The 10 Best Love Poems of 2022

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The 10 Best Love Poems of 2022

If you are more of an academic poetry lover who stills enjoy Shakespeare’s love sonnets now and again, then the list for you of the 10 Greatest Love Poems Ever Written is recommended. But, if you find the language of the Renaissance half a millennia ago a bit distant, then the below list of best love poems finely crafted by living poets in traditional English meter and rhyme may be perfect for communicating to someone you love.

This best love poems list is in no particular order and all poems have been published by the Society of Classical Poets in 2022 (with the exception of one poetry translation done in 2022 and one love poem submitted to the SCP in 2022 but published in January 2023). Not see a poem here that you think should be? Just post it in the comments at the end.

—Evan Mantyk, SCP Editor

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1. Autumnal Wind

by Daniel Howard

Autumnal Wind, who are in speed as swift
As was the Spring with which my life began,
If you would sigh upon this lonely man,
And whistle through his heart’s wide-open rift,
Then from the thorns of life I bid you lift
This fallen leaf; to blow me, if you can,
Across the great Atlantic Ocean’s span,
Beyond whose waters, let me float and drift,
Until I bid you breathe your parting sigh,
Where first I saw my darling lover’s face;
Oh blow me, blow me back towards that place,
That I may fall upon it from the sky,
And settle me, by now a dying thing,
Where I would wish my soul reborn with Spring.

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Notable Reader Comments

“…a mastery of form, elevated but never overblown language, and a satisfyingly complex syntax, all in service to ideas that are deeply resonant.”
—C.B. Anderson

“To express such deep sadness without sounding maudlin, is a real talent. And to make imagery out of wind, as you do in “Autumnal Wind” (especially in ‘And whistle through his heart’s wide-open rift,’ where the reader can virtually see the wind!) is a tall order, which you have fulfilled beautifully. “
—Cynthia Erlandson

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2. —To My Beloved Husband

by Isabel Scheltens

Our married love is no ethereal sound
Which dies away when wedding bells cease tolling:
No idle lust for courting or cajoling
Which dissipates, its petty joys once crowned;
Nor yet a chain to keep the body bound,
Inured in stagnant care and yearly foaling:
No joke to sneer at, causally condoling
A freedom lost, a voyage run aground.
As yet, I know not all our love will be,
For time and we shall change and change forever.
We are but young. This is our only love.
Yet this I know: in humble constancy
We learn to love, to change and change together,
Until we, changeless, live with Him above.

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Notable Reader Comments

“A fine sonnet. The immediacy of the voice and the clearly relayed message (and imagery – ‘yearly foaling’!) of the poem made for an easy read of the intricacies of marriage.”
—Paul A. Freeman

“I’ve always thought that the ABBA rhyme scheme for a quatrain is much harder to do than the more common ABAB. Yet in this sonnet the octet is not just beautiful in meter and diction, but also very smooth and fluent, without the slightest hitch or awkwardness. The alternation of masculine and feminine endings is also expertly done.”
—Joseph S. Salemi

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3. Lines on the Autumnal Eclipse

by K.S. Anthony

In the depth of winter skies
__Where ancient bodies hover
Moon to Sun will seem to die
__When Earth divides the lovers

And in the hour of its grief,
__The sun will cease its burning,
And starve the bough, the branch, the leaf
__And leave the cold dawn yearning.

In the depth of dying light
__The moon will cry in sorrow
Thinking that the longest night
__Finds no relief tomorrow.

Sun will freeze the stars to dust
__Above to chain the hours.
Moon will seem to turn to rust
__Below will die the flowers.

And beneath their broken hearts
__We question and we wonder
Where love ends and where love starts
__And what tears it asunder.

If there meet two hearts, two lips
__Will Earth be their undoing?
Will they only be eclipsed:
__A shadow’s pause in wooing?

As Earth’s shadow fades from night
__Rekindling their desire
Sun takes Moon into its light
__And Moon sets Sun on fire.

In the dark of winter skies
__That oft leave passion covered
Love has often seemed to die
__But none divide the lovers.

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Notable Reader Comments

“Turning an eclipse into an event with the heavenly bodies personified is a brilliant concept, well worked out in the poem. You take care to make the personifications clear by treating ‘Earth,’ ‘Sun,’ and ‘Moon’ as personal names except when you add “the” to indicate otherwise. Fabulous work that gives the feeling of ancient eclipse viewers who (not knowing what was happening) might have feared the death of a celestial light.”
—Margaret Coats

“Exquisite words and phrases that are evocative”
—Roy E. Peterson

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4. Revelation

by Russel Winick

You never see suspects admitting their guilt,
__Or partisans stating they lied.
You’ll never hear soccer stars fearing defeat,
__Or macho guys saying they cried.

In a world where the truth’s often hidden away,
__And the facts can be hard to construe,
One thing I would never keep secret is that
__I’d be totally lost without you.

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Notable Reader Comments

“a lovely twist at the end”
—Cheryl Corey

a “bite-sized [morsel] of poetic magnificence”
—Susan Jarvis Bryant

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5. I’m Here

by Mike Bryant

__Your smile, it hypnotizes.
It rises with the Inca doves and sun.
__Sleep done, your love surprises
And spices dawn with lush and precious fun.

__Your widened eyes are fashioned
In passion that I simply can’t dismiss.
__Insistent, blue and flashing
A brash and playful prelude to a kiss.

__Your words and music heat me,
Complete me with the wonders of your mind.
__Bind me to you, treat me
To sweetest odes and arias entwined.

__I know our spirits mirror.
It’s clearer every year and I am still
__So thrilled to have you nearer—
I’m here, I love you, and I always will.

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Notable Reader Comments

“The way the internal rhymes weave together, joining the end of one line to the beginning of the next, is quite pleasing to the ear. And I love how the poem builds from the circumference to the center, with admiration for the smile and eyes, to the words and music, to the very spirit. How lovely!”
—Anna J. Arredondo

“The contrasting but consistent paired line lengths (except ‘[and] treat me’) and minimizing of enjambment (emphatic periods rather than commas in 2-3 places) give the poem a sly and coy feel, and a decidedly dance-like one: do I hear a cha cha, or is it a tango?”
—Julian D. Woodruff

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6. Little to Regret

by David Watt

When Time has stilled my body
__Think of me now and then,
Asleep beneath the wattle,
__Which flowers yet again.
And as the summer follows
__With rays I cannot see,
Let the warmth embrace you—
__My passion cannot be!

And when your time approaches
__(In many years I trust)
Be reassured my darling,
__Though I have turned to dust,
That when you lie beside me
__I’ll recognise you yet,
And sleep a deeper sleep—
__With little to regret.

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Notable Reader Comments

“a poetic testament to true love… an eternal love that waits patiently with a song of peace and wonder.”
—Susan Jarvis Bryant

“Very clever play with speaker and addressee, David. Though both are living, this is almost a ghost poem, as the speaker imagines death and burial, then gently and lovingly considers his darling in the grave next his own. He will have warm recognition (no passion), the pleasure of which is a deeper sleep! This poem of lasting love is great twist on recalcitrant juvenile “No Regrets” such as current T-shirts display. And with just a single word, you made it Australian. Great work!”
—Margaret Coats

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7. In the Market Square

by Morrison Handley-Schachler

Early this afternoon I was in town,
Dealing with some mundane and dull affair,
And, on my busy journey up and down,
Ran into Cupid in the market square.
The god, accosting me, since I was there,
Showed me a vision where I chanced to look
Of features, vigour, form and virtue rare
And then produced a raffle-ticket-book,
Saying, “Her charms whose face just now you saw
Are prizes for the winner of the draw.
This ticket costs your heart and your estates,
The hours of life you borrowed from the Fates,
Your hopes and your capacity for thought
And is the thousandth ticket to be bought.”

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Notable Reader Comments

“I am more impressed by the slick competence of the god of love “In the Market Square.” It inspires one to wonder whether the vision he shows is real, and why so many are apparently willing to pay the price. In life, we do indeed find the reality behind the vision rare, but just as rare are the men sincerely willing to pay what is asked for it.”
—Margaret Coats

“…very entertaining and enjoyable… dry sense of humor in response to the human psychology.”
—Yael Sauzedde

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8. Unrequited

a rondeau redoublé

by Susan Jarvis Bryant

Tonight, my eyes are open and aware. 
The kiss I trusted was a lustful lie. 
I’m letting go of love that isn’t there. 
My heart holds dreams no mind can justify. 

I built a cozy castle in the sky— 
A home of truth and faith and all that’s fair. 
But now I see a light I can’t deny. 
Tonight, my eyes are open and aware. 

Tonight, I learned his fervent air of care  
Was wispy smoke, a joke, a worthless sigh. 
That burden’s hard to bear. We’re not a pair.  
The kiss I trusted was a lustful lie. 

I know the sweetness of life’s apple pie— 
Two feasting on a marvel made to share. 
But only one felt wonder at that high. 
I’m letting go of love that isn’t there. 

I live for love and send mine in a prayer 
Together with a brusque and bold goodbye 
To soothe my wretched spirit’s raw despair— 
My heart holds dreams no mind can justify.  

I curse the sting of tears I ache to cry.  
I hunger for his fingers in my hair. 
I thirst to give vain wishes one more try… 
But no… my soul would starve if I should dare.  
__Tonight, my eyes are open.  

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Notable Reader Comments

“…you show yourself to be THE master of a form that is so tricky and because what you write is fraught with meaning and wonderfully applied poetic devices. You really capture the emotional suffering and anxiety of unrequited love so well! Although I suspect those ‘opened eyes’ at the end are not truly the end. In fact, that is what makes this form so perfect for the subject matter—it creates the sense of an anxiety-laden perpetual motion.”
—Brian Yapko

“‘Unrequited’ not only makes excellent use of the rondeau redouble, but comes to a most perceptive psychological point about the topic.”
—Margaret Coats

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9. Bergerette

by Marguerite de Navarre (1492–1549),
translated by Margaret Coats

O shepherdess, my friend,
On love alone I live.
True love is life’s true end,
My heart can comprehend,
And therefore I intend
_My love unceasingly to give.
O shepherdess, my friend,
On love alone I live.

Love lends me confidence,
Grants conscience calmer sense,
Builds patient competence,
_Forms faith and hope restorative;
O shepherdess, my friend,
On love alone I live.

Love is my victory,
Honor, gleaming glory;
Fashions me his story
_Of pleasure’s daily narrative.
O shepherdess, my friend,
On love alone I live.

Love has such lovely grace
That when I see his face
I find a tranquil place
_For fervent years contemplative.
O shepherdess, my friend,
On love alone I live.

Love offers deep content:
With his care provident
And arm omnipotent,
_I need no aid alternative.
O shepherdess, my friend,
On love alone I live.

Love draws me lovingly,
Attracts with gloom, then glee,
Charms me with misery.
_Alas! His changes I misgive.
O shepherdess, my friend,
On love alone I live.

Love spreads his wings to fly,
Calls me to gratify
Him by pursuit; I sigh,
_And hurry toward the fugitive.
O shepherdess, my friend,
On love alone I live.

Love, to secure my heart,
Falls in my arms by art,
And then away will dart
_In dalliance provocative.
O shepherdess, my friend,
On love alone I live.

My joy without a peer
Inspires such songful cheer,
I cry to every ear,
_“Love love, or lapse insensitive!”
O shepherdess, my friend,
On love alone I live.

Shepherdesses gracious,
For Love be amorous,
Thereby more rapturous
_Than queens of high prerogative.
O shepherdess, my friend,
On love alone I live.

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Translator’s Notes:

Marguerite de Navarre is the poet’s name as wife and queen to King Henri II of Navarre. She is also known as Marguerite d’Angoulême or Marguerite d’Alençon or Marguerite de Valois. King François I of France is her brother, and the poet Charles d’Orléans, her great-uncle.

“Bergerette,” meaning “little shepherdess,” is supplied as the poem’s title, because that is a recognized term for a virelai on a pastoral theme. For another bergerette in English, see “The Shepherdess” by Alice Meynell. The virelai is a lyric form in which all or part of the first stanza is repeated. Repetitions, like variations in line length or stanza length, can happen in a bewildering variety of patterns. Here the rhyme scheme for the first stanza is ABaaabAB, and for the other stanzas cccbAB, where the /c/ rhyme sound differs in each stanza. The /b/ line is longer than the others.

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Notable Reader Comments

“Wow—this is amazingly good work! The sheer complexity of the form, and the need to replicate its rhyme scheme, would be daunting to any translator. Coats’s notes provide a helpful guide as well. Even in translation one can tell that these medieval French forms were written to have musical accompaniment. I found myself humming silently in my head as I read the English version.”
—Joseph S. Salemi

“I know from experience what a daunting task it is to translate something with so many rhymes! (As you know, having to find ten words that rhyme with ‘live’ and still convey the sense of the original is not easy.) It’s good in both the original French and the English translation. (Clearly, French hasn’t changed much in 500 years.)” 
—Joshua C. Frank

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10. Stasis

by Adrian Fillion

It’s as if we never loved. How else
To think about it? Though you’ve left a void
In me, oddly I find myself devoid
Of any feeling. My heart neither melts
Nor hardens at the sight of you tonight.
No doubt you feel the same. Your presence here,
Even when you pass me very near,
Is like your absence: neither dark nor bright,
Not sad, not happy, neither hot nor cold—
A passing thought or daydream. We’ve achieved
A stasis that I wouldn’t have believed.
We don’t love. We don’t hate. We’re just annulled.
No sorrow. No joy. No agony. No bliss.
I thought that only death would be like this.

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Notable Reader Comments

“‘Stasis’ captures that odd feeling when passion simply goes away and you wonder what all the fuss was about. Well done.”
—David Whippman

“I find ‘Stasis’ a hauntingly beautiful poem. A reminder to the joyfully married of how great their good fortune is.”
—Russel Winick

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