love poems

Lovely Words : What Love Really Is

I found this post on Tumblr a long time ago and wrote it down. The real post has pictures of the written notes from the actual children. It’s one worth sharing…

4-8 Year Olds Describe Love

Rebecca, Age 8: When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That’s love.

Danny, Age 7: Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure it tastes ok.

Terri, Age 4: Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.

Nikka, Age 6: If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.

Elaine, Age 5: Love is when mommy gives daddy the best piece of chicken.

Chris, Age 7: Love is when mommy sees daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he’s handsomer than Robert Radford.

Mary Ann, Age 4: Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.

 

(I’m not sure why I put the picture of the dog, but he’s just so darn cute!!)

Happy Valentines Day!

Enjoy.

XO, A

The Hopeless Romantic

I begged to be loved by your very best heart

It didn’t happen so I pushed us apart.

Finally I received everything I’d ever want

But I had then become the one with the cold heart

So I took it for granted and tore it apart.

So now, you see the hopeless romantic in me,

the hopeless romantic in hopeless romantic

Constantly taking what they have for granted

Because they’re always wanting more,

Always over dramatic

Giving all your heart to people and expecting it all back

Not giving oneself their whole heart because they’ve taken that for granted.

So now I’ll tell my grandkids the story about the man that got away

I’ll tell them how to care for a heart the best way

And make sure it doesn’t run away.

But I’ll watch them do the same as me

And let their hopeless heart take the best love away.

-A

(IMG via stylestudiesx)

The Best I Could Be

I tried the best I could

To be the best I could

For even the worst of you

Just so you could be the best you could to me.

But the best I could wasn’t good enough

To make you the best you could be to me.

And even when I see the sun shining from your eyes

And flowers sprouting

With every step that rises from the dirt

I trail behind

Dragging weeds

Because that’s the best I can be.

A tiny weed

Scattered through your flowers

Because what you see of me

Is what I have come to be

And the best I will ever be

Is as great as you make me.

I see the best in you

But you don’t see the best in me

And therefore we can never be.

Even though this is the truth

I will stay and admire you

Until the weeds have eaten all your flowers away

And you ask me to leave.

But until then

I will be the best that I can be

For even the worst of you.

·A

Washing Away

The waves of the night crash down

Leaving a mist of salt that finds its way through my window.

That night, we sleep like the sea

Tossing and turning in rapid motion.

Some nights, the waves of a high tide swallow our souls and not a word is to be said

No soft touch

No existence

No look into his eyes.

But in those calm nights, where the waves slide onto the shore and a single shush of water can be heard,

We are one.

Your eyes, shining like the moon

The warmth of your skin wrapped around me

Swallowing me.

And then my heart beats again in that perfect, slow rhythm

Like the water sliding onto the shore on a calm,

summer night.

•A