stay


Poem Details | by Michael Degenhardt |
Categories: death, life, love, passion,

Desire (Spanish Lira)

My eyes see just the surface
But there’s so much more to you than meets the eye
My heart increases its pace
As my throat lets forth a cry
With a need to kiss your skin, else I should die


SPANISH LIRA IS A SPANISH FORM OF POETRY WRITTEN IN 7/11/7/7/11 
SYLLABLES,WITH THE RHYME SCHEME-ab,ab,b.


Poem Details | by James Fraser |
Categories: life, love, people,

Spanish Eyes

Inside my mind to my tomorrows I look
Straight ahead with no forks on my road
I can't look back as my past will hurt more
A corner I desire to rid this corrode

Dreams of many I have to live life to the full
To be as I should to be a soul in ones heart
Around so many corners cul-de-sacs appear
What does it take for ones life to restart

Then came the day as I travelled life's road
Freely I glanced as the corner became near
I turned into my unknown, not knowing what's ahead
Intrepidness abounds, living can be a fear

Through a window I view, absorbed at what I see
Spanish Eyes of beauty, musically we share
A Heart of Lothian, allures us both
Leaving this Highlander, in notable stare

For the first time in my life I can see another me
My tomorrows are now alive no longer I now wane
Her words like lyrical music, have melted my frozen heart
No longer that lonely road, there's still life in my veins

There will be many corners, of which we'll turn together
As I wave goodbye to my past, I remember it's many cries 
Our future is what we'll make of it
All because I looked into her Spanish Eyes

















Poem Details | by Bo Lanier |
Categories: cute love, dance, spanish,

Fandango - Get Funky

Hey, hey, hey Latin cutie,
hot on the dance floor
come and let me dance with
you, I can feel the heat
radiating from your body
and Whoa I am mesmerized
GET FUNKY,GET FUNKY
GET FUNKY baby oh
yi, yi, yi GET FUNKY
GET FUNKY,GET FUNKY
baby work that FANDANGO
Oh go, go, go and GET
FUNKY baby here on the
dance floor do that FANDANGO
like they do in Rio De Janeiro
Hey, hey, hey you Latin hottie
you, get down on your bad self-shake 
It baby shake it, look, look
it looks just like jello on springs
oh baby let me touch it, let me
lick it, let me taste it oooh carumba
bon bon Louis and I don't need no
Spanish fly on the fly oh no 'cuz
you are the bomb you hot, hot
Latin thing...
I can feel the heat radiating from 
your body and I am mystified
GET FUNKY, GET FUNKY
GET FUNKY baby oh yi, yi, yi
Whoa work that FANDANGO
oh go, go, go and GET FUNKY
GET FUNKY, GET FUNKY
right here and now on the dance
floor, do that FANDANGO, work
that FANDANGO just like you
used to do in Rio, Rio De Janeiro
and GET FUNKY!


Poem Details | by Jemmy Farmer |
Categories: loveheart, heart, love, me,

Love's Mystery (Saraband Sonnet (Spanish/French combination))

Why should you mean so much to me?
In all this world, it is you alone
who fills my heart with love’s decree.

In winter’s wind your love is shown
a ray of sun, a warm embrace,
the mystery of passion grown,
where silk and roses interlace.

Why you and not another heart,
can lose my senses with one glance
but then you’ve had me from the start.

A single word, desire’s romance,
as odes of love our lives enhance,
like magic from a wishing-well
your heart has wrapped me in its spell.