I want so much for my lover. At night when our beds are drawn close together I waken and see his dear yellow head on the pillow - sometimes his arm thrown over on my bed - and I kiss his hand, very softly so that it will not waken him.
quote by Dawn Powell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Kiss Me Dear
Kiss me dear kiss with softly soft*
Kiss me dear kiss with your desire*
Kiss me dear kiss with a little bite*
Kiss me dear kiss with your heart*
Kiss me dear kiss with your warm hug*
Kiss me dear kiss with your smooth lips*
Kiss me dear kiss with your hopes*
Kiss me dear kiss with your pray*
Kiss me dear kiss with your honestly*
Kiss me dear kiss with your loves*
Kiss me dear kiss with your happiness*
Kiss me dear kiss with happily*
Kiss me dear kiss with heartbeat*
Kiss me dear kiss with really*
Kiss me dear kiss with admirable*
Kiss me dear kiss with quietly*
Kiss me dear kiss with realy on*
Kiss me dear kiss with require*
Kiss me dear kiss me now and forevermore*
I'need you for strong standing with me**
Lullaby
My little one, sleep softly
Among the toys and flowers.
Sleep softly, O my first-born son,
Through all the long dark hours.
And if you waken far away
I shall be wandering too.
If far away you run and play
My heart must follow you.
Sleep softly, O my baby,
And smile down in your sleep.
Here are red rose-buds for your bed—
Smile, and I will not weep.
We made our pledge—you had no fear;
What then to fear have I?
Though long you sleep, I shall be near;
So hush—we must not cry.
Sleep softly, dear one, softly—
They cannot part us now;
Forever rest here on my breast,
My kiss upon your brow.
What though they hide a little grave
With dream-flowers false or true?
What difference? We will just be brave
Together—I and you.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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An echo for a novel dream
Holding a loss with great esteem
He lay asleep with old shadows
Circumvent not, new waken dream
Beneath the sun there lay a bream
Too much ardor for faithful ones
Holding a loss with great esteem
Once blue, now frozen stood a stream
A love withdrew when fall was young
Circumvent not, new waken dream
Each pebble thrown, love was the theme
All was the same, his morning breaths
Holding a loss with great esteem
Two souls conjoined, he was the seam
Her hasty fleet fluttered the wind
Circumvent not, new waken dream
Two childhoods known, both were extreme
Her love took side, and there stood time
Holding a loss with great esteem
Circumvent not, new waken dream
Hunting Song
Waken, lords and ladies gay,
On the mountain dawns the day;
All the jolly chase is here
With hawk and horse and hunting-spear,
Hounds are in their couples yelling,
Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling,
Merrily, merrily mingle they
Waken, lords and ladies gay.
Waken, lords and ladies gay,
The mist has left the mountain gray;
Springlets in the dawn are steaming,
Diamonds on the brake are gleaming;
And foresters have busy been
To track the buck in thicket green;
Now we come to chant our lay,
Waken, lords and ladies gay.
Waken, lords and ladies gay,
To the greenwood haste away;
We can show you where he lies,
Fleet of foot and tall of size;
We can show the marks he made
When 'gainst the oak his antlers fray'd;
You shall see him brought to bay
Waken, lords and ladies gay.
Louder, louder chant the lay,
Waken, lords and ladies gay!
Tell them youth and mirth and glee
Run a course as well as we;
Time, stern huntsman! who can balk,
Staunch as hound and fleet as hawk:
Think of this, and rise with day,
Gentle lords and ladies gay!
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Kiss Me Dear..Part3
Kiss me dear kiss me with lustful.
Kiss me dear kiss me with luxurious.
Kiss me dear kiss me with lyrical.
Kiss me dear kiss me with lovable.
Kiss me dear kiss me with humorous.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hummed.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hugged.
Kiss me dear kiss me with hopeful.
Kiss me dear kiss me with gutsy.
Kiss me dear kiss me with guaranty.
Kiss me dear kiss me with gratified.
Kiss me dear kiss me with graciousness.
Couse your kiss is a consomme.............
It's different taste..........
and i'will needs again...
Kiss me dear kiss me on sunday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on monday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on tuesday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on wednesday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on thursday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on friday.
Kiss me dear kiss me on saturday.
Couse your kiss is my dish everyday.
and i'will needs again.
Kiss me dear kiss me on january.
Kiss me dear kiss me on february.
Kiss me dear kiss me on march.
Kiss me dear kiss me on april.
Kiss me dear kiss me on may.
Kiss me dear kiss me on june.
Kiss me dear kiss me on july.
Kiss me dear kiss me on august.
Kiss me dear kiss me on september.
Kiss me dear kiss me on october.
Kiss me dear kiss me on november.
Kiss me dear kiss me on december.
Couse your kiss is my: every times
every days
every month
and every years.
I'will needs again
Kiss me.
kiss me and make the sorrowful pain go away
kiss me and tell me everything will soon be okay
kiss me and hold me tightly close to you
kiss me and whisper sweet words that are true
kiss me and and lay me on the bed
kiss me from my toes to my head
kiss me here and kiss me there
kiss me all over and anywhere
kiss me softly
and kiss me hardly
kiss me from ear to ear
kiss me after wipe my tear
kiss me kiss me kiss me more
and if you can't do that at least for once let me through the door
poem by Jason Yarkie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A hundredth kiss
Kss me dear kiss me a hundredfold..
This is me alone..
The hush before the night..
My action are aboveboard too much loving you
Kiss me dear kiss me a hundredfold
When still to close my eyes
the day drew to a close.
I was scare when I had open this eyes..
you did go...
kiss me dear kiss me a hundredfold
kiss me dear kiss me until the rime..
Dont makes the rigmarole...
Lets follow the bird sings..
This is me happy...
Tabitha
As if just asleep I was waken
with the light shining brightly in my eyes,
when darkness did disappear suddenly
and I came alive again.
There is nothing strange to tell anyone,
as I bear no knowledge of exactly how death is
and everyone keeps asking inquisitive
but I cannot disguise my own ignorance.
Here I heard children laughing joyfully
and became aware of the sun shining bright,
to me the light of God was always present,
as a kind of presence in the dark night.
As if just asleep I was waken
and I came alive again.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ah, the Pleasure
Ah, the pleasure to sleep with your lover,
to feel body warmth,
soft gently breath of contented sleep,
comfort in a space shared,
an arm gently over your body,
a movement in sleep which leads to a cuddle or embrace,
perhaps even a sleepy kiss and to sleep again with your lover,
to know so much pleasure in time not concious to the woken mind,
to touch and feel safe,
to gently waken after sleeping with your lover,
Ah, the pleasure to sleep with your lover..............
This was my thoughts after a shared wonderful weekend with my lover.
poem by Linda Dyer
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To A Dead Lover
The dark is thrown
Back from the brightness, like hair
Cast over a shoulder.
I am alone,
Four years older;
Like the chairs and the walls
Which I once watched brighten
With you beside me. I was to waken
Never like this, whatever came or was taken.
The stalk grows, the year beats on the wind.
Apples come, and the month for their fall.
The bark spreads, the roots tighten.
Though today be the last
Or tomorrow all,
You will not mind.
That I may not remember
Does not matter.
I shall not be with you again.
What we knew, even now
Must scatter
And be ruined, and blow
Like dust in the rain.
You have been dead a long season
And have less than desire
Who were lover with lover;
And I have life—that old reason
To wait for what comes,
To leave what is over.
poem by Louise Bogan
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The Beds Too Big Without You
Beds too big without you
Cold wind blows right thru my open door
I cant sleep with your memory
Dreaming dreams of what used to be
When she left I was cold inside
That look on my face was just pride
No regrets no love no tears
Living on my own was the least of my fears
Beds too big without you
The beds too big without you
The beds too big
Without you
Since that day when youd gone
Just had to carry on
I get thru day but late at night
Made love to my pillow but it didnt feel right
Every day, just the same
Old rules for the same old game
All I gained was heartache
All I made was one mistake
Now the beds too big without you
The beds too big without you
The beds too big
Without you
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pillow
I try to get comfortable in my bed
But there's always something wrong
with the pillow ‘neath my head.
It's either too warm or sometimes too cold.
I turn it, pummel it
Then toss it aside instead.
But then I miss it and can't decide
Shall I grab it again
Or count to ten?
How can I sleep with no support?
My neck gets stiff. My eyes won't close
And all because of the pillow I chose.
Maybe I need a silk pillowcase,
one that's fringed with fancy lace.
Or maybe it's not the pillow to blame.
Maybe it's my head that's not the same.
It's filled with words and melodies
That makes my pillow hard to please.
I'll try to get comfortable again tonight.
It's my head on that pillow
or a pillow fight.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Lethe
NOR skin nor hide nor fleece
Shall cover you,
Nor curtain of crimson nor fine
Shelter of cedar-wood be over you,
Nor the fir-tree
Nor the pine.
Nor sight of whin nor gorse
Nor river-yew,
Nor fragrance of flowering bush,
Nor wailing of reed-bird to waken you,
Nor of linnet,
Nor of thrush.
Nor word nor touch nor sight
Of lover, you
Shall long through the night but for this:
The roll of the full tide to cover you
Without question,
Without kiss.
poem by Hilda Doolittle
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The Broomfield Hill
There was a knight and lady bright
Set trysts amo the broom,
The one to come at morning eav,
The other at afternoon.
'I'll wager a wager wi' you,' he said,
'An hundred marks and ten,
That ye shall not go to Broomfield Hills,
Return a maiden again.'
'I'll wager a wager wi' you,' she said,
'A hundred pounds and ten,
That I will gang to Broomfield Hills,
A maiden return again.'
The lady stands in her bower door,
And thus she made her mane:
'Oh, shall I gang to Broomfield Hills,
Or shall I stay at hame?
'If I do gang to Broomfield Hills
A maid I'll not return;
But if I stay from Broomfield Hills,
I'll be a maid mis-sworn.'
Then out it speaks an auld witch wife,
Sat in the bower aboon:
'O ye shall gang to Broomfield Hills,
Ye shall not stay at hame.
'But when ye gang to Broomfield Hills,
Walk nine times round and round;
Down below a bonny burn bank,
Ye'll find your love sleeping sound.
'Ye'll pu the bloom frae off the broom,
Strew't at his head and feet,
And aye the thicker that ye do strew,
The sounder he will sleep.
'The broach that is on your napkin,
Put it on his breast bane,
To let him know, when he does wake,
That's true love's come and gane.
'The rings that are on your fingers,
Lay them down on a stane,
To let him know, when he does wake,
That's true love's come and gane.
'And when he hae your work all done,
Ye'll gang to a bush o' broom,
And then you'll hear what he will say,
When he sees ye are gane.'
When she came to Broomfield Hills,
She walked it nine times round,
And down below yon burn bank,
She found him sleeping sound.
She pu'd the bloom frae off the broom,
Strew'd it at 's head and feet,
And aye the thicker that she strewd,
The sounder he did sleep.
The broach that was on her napkin,
She put it on his breast-bane,
To let him know, when he did wake,
His love was come and gane.
The rings that were on her fingers,
She laid upon a stane,
To let him know, when he did wake,
His love was come and gane.
Now when she had her work all dune,
She went to a bush o' broom,
That she might hear what he did say,
When he saw that she was gane.
'O where were ye my guid grey hound,
That I paid for sae dear,
Ye didna waken me frae my sleep
When my true love was sae near?'
'I scraped wi' my foot, master,
Till a' my collars rang,
But still the mair that I did scrape,
Waken woud ye nane.'
'Where were ye, my bony brown steed,
That I paid for sae dear,
That ye woudna waken me out o' my sleep
When my love was sae near?'
'I patted wi my foot, master,
Till a' my bridles rang,
But the mair that I did patt,
Waken woud ye nane.'
'O where were ye, my gay goss-hawk
That I paid for sae dear,
That ye woudna waken me out o' my sleep
When ye saw my love near?'
'I flapped wi my wings, master,
Till a' my bells they rang,
But still, the mair that I did flap,
Waken woud ye nane.'
'O where were ye, my merry young men
That I pay meat and fee,
That ye woudna waken me out o' my sleep
When my love ye did see?'
'Ye'll sleep mair on the night, master,
And wake mair on the day;
Gae sooner down to Broomfield Hills
When ye've sic pranks to play.
'If I had seen any armed men
Come riding over the hill--
But I saw but a fair lady
Come quietly you until.'
'O wae mat worth yow, my young men,
That I pay meat and fee,
That ye woudna waken me frae sleep
When ye my love did see?
'O had I waked when she was nigh,
And o her got my will,
I shoudna cared upon the morn
The sma birds o her were fill.'
When she went out, right bitter she wept,
But singing came she hame;
Says, 'I hae been at Broomfield Hills,
And maid returned again.'
poem by Andrew Lang
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Stanzas To A Hindoo Air
Oh! my lonely--lonely--lonely--Pillow!
Where is my lover? where is my lover?
Is it his bark which my dreary dreams discover?
Far--far away! and alone along the billow?
Oh! my lonely-lonely-lonely-Pillow!
Why must my head ache where his gentle brow lay?
How the long night flags lovelessly and slowly,
And my head droops over thee like the willow!
Oh! thou, my sad and solitary Pillow!
Send me kind dreams to keep my heart from breaking,
In return for the tears I shed upon thee waking;
Let me not die till he comes back o'er the billow.
Then if thou wilt--no more my lonely Pillow,
In one embrace let these arms again enfold him,
And then expire of the joy-but to behold him!
Oh! my lone bosom!-oh! my lonely Pillow!
The Bond.
Love me for Love's sake till the dream is done,
And when we waken let us part for aye!
No bond but this; it is the better way,
For life spun so may easy be unspun,
The gain or loss directly reckoned on
What is and was; since marriage is no more
When either heart is like a sapless core
That has no sense of the maturing sun.
All comes at last to this, and surely we
Shall never waken if the dream is true,
Never put by the heart's reality,
Nor either ever find another who
Shall take from us the tender poesy
Which you have found in me, and I in you.
poem by Robert Crawford
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Ghosts
YES--kiss my forehead where the pain
Is grinding outwards from my brain!
But will not pity teach you, too,
To kiss these lips no fire burns through--
These cheeks, made colourless and thin
By years you had no portion in--
These weary eyes that wake and ache
Not for your sake--not for your sake:
Kiss, child, and let your kisses see
If they can find the heart in me!
There is a heart--or used to be!
I think the pain is growing less
Under your passionless caress--
Ah! could you teach my lips to crave
But just such kisses as you gave,
And could you, treading my life's ways,
But lay these ghosts of dear dead days
That walk my world by day and night,
And bar the way of all delight--
If at your touch should waken--.. . . Vain!
From heaven itself my soul would plain:
'Give me my ghosts, my ghosts again!'
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Innocently In Love
We sit on your bed
And watch some TV
When I look at you
And you look at me.
You smile and I giggle
Then you tackle me down
When you kiss me softly
And my head spins around
We sit back up
You kiss my cheek
You lay your head on my shoulder
And my body feels weak
You kiss my neck softly
And I secretly smile
You make your way up to my mouth
And we kiss for a while
My nervousness is gone
Disappeared somewhere up above
I think that I might be
Innocently in love.
poem by Brie Carter
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Pillow
Your words
fell softly
On my pillow.
I hear them.
Like a bell
Far out to sea.
Nobody
Can console a weeping willow.
Or a caged bird
Yearning to be free.
Your tears
Fell softly
On my pillow.
I feel them.
Like summer rain
Upon my tongue.
As God
Spins cotton candy clouds
That billow.
I look for morning star
Where dreams once clung.
On my pillow
I can still smell your hair.
And your perfume
Like sweet flowers
Everywhere.
I can touch you
As my soul
Can feel a tune.
Love in the shadows
Still silhouetted
By the moon.
On my pillow
I see stardust
Glint of jade.
Sweet remnants
Of the promises we made.
When the magic flew,
Moonbeams
Were left behind.
On my pillow
Bathed in blue.
You kiss my mind.
poem by Kevin East
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Lonely is the Night without a Pillow
dear dream please forgive my eyes
if the night closely peep the
morning sunlight, for nothing leaves the crickets
awake of sweet melody until everybody will greet
the morning glory of the stars asleep
twig the ray of every tree for the wind, gallops to
lay, snore the thundering rugged stream down
to the river flow as it
sing, and looks the night as it wait the morning sky,
wondering how it goes in the tick tock of the clock
oh! ladder of every dream, a pillow comes closer my
dear pillow,
for I will make you stay in my bed with a kiss
in your head, do what the eyes and the lips say and
make my day happy as you'll be
sleep my wonderful buddy the night comes in like a
flake of snow cool as it touches your body.....
poem by Antonio Liao
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