Love has the power to change lives. Our collection of poems about falling in love can make you understand that the universe looks more colorful when you are in love and you feel like surrendering yourself to that special someone. Reading these poems could also make you reminisce about your romantic episodes in life or your first love. You may even share some favorite poems with your loved one and cherish the beautiful moments you spent together.
3 Poems About Falling In Love
Even if you have not fallen in love yet or experienced the feelings that falling in love brings, become a poet in love and feel the joy of falling in love by reading these poems.
1. To Be In Love To be in love
Is to touch with a lighter hand. In yourself you stretch, you are well. You look at things Through his eyes. A cardinal is red. A sky is blue. Suddenly you know he knows too. He is not there but You know you are tasting together The winter, or a light spring weather. His hand to take your hand is overmuch. Too much to bear. You cannot look in his eyes Because your pulse must not say What must not be said. When he Shuts a door- Is not there_ Your arms are water. And you are free With a ghastly freedom. You are the beautiful half Of a golden hurt. You remember and covet his mouth To touch, to whisper on. Oh when to declare Is certain Death! Oh when to apprize Is to mesmerize, To see fall down, the Column of Gold, Into the commonest ash. —Gwendolyn Brooks
2. Poem to First Love
To have been told “I love you” by you could well be, for me, the highlight of my life, the best feeling, the best peak on my feeling graph, in the way that the Chrysler building might not be the tallest building in the NY sky but is the best, the most exquisitely spired, or the way that Hank Aaron’s career home-run total is not the highest but the best, the one that signifies the purest greatness. So improbable! To have met you at all and then to have been told in your soft young voice so soon after meeting you: “I love you.” And I felt the mystery of being that you, of being a you and being loved, and what I was, instantly, was someone who could be told “I love you” by someone like you. I was, in that moment, new; you were 19; I was 22; you were impulsive; I was there in front of you, with a future that hadn’t yet been burned for fuel; I had energy; you had beauty; and your eyes were a pale blue, and they backed what you said with all they hadn’t seen, and they were the least ambitious eyes I’d known, the least calculating, and when you spoke and when they shone, perhaps you saw the feeling you caused. Perhaps you saw too that the feeling would stay. —Matthew Yeager
3. Yours
I am yours as the summer air at evening is Possessed by the scent of linden blossoms, As the snowcap gleams with light Lent it by the brimming moon. Without you I’d be an unleafed tree Blasted in a bleakness with no Spring. Your love is the weather of my being. What is an island without the sea? —Daniel Hoffman
