Category: Love

When my love is far away,
Words I write will not convey
All the thoughts a willing tongue
Would, like pearls, have neatly strung.

Yet, when she is close, I stand
Like a schoolboy, hat in hand,
Dumb, without one pretty speech
Resembing those Great Lovers teach.

Then her eyes, without a word,
Tell me that her heart has heard!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, April 4, 1950

I bring out the best in thee–
You bring out the beast in me!

by Ray Romine Saturday, October 5, 1946

Your kisses they were dynamite
I stole just to amuse,
All unaware my lips were quite
The necessary fuse.

by Ray Romine Tuesday, January 7, 1947

I took one smallish look at him:
Went overboard I can’t swim…

by Ray Romine Monday, October 14, 1946

“Love laughs at locksmiths”-
But coming closer
Home, it won’t work
On the grocer.

by Ray Romine Thursday, April 13, 1950

“Big things have small beginnings”–
Or so I’ve ever heard;
Then how explain our meeting, dear,
And the way our hearts were stirred?

Perhaps our big beginning
Will end a molecule?
No–we are the exception
That goes to prove the rule!

by Ray Romine Monday, October 20, 1947

Like a thunder-shower considered over.
Charging back from the horizon
To shatter our small complacencies
Into smaller bits about our feet,
So has Love,
Long since passed over.
Rolled thundering overhead again
To plague my mind’s peace
And shake my very soul.

And like a somnambulist
Who does something he could not possibly have foreseen,
Nor understand after,
I, enthralled, entranced, do re-embark
Upon a course
I seem but vaguely
To remember
Having travelled once before.

(Experiment with similes, sans
rhyme, rhythm, or maybe sense)

by Ray Romine Monday, November 15, 1943

Adoring, trusting, giving of
Oneself freely- – this is love .

by Ray Romine Tuesday, May 2, 1950

Let a spark stand for someone we only say Hi to,
And a safe-from-the-elements lantern, for friends;
If a match quickly scratched is the person we sigh to-
Then love is a candle that burns at both ends .

by Ray Romine Friday, September 2, 1949

I’ve analyzed your love for me–
Perhaps a bit too late:
Some element of knowing me
Has turned your love to hate.

Yet even loathing has its points,
And this will have to do me:
Although you’ve touched the two extremes,
You’re not indifferent to me!

by Ray Romine Wednesday, October 2, 1946