Category Archives: William Shakespeare poems and quotes

Deep Romantic poems:I Feel You as Soft Touches poem & Seconds Within Your Light poem by Neva rflores/Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare/Helas!by Oscar Wilde/ Our union is like this by Hafiz

Music
Yiruma-Autumn Scene

I Feel You as Soft Touches
Neva Flores

I want to see the thoughts
you breathe,
hear your words and collect them,
cradled in your honesty.
I could watch the beauty in your eyes
for eternity
without ever wishing
to walk away.

You give me your hand
and I close my eyes,
hear the whisper of the sea
and I remember how my heart
has searched for one
such as you
knowing I have found my home.

My love,
the world could dance
on the shells of their falsehood
with words
written in beautiful calligraphy
and your words
would continue to run in my veins
like Morse code
tapping out who I am
to me.

You fill my hope chest with your spirit
lifting my head
from the table of where my mind wanders
when I forget
to stop and smell the roses along the way.
Your words
bring precious harmony
into play.

I look through the window of my heart
where you
have pressed your lips
on a photograph of your words
and I feel you as soft touches
on my soul.
I collect them one by one
to remember,
until you again I hold.


Rob Hefferan Art

Seconds Within Your Light
Neva Flores

Coming through the night I feel strange seconds
within a familiar light.
Here is where my imagination led me to think
no one heard my plight.

Still I smiled in wonder, though the darkness
seemed stronger every second.
Because I yearned to hear your words,
know my life was in your presence.

I bade farewell to the night , closed my eyes
let those seconds pass right by.
As that familiar light that came inside,
kept your face within my sight.


William Paxton art

Helas!
Oscar Wilde

To drift with every passion till my soul
Is a stringed lute on which all winds can play,
Is it for this that I have given away
Mine ancient wisdom, and austere control?
Methinks my life is a twice-written scroll
Scrawled over on some boyish holiday
With idle songs for pipe and virelay,

Which do but mar the secret of the whole.
Surely there was a time I might have trod
The sunlit heights, and from life’s dissonance
Struck one clear chord to reach the ears of God:
Is that time dead? lo! with a little rod
I did but touch the honey of romance —
And must I lose a soul’s inheritance?


Karen Tarlton Art

Sonnet 116
William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Our union is like this
Hafiz

Our union is like this: You feel cold, so I reach for a blanket to cover our shivering feet.

A hunger comes into your body, so I run to my garden and start digging potatoes.

You asked for a few words of comfort and guidance, and I quickly kneel by your side offering you a whole book as a gift.

You ache with loneliness one night so much you weep, and I say here is a rope, tie it around me, I will be your companion for life.

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind by William Shakespeare

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind
Act II, Scene 7 from As You Like It
by William Shakespeare

Blow, blow, thou winter wind.
Thou art not so unkind
As man’s ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then, heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
That dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:

Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As friend remember’d not.
Heigh-ho! sing, &c.

On world and people by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and William Shakespeare


Hubert Robert Art

All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.
William Shakespeare

Oh, what a glory doth this world put on, for him who with a fervent heart goes forth under the bright and glorious sky, and looks on duties well performed, and days well spent.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Inspirational Romantic love quotes


Rob Hefferan Art

No sooner met but they looked; no sooner looked but they loved; no sooner loved but they sighed; no sooner sighed but they asked one another the reason; no sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy.

Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.
William Shakespeare

How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears!
W.Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

But, O, what damned minutes tells he o’er Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves!
W.Shakespeare, Othello

God gives us love. Something to love he lends us; but, when love is grown to ripeness, that on which it throve falls off, and love is left alone.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Ask not of me, love, what is love?
Ask what is good of God above;
Ask of the great sun what is light;
Ask what is darkness of the night;
Ask sin of what may be forgiven;
Ask what is happiness of heaven;
Ask what is folly of the crowd;
Ask what is fashion of the shroud;
Ask what is sweetness of thy kiss;
Ask of thyself what beauty is.
Philip James Bailey, Festus

SONNET 17 by William Shakespeare

SONNET 17
William Shakespeare

Who will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were fill’d with your most high deserts?
Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say ‘This poet lies:
Such heavenly touches ne’er touch’d earthly faces.’
So should my papers yellow’d with their age
Be scorn’d like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be term’d a poet’s rage
And stretched metre of an antique song:
But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice; in it and in my rhyme.

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