Valentine's Day Love Poems

Valentine's Day Love Poems
How Do I Love Thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being an ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the Breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
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Mother's Valentine
My mother made a valentine
So very long ago
And decked it out all prettily
Like for a special beau.

I watched her as she cut the heart
Then frilled it up with lace
And worked artistically away,
A smile upon her face.

She wove a ribbon, shiny red,
Among the lace so white
Then placed a picture of herself
Through a slit she cut inside.

I saw the words, “I love you, Dear,
I'm proud to be your wife
You're given me the blessings
Of a blissful, wedded life.”

I felt like laughing out for joy,
My childish heart was glad!
Mom's special valentine would go
To a special beau named Dad.
Lucille King
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Valentine Memories
Grandma's book of valentines
Rekindles memory's flame,
Of days when she was just a girl
And life a happy game.

Each lace-edged card a getting bears
From friends of long ago,
Girls in gingham dresses
And that “special” Sunday beau.

It brings a twinkle to her eye,
Dissolving lines of age,
As we sit in the lamplight
And turn each well worn page.

It makes me kind of wonder
f perhaps some distant day,
A grandchild shall sit at my side
And leaf each page this way.

‘Cause I could sit for hours,
There at my grandma's knee,
And listen to the stories
That the valentines set free.

A book of antique valentines
That reaches black in time
To tell the tales of yesteryear
In illustrated rhyme.

Top

To Celia
Drink to me, only, with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kisse but in the cup,
And Ile not look for wine.
The thirst, that from the soule doth rise,
Doth aske a drink divine:
But might I of Jove's Nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee, late, a rosie wreath,
Not so much honoring thee,
As giving it a hope, that there
It could not withered be.
But thou thereon did'st onely breathe,
And sent'st it back to mee:
Since when it growes, and smells, I sweare,
Not of it selfe, but thee.

One Perfect Rose
A single flow'r he sent me, since we met,
All tenderly his messenger he chose;
Deep-hearted pure, with scented dew still wet - -
One perfect rose.

I know the language of the floweret.
“My fragile leaves,” it said, “his heart enclose.”
Love long has taken for his amulet
One perfect rose.

Why is it no one ever sent yet
One perfect limousine, do you suppose?
Ah no, it's always just my luck to get
One perfect rose.
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It's More Than Saying I Love You

We give on this day candy and flowers,
But we never stop to say thank you for the many hours.
You have stood by my side and gave a smile,
As if to tell our hearts it's been worth every mile.
No need to buy a teddy bear or even a card,
It's pretty simple and not at all hard.
Just put your arms around me and hold me tight,
And say without words that in your heart all is right.
You may say I Love You throughout the year,
But on this day you need to make sure.
The words so sweet and straight from your heart,
That your life would be lonely without my part.
So put forth the effort and take the time,
Look me in the eye and say I'm glad you're mine.