Love Poems

. My Lips Have Kissed Her My lips have kissed her lips. Now I know why the timid sun arises with each day. I understand what moves the birds to fly and why the trees within the breezes sway. My lips have kissed her lips. I can't deny that it...

. The relentless rain sought to admonish those creatures who dared venture out. The wind carried a sorrowful message, determined to generate doubt. A less desperate man would have faltered on reaching that clifftop rim, But the resolute prisoner kept standing— Against Nature and instinct, still standing— He remained there,...

. from Eternal Spring Once upon a time in space God contrived the human race, Gave two things to help us cope: One was love, the other hope. Man was destined for a fall, But love sustained him after all. When all hope was lost in fear, Love would make...

. I stand upon the Bridge of Sighs as teardrops fill my weary eyes and think of life that used to be when she was still in love with me. I watch the river down below. My woes don't interrupt the flow. It catches all my tears that fall yet...

. When softly my sustaining comfort stirs Herself to offer solace coveted, Advancing toward the left side of my bed With that sweet courtly reasoning of hers, In fearful homage all my being murmurs, “O happy soul, from what sphere do you come?” __A little frond of palm, and some...

. While Waiting Through the Night This morning, searching on the laptop, I Found notes I made upon the night she died. All through the darkest hours at her bedside That night I knew she knew her end was nigh. And in the morning light though she would lie There...

. Logic Class As class convenes I quickly indicate in clear logician's diction of my eagerness to share my disposition to determine if we're here or there, or if instead we're neither here nor there. A student with a lisp, who would have been dismissed by any academic dean or...

. Will this reclaim the long-lost Muse perched on the tree of I.O.U.’s? Can I now join Miss E. B. Browning as she proclaimed her love---its counting? Her art’s not mine; I know that much. The years sped by---as if by touch! And each day’s love was multiplied until its...

. Moon Song Selene to Endymion Night, for ever, ever night. __Sleep as the Gods would sleep, __Beautiful boy; sleep; sleep; Rest ever in the cool night. I shall smile on you moon-bright, __Lay beside you and weep, __Weep. Gently shall I keep You young, lovely in the night. Shine...

. A life alone is at its center bare, A quiet conversation with myself, A single, threadbare suit I always wear, A volume set aside upon life's shelf. A time or two fate's hands would find me paired, Awakening to partnership each day. A coupled time where thoughts and deeds...

. A portent for our loss, this bird, so nigh Its end. The slowly creeping dusk had dared It to emerge, its doughty spirit bared, Eyes bright as lightning in a sullen sky. The lesser creature never questions why It lives in constant fear nor why a bird Must needs...

. My Paola’s love is constant as the sun That daily sheds its beams on hill and dale; No sooner set, it hastes again to run With steady pace, the same unswerving trail. When cold winds blow, the warmth of her embrace, Like sunlight, penetrates me to the core; Her...

. The Tale of Governor Do-as-I-Say-Not-as-I-Do-som It’s funny how Democracy In many states now colored blue Produces rank hypocrisy, A birthright of the privileged few. And there we notice Gavin Newsom Imbibing wine for all to see, Complicit in a maskless twosome Inside a swanky eatery. But this is urban...

. Poet's Note: These poems are non-autobiographical. . When Love is Lost To see the summer sun and wish for rain; To smell the springtime flowers and wish for snow; To wake at dawn and wish for night again; To trade today for dreams of long ago. To grieve the...

    . Dusk Till Dawn  The ocean rainAnd sleep played me—A willing pawn.I dreamt of youFrom nautical duskTill nautical dawn. . . Love Is More We shall be soul mates tillThey etch our names on stonesOr let our ashes flyFor love is more than justThin skin and brittle bones. ....

. . Kismet If I'd been younger, or you not so old, Or we'd met at a different time and place, Would there have been within your heart a space For me, for love to reach and grab ahold? Might there have been such glories to behold As two might...

. The Magpie’s Chorus With sunlight at full power And silence in the air, I sought a shaded bower, A cool drink, and a chair. But then, I heard the trilling Of magpies in the trees Pour out like liquid filling The desiccated breeze. They put on airs and graces,...

. Too long, too long, my love, Have we lain out here. Too long, too long, my love, Have our ease, our cheer Fixed us fast, sprawled in cool shade, With our arms and breasts clasped near, Too pleased to note that youth and day would fade. The sun, the...

. . Till rolling seas cease heaving high, The starry nights stop passing by, The universe is wrapped in flame, And there is no one left to blame. __Until then? ... You’re my loved one. Till sun no longer makes a day, And earth will never get a ray, The...

. For my friend Rose R., with sincere condolences. Good Lord, imagine my bad luck: I’m married to a hockey puck. I don’t know how it came about— A lover morphed into a lout! You’re a widow, not a wife, When hockey is your husband’s life. In his world, only...

. L O V E... It’s not a dozen scentless hothouse roses. __It’s not a chocolate-box of sweet cliché. It’s not the scorching kiss that lust imposes __To lead the fired and fevered flesh astray. It’s not an aphrodisiacal dinner __Or sighs in dizzy highs of fine Champagne. It’s not...

. Among the many flowers in the vase, ‘Tis I—the flower with the pretty face, Full humor, sound stamen, and skill in fun— Who is to say to you, Michele, “Well done.” As so the master charged.  Yet we who fade, Who soon, like him, shall die, know we were made...

C.B. Anderson was the longtime gardener for the PBS television series, The Victory Garden.  Hundreds of his poems have appeared in scores of print and electronic journals out of North America, Great Britain, Ireland, Austria, Australia and India. 

. . The Tale of the Rose (Excerpt) by Christine de Pisan (1364-1431), translated by Margaret Coats . This Tale comes from the Paris home of the Duke of Orleans, brother of the King of France, where on Saint Valentine’s Day 1402, there assembled certain noble folk, rich in honor...

. Go, Fading Leaf __Go, fading leaf, Tell him who thought my heart to spurn __That life is brief (But briefer still his love did burn __I fool enough was to return). __Tell him who sold Our shaky venture for the rock __Of love grown cold: He ought to’ve taken...

. How To Be Like Byron Bright butterfly, why do you fade Into that duller, browner shade That strays into the flame at night? You’ve lost your nature’s vibrant light And seek it in another source. For you, I’ll heartily endorse A colorful biography To help you live by, dogma-free....

X Every Little Thing I. His Version She treasured every little thing that you                gave her: the sparrow necklace (hazel blueto match her eyes) the bracelet slipped insidethe box of chocolate treats---the wine train ride.And it's not been just things, but moments too: the...

. “Di pensier in pensier, di monte in monte” by Francesco Petrarch (1304-1374) __From thought to thought, from mountain to mountain, Love guides me, and every path in which I’ve strayed is hostile to a life of tranquility. __But if a stream or gushing spring, like a fountain, patters on...

_ I How will I know you or will you know me?When every bird has hurtled to the ground,When every whale and every fish has drowned,And every beast, engaged in killing spreeHas eaten every one that cannot flee;When all our merchant ships have run agroundWhose crews, surviving tidal wave have...

  The road of love looks smooth at first and seems as if it has no end. The wise know that the way is cursed, and heartache lies around the bend. The route has hills, and we can't see what lies upon the other side; yet we drive on, love's...

  On Marriage I married a girl named Sue And alas! She married me too!     As Then, So Now When years ago and many ages since My flaming ardor flared (now fondness thrives For you, most wondrous of all wondrous wives), You turned this mortal pittance to a...

  Nothing Ventured an office romance "What more do you want?" he inquired without guile. ---Can it really be true that my feelings don't show?--- She marveled within, and, suppressing a smile, Inventoried the things he appeared not to know: I want more than greetings on alternate Mondays And occasional...

  The Immigrant As his ship now departs to cross over the sea, He looks back as he fondly remembers The dear family he leaves, the quaint house by the lea, And two eyes that once sparkled like embers. For the passion he saw in those eyes, like his own,...

What if I do compare you to a rose Or summer’s day or beauty like the night, Or drone of how I’d sit and drink a coke With you instead of viewing every sight This world can give?—the seven wonders are No wonder without you. Or should I count The...

  When You Love When you love The heart of one, Life makes sense With each new sun. You start each day With thoughts of her. You do your best “We” must endure. To be the man She sees in you, You now trust this--- With her, can do. And...

  Endless Dream I walk the trail, in hopes of reaching you, As winter sheds her tears of crystal ice. I rise above snow drifts, the trail to view, But find my steps alone do not suffice. On knees I crawl across the banks of snow, As yearnings for your...

I Loved You... I loved you, and I probably still do, and for a while, the feeling may remain, But let my love no longer trouble you... I do not wish to cause you any pain I loved you, and the hopelessness I knew The jealousy, the shyness-though in vain...

The Once-Lost Land The arm that threw the disc of day __Across the sky we know must dim, The hand that strewed the Milky Way __Where angels swim, From far beyond the farthest star Composed the darkness that we are. His light it is that we call ours: __The morning...

  Orchards Let Light In “Oh to be like ‘The Man who Planted Trees’” There is a grove that in the meadow grows Where stately fruit-filled stanchions bloom And in the fruit there is a juice that flows Like water breaking from a pregnant womb. As misty dreams rise with...

  In a time long ago, where the high myrtles grow, Lived a tribe of the Bellenden Range. While below, on the plain, in their tropic domain Lived a tribe known for hostile exchange; They had hatchets and spears, paint from eyebrows to ears, And a sliver of bone through...