Love Poems About Sundays or Sundays Love Poems
by Aurore Severo |
Categories: childhood, memory, sad,

Candy Cotton Dreams

Daddy picked his cotton Six scorched days a week Sundays were sunny gleeful Cotton candy I held in hand He took me to the county fair Pink and pretty as could be Balloons hid my child's tears for the days he toiled away My daddy loved to toss me high up in the air he'd yell, I love you My pink beautiful butterfly Ferris wheels and chocolate pies Sundays truly I the pink happy butterfly One day the balloons all popped Daddy grasping heart Tumbled to the ground there are no more Candy cotton dreams only Somber clown tears

by Kash Poet |
Categories: love, romance,

A Sunlight Girl

A sunlight girl with sunny smile years ago in my life, shining bright like Sunrays trapping my chlorophyll days! In and out day and night of my heart's secret room, all those days sunny Sundays Christmas nights no darkness! Remembering her sunlit face in this wet rainbow noon, after a fresh damsel rain walking down memory lane! Sunlight girl where are you? I need now smiling face, give me back bright Sunrays bring back my chlorophyll days! © kashinath karmakar

by Liberty Robbins |
Categories: faith, love,

I Still Believe In Unicorns

When we are small 
We believe love will cure all
That good deeds go unpunished
That our dreams will  fully flourish.

When we grow up we are pessimists 
Flaws in all things exists
People let you down
And all smiles turn into frowns.

But I want to hold on to sunshine
To rainbows, unicorns, all things magically divine.
I want to hold on to you,
Because love and dreams can come true.

I love our childish ways
Gummy bears and cartoons on Sundays
Pizza boxes, no plate
Still believing in what brought us together; fate

by Panagiota Romios |
Categories: childhood, imagery, memory, peace,

Celestial Soda Pop

Time and tides flowing through my tan, bare toes.
    Twas a time of sweet peace, flowering boughs.
    Spices of love, filled scarlet sunset nights.
    Limitless dreams waltzed in our heads with might.
    Sundays, love for God, from our fingers glowed.
    Snow or heat, we were in Church, faith flowed.
    Soft, Latin words, songs in Gregorian.
    Time travel, in utter peace, to live in.
    Under domed ceilings of bright white and gold.
    The incense, the songs, which never grow old!


by Neil Nelson |
Categories: love,

Sundays Taste of You

Our coiled limbs
To let go.

The Sun's rays
With our glow.

Long past lunch,
All we need

Is right here
The duvet.

We're content
Close despite

Our clammy
Flesh, thighs

I kiss your
Studded with

Your cool sweat.
And then
I'm hooked

All over again...

by Donald Meikle |
Categories: hopeprayer,

Daily Dally

It's another Monday
One seventh of your life
It's the second month of the year
at least six to go before you can earn it all
(Or most of it)
On the seventh day God rested
Hopefully He hasn't since
I wish He'd rested on the sixth too
(We'd have weekends off)
You can downplay religion if you want to
But I'm so grateful for Sundays
I'm considering a small business endeavor
Manufacturing small easy to keep objects
That are interesting enough to treasure
I'll sell them for weights of silver or gold.
sorta like a nickel bag novel (5 grams)
Or a daily prayer writ in stone
To carry as atonement
For allowing congressional thievery
Doncha just love Mondays

by Bozhidar Pangelov |
Categories: love

This Love

Ah, this love.

Like a down
of a child on the check.
Like a waft 
among roots nodulous 
of a hidden forest.
Leaves woken up
in Saint Martin’s summer
of the tree
waiting for the winter.
A bell aureate 
of Sundays of autumn.

Tolls …

by Kennedy Muitherero |
Categories: christian, day,

Marked Days

Once the calendar was designed to calibrate
We took the liberty to mark days to celebrate
And revere all that we treasure
With appreciation, reminiscence and pleasure

We revere the struggles and the freedoms
The pride and the establishment of kingdoms
The love, the births and all anniversaries
Sparing that day to tell the stories

Same way for the birth, death and Resurrection of our Savior
And Church on Sundays is more frequent than behavior
Taking time off labour
But are you a good neighbour?

If today is the day that the Lord has made
Why not chose good words and deeds to trade
Mark no annual day to be special
And make special to be life as usual

by Anil Deo |
Categories: analogy, appreciation, art, image, inspiration, relationship, writing,

I Love Your Dreams, Too

Inspired by a recent poem posted by Sunlite Wanter.Thanx, Deo, SENRYU20180708
dreams drum in living colors -- your heart has God's image, skin: you speak for disabled, even richly so
(c)Deo; I usually do not have two poems on LORDS DAYS/Sundays. I felt energized after two worship services, and a hospital visit to comfort one of our congregants. Something about Sunlite Wanter's writing is larger than life. PTL

by Bozhidar Pangelov |
Categories: love


*** (beyond)
in rains
forgotten odor
and those ingrown dreams
her arm

Sundays in rains

like a farewell

by Evelyn Judy Buehler |
Categories: bird, cry, goodbye, nature, sad love, sunset,

Blackbird Is Dead

Blackbird is dead.
Yes.  That is what I said.
The woods are still.  The sun is red.
Cherries near his little head.

Dark is coming.  Nanette weeps!
The wind shivers.  Nightowl peeps.
Gone the robin's trills and cheeps.
The song is ended.  Time sleeps.

Sober the jay in his blue cloak,
Unlike the morning he awoke.
Frog hasn't heart to give a croak.
Adam won't tell his usual joke.

Trees bow.  The day must pass.
Silent footstep on the grass.
What deed is this?  What manner?  What class?
The best of Sundays is gone, alas.

Blackbird is dead; they come and they go.
Summer changes to autumn glow.
All is ever so quiet now, though--
Awaiting the cockcrow.

by Mike Hauser |
Categories: celebration, fear, god, inspiration, life, lost,

Back At Church

MIt's been a month of Sundays
Since I have set face
Anywhere near this band of angels
In this most Holy Sacred Place

Guilt may overwhelm me
Shame may do me in
This day set forth may break me
Great sinner that I am

No one is less deserving
For I am the least of these
As I am covered in God's glory
Awashed with an inner peace

The days that I've been vacant
Are all a part in the grand scheme of things
Bringing me to my knees in my need of saving
And back to the Eternal King

As my brothers and sisters in Christ surround me
Pouring out love, not ones to judge
Tears of joy like flowing fountains
As another Prodigal son returns

by Linda Smith |
Categories: devotion, friendship, girlfriend-boyfriend, love, day,

Lazy Sundays

Lazy Sundays, I enjoy the most,
laying in your arms
in our warm and cozy bed.
Steam curls upward
from our matching cups of coffee,
taken on the back porch
overlooking the bright fall leaves.
The perfect day for brunch
in our pajamas.
A day spent together
with no schedule,
no worries.
Just you and me
enjoying one's company.

by Marilyn S Jennings |
Categories: appreciation, beauty, true love,

With Pen In Hand

With Pen In Hand

With pen in hand and with a willing heart
I want to tell you about my God,
and now knowing He is so Wonderful
I’m really not sure where I should start!

For my life before Him was so lonely
and darkness had totally covered my face 
then to me He sent His Holy Spirit
and I began to lift up my voice and sing of His grace.

Now my days are much brighter 
and His face I continually seek 
to walk with Him not only on Sundays
but in Him all during my week!

Without my Lord, why I’d be so lost
and my heart so sad it would be 
so gratefully now I am spending my time
before Him on bended knee.

Written by:  Marilyn S. Jennings
June 23, 1994

by Paul Curtis |
Categories: love

Sunday Service

Her dark eyes, sultry and steamy
Flashed a sideward’s glance 
From beneath the black lace of her Mantilla
He gave her a browse 
A more appraising look altogether
Her eyes flashed up again
A lingering languid glance
Which spoke of her muliebrity
Not the putative girl
They were now the cynosure
Of each others eyes
No words were spoken
Everything was intuit
With amative study 
And libidinous perusal
She his object of pulchritude	
He her beloved inamorato
Then they had to separate
And the spell was broken
Until next Sundays reunion

by Dominique Webb |
Categories: football, sports, strength,

Liam Irons

Liam is a qualified green keeper at a golf club, 
Attended Mill Vale Middle and Queensbury Upper, 
He’s from Dunstable and gained a degree, hub, 
From Dunstable College in Business clever. 

Born on the 17th day of December in year 1990,
He plays for 61FC in the South Midlands league, 
And also plays for Saints FC on Sundays, frisky, 
But was spotted playing on a Saturday, intrigue. 

His Paralympic debut was in Rio, they placed fifth,
He just loves the game: “…I definitely think [that] 
I would love to get into coaching when I can’t, [sith] 
play anymore…[because] it's life changing.”  Rap.

by John Rey Canon |
Categories: longing, remember,

Friction Starts Fire

I saw you again
And volts of electricity
Crept into my veins,
And love,
Still and frozen,

If only you saw me
For when two stone touches
Friction starts fire,
Like palm on skin,
Breath on lobes,
When you speak.

I hear the ringing
Of Sunday bells,
When the chosen worship
And I worship you.
I was damned, love, 
For you were my church.

My frailty I confessed to God,
For I was guilty of pleasure
Turning cheek from his light.
But love, this time is fine,
Like our Sundays,
Start from the start.

by Audrey Haick |
Categories: introspection, love, passion

Mango Salsa On Sole

Mango Salsa on Sole
Easy on the eye
No matter the occasion or weather
What you see before you is what you get!
No need for fancy dressing or extreme makeovers
Very inviting, full of tease
Hot and spicy! Colorful and tangy
Sweet, bold, zesty!
Exploding volcanic flavors
Igniting dormant taste buds
Satisfying my hunger
So refreshing in the desert sun
Warms my heart at Sundays brunch
Full of surprises, bringing joy and delight
A little burn every now and then
Followed by passionate amends, inviting
I can’t help but love Mango salsa on sole
This food for my soul

by Cori Wunderlin |
Categories: cute love,


you and i
so different, yet alike.

you, with your crazy jazz,
abstract art
and football Sundays.

and me

nothing but elevator music
and dizzy ideas i've yet to make sense of.
attempting to understand
your jazz
and abstract art.

i doubt i'll ever understand football
but i love to win!

such funny lovers
you and i
in your arms i find a peace i'd thought had long since left me.

your lips are sweet wine and your voice gentle to my ears.

both of us
reaching out 
for something or someone


i love you coyote.

as much as i can



by Jesse Jones |
Categories: faith, imagination, introspection, life, loss, lost love, mystery, social,

Untitled #263 / Cruel Creator

Oh God! Cruel Creator! You mock me!
You give me a heart for boundless love
but shut all its gates and hung a scarecrow outside
to ensure that any pity trickling in from without
would be but tears in an ocean!
Why must men and women sing your name on Sundays?

by Emile Pinet |
Categories: 10th grade, angst, anxiety, bible, faith, feelings, hate,

My Pet Peeve

Faith's morphed into a Sunday catharsis for people feigning the worship of God. Mimicking genuine faith, they fake it, lock children in cages, and then applaud. You either accept Jesus or not, but don't build walls that condemn the poor to die. And claiming to believe in Christian love, snatch babies from mother’s arms; facts don't lie. Such hypocrisy hurts my heart and soul, for I can't abide by their two-faced ways. Part-time Christians are a pet peeve of mine, flaunting their faith for an hour on Sundays. God judges us by the love in our heart, and He's not someone you try to outsmart. (Sonnet) 06,14,2019

by Renee Goswellin |
Categories: lifelove,

I'M Through

Did I chose this? No not me. Hes not the man he use to be. Change happens but not like this

just when I thought I had something good a different side of him comes out. I didnt sign 

up for this so I'm gonna take a rain check and sign out . I'm a good women to this man but

he dont see it. why hang on when theres nothing to hold on to? from this point on 


I'm though with the lies

I'm through with the Additude

I'm through with being mistreated and misused

I known what I deserve each and every day not just tuesdays and fridays but monday 

through sundays I'm just tired of being sick and tired LORD please HELP me I love this man

he just don't love me.

by Ravindra Nayak |
Categories: adventure, beach, beautiful, fantasy, feelings, ocean,

Island of Fantasy

Feel the sun in open cheeks dimple
Without your specs just simple

Lofty mountain surrounding long
Breezes all around moving with light song

Table of pure thought curled
Twinkling in heart like a king of world

With a cashless surrounding
Autumn season days like all sundays rounding

Holidays with your beloved
In the trees like a glass of world full of oxygenic loved

Feel the moon in open dove
Touch of darkness with a natural love

Falling in the arms of the oceanic breeze
Covering the all sphere with a glass of mind freeze

Purely amour the nature with natural paradise love
Guitar,sandunes and natural beauty dove.

by Lauren Gift |
Categories: adventure, life, love


I have been called a georgia peach a time or two 
Pretty as the sky is blue 
But i say damn on mondays
and pray on sundays 
Oh and if you have not heard 
Im bull headed and short tempered too 
If you kick a bull you better run 
Before this georgia peach comes undone

by Edward Ibeh |
Categories: cute love, poetry,

Invisible No More

~she felt unseen in a month of sundays, until his keen eyes met her's.~

Date written: 04/05/2023