Best Poems About / On PASSION
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237.
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A Kiss
Passion as was the fruit
Upon his lips
Sweet juices from thy lips
As passion slid
Toward uplifting bliss
Has these nights of heated kiss
Have troubled within wanton bliss
As your lust lies within me as we lie
In fantasy
Hear your heart to trust what's there
For I shall not fall away from your retreat
To slumber sleep.
Betty Stewart
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Read more: passion poems, lust poems, trust poems, kiss poems, sleep poems, heart poems
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238.
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Deep Down
Deep down inside me, a passion burns
Deep down in me, a secret passion is rising
Making me desire you more, making me jealous
The feeling that I can not breath and exist without you
The idea that there is only one for me, you and, only you
The wanting deep down, trying to escape me, trying to be spoken
The feeling which cannot be described in written or words spoken
Your heart telling you want that person more, that you want them in your arms
Dreams filled with only you make my nights fly by, dreams of ideal situations
Dreams of nights cuddled up warm to you and passionate nights out on the river
Love can find its own way, speak true the words you feel, never hold back
Michael James Kennedy Findlay
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239.
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PH passions: Falling In And Out Of Love
Passion
Ive got a new passion, cant stop writing
maudlin poetry when experiencing these
heavenly transports, least Ive learnt to
hold my tongue and not drive colleagues
up the wall with my odes to joy, but I have
to write about it so much to express a host
of joyous emotions that is overpowering,
juvenile and magnificent all at the same time
Stones
In the old days I fell in love with stones
collecting them illegally in nature resorts,
walking back and forth with enormous stones
between campsite and beachfront, sitting up
till three in the morning playing with them,
at home varnishing them and placing them
all over the house till the mess was too much
and the kids started throwing them around
Shells
Then I had a love affair with shells, collecting
them for hours and lovingly washing them in
the bath, sorting them then arranging the small
shells in the big ones, pasting them down with
salt and icing sugar, a flimsy affair but so delicate
and enchanting, covering them with cellophane
handing them out as gifts to my friends what
they did about the ants I dont know
Branch and Rope
Then I hung up the branch of a tree in my office
decorating it with glitter and shells and anything
nice, pictures of fairies and elves, and then
criss-crossed the ceiling with rope on which
to hang more fanciful stuff, even condom balloons
when it was forced upon us during a promotional
campaign, feathers and small toys I secretly took
from the kids rooms in a bid to save them
Bricks
Feeling quite insulted when my boss objected to
this lovely mobile of mine whereas the cleaners
designated me the local sangoma an honourary
title, of course - then I discovered bricks, the red
clay ones called mamparas that glow with life
and feel so good to the touch, I licked them and
took them into the bath, the easiest way to clean
them and scratching the bathtub irreparably, then
Gross
Pasting dried leaves and flowers on them, finishing
off with silver glitter, a wonderful mess, brought
them to the office one by one, bricks, dust, clay,
dried flowers and glitter messing everywhere
Because of my odes to clay bricks a translator
actually licked one - when I saw how gross it looked,
I was most heartily ashamed and never did it again
at least not where other people could see me
Grass Phase
Then I had a grass phase, being fascinated with
golden elephant grass, I stashed grass everywhere
and it was beautiful, but hubby was quite disgusted,
grass is messy and we dont live in a den so out
they went then the stringing little-glitter-thingies
everywhere-phase came and went, it seemed that
passion phases were over - nowadays my taste
is more sophisticated but
An Affliction
I still cant get rid of another affliction: Licking an
empty ice-cream plate; always making sure the kids
cant see me, but I know it is terrible all the same-
only my mother forbade us to do it when we were
small, so it became a token of solidarity among us
that we licked those plates in spite of her edicts
against it, In any case, after that I discovered PH
and my passions drove people wild, now I fall in
and out of love without anyone being the wiser
Margaret Alice
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240.
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Adoration
Who does not feel desire unending
To solace through his daily strife,
With some mysterious Mental Blending,
The hungry loneliness of life?
Until, by sudden passion shaken,
As terriers shake a rat at play,
He finds, all blindly, he has taken
The old, Hereditary way.
Yet, in the moment of communion,
The very heart of passion's fire,
His spirit spurns the mortal union,
'Not this, not this, the Soul's desire!'
* * * *
Oh You, by whom my life is riven,
And reft away from my control,
Take back the hours of passion given!
Love me one moment from your soul.
Although I once, in ardent fashion,
Implored you long to give me this;
(In hopes to stem, or stifle, passion)
Your hair to touch, your lips to kiss
Now that your gracious self has granted
The loveliness you hold as naught,
I find, alas! not that I wanted--
Possession has not stifled Thought.
Desire its aim has only shifted,--
Built hopes upon another plan,
And I in love for you have drifted
Beyond all passion known to man.
Beyond all dreams of soft caresses
The solacing of any kiss,--
Beyond the fragrance of your tresses
(Once I had sold my soul for this!)
But now I crave no mortal union
(Thanks for that sweetness in the past);
I need some subtle, strange communion,
Some sense that _I_ join _you_, at last.
Long past the pulse and pain of passion,
Long left the limits of all love,--
I crave some nearer, fuller fashion,
Some unknown way, beyond, above,--
Some infinitely inner fusion,
As Wave with Water; Flame with Fire,--
Let me dream once the dear delusion
That I am You, Oh, Heart's Desire!
Your kindness lent to my caresses
That beauty you so lightly prize,--
The midnight of your sable tresses,
The twilight of your shadowed eyes.
Ah, for that gift all thanks are given!
Yet, Oh, adored, beyond control,
Count all the passionate past forgiven
And love me once, once, from your soul.
Laurence Hope
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