“Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.” ― Edgar Allan Poe
Oh, sorrowed are the screams within my heart;
They crowd the pithy lines of my descant.
The howls have veiled the seeds I sought to plant,
The songs I wrote the day we drew apart.
And yet, tonight I seek in dreams your face,
The smile which held me captive in my youth.
I search for answers veiled with lies as truth,
For you forbid the truth your ears to grace.
So wait for me within the halls of dreams,
And I will read to you the words I've bled.
For, though I know your love for me has fled,
Reciting these old words will drown the screams.
© 2023, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by artjoao from Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain - Enclosed Rhyme
If I depart before you, dear,
Shed just one tear for me.
For brief will be the time you mourn,
A transient pause until the morn,
And then, with you I'll be.
The grave will hold my fleshless bones;
I will return to dust.
Another life in death's embrace,
A darkened room, a lonely place,
To it I will be thrust.
Remember all that we've been through
Since youthful days of bloom.
When married young but full of hope,
With days of pain, we both would cope
And rise above the gloom.
But now that we are old and gray
And near the end of life,
Keep this within your heart and mind...
The grave cannot hold life confined.
Be cheered, my lovely wife.
So hold this truth within your heart...
You'll touch my face again.
In paradise, God will reveal
That even death to Him must kneel,
And I will see you then.
John 5:28, 29; Acts 24:15
© 2022, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by StockSnap from Pixabay
Poetic form: Quintain
A pad and pen lie by his side
This moonless night of fall.
And though he tries to hush his pride,
To only see the tears she cried,
His hands refuse to breach the wall,
A pithy line to scrawl.
His mind, in angst, replays the day
And sees the pain she felt.
For he had let a donkey's bray
Escape his lips without delay,
Not thinking of what pain it dealt
When he shot out his pelt.
Now deep regret besets his mind,
For what he did was wrong.
His hands relent and reach to find
The pad and pen they first declined,
To write for her, ten pages long,
A sentimental song.
© 2022, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by Beccalee from Pixabay
Poetic form: Sexain
A searing ache within my heart
Has taken hold of me.
I've been adrift without a chart,
Forgotten, trodden, loath to start,
Again, like sailors lost at sea,
Unable storms to flee.
But wakened spring has kissed the day
And blushed the sky at dawn.
And ere the birds arise to play,
I cling to my dear love and pray,
To have my woes forever gone,
A joyous day to don.
We rise and hope the day is blest;
Her kiss discards my cares.
I lay my head atop her breast
And thank her for this time of rest,
For keeping me in daily prayers,
While all my pain she bears.
© 2022, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by StockSnap from Pixabay
Poetic form: Sexain
O, a poem lovely as thee
No poet wrote for eyes to see.
Not Frost nor Blake, not even Keats,
Though pens have bled on countless sheets.
And though I've searched both high and low,
Not one has shared your wondrous glow.
I think, perhaps, a future prose,
May capture half your glowing rose.
And yet, I know it will not hold
The salient beauty I behold.
But still, I search in case you go,
So words may fill that day of woe.
© 2022, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by Katzenfee50 from Pixabay
Poetic form: Couplet
Oh, blessed is the wind that caresses your face,
The sun at dawn, when awakened, my dear.
No flower can best your beauty and grace!
And see, high above, the clouds giving chase
To the breath that has kissed the lobe of your ear.
Oh, blessed is the wind that caresses your face.
Your hair, in the breeze, is linen and lace;
Your lips, in the eve, have filled me with cheer.
No flower can best your beauty and grace!
When the sun smiles upon your arms in embrace,
Your eyes, full of life, like embers appear.
Oh, blessed is the wind that caresses your face.
As you twirl in your dance, your steps I'll retrace;
The day that we wed, I'll forever revere.
No flower can best your beauty and grace!
Oh come, my beloved, let's go to our place
And ignite a love the stars wish to peer.
Oh, blessed is the wind that caresses your face!
No flower can best your beauty and grace!
© 2022, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by JacksonDavid from Pixabay
Poetic form: Villanelle
The vinyl record lies untouched,
Its coat a film of dust.
For many years, no hands had clutched
And played the songs of lovers crushed,
Poetic lines that spoke of trust
And life that was unjust.
A man sits down to rest his bones;
His day at work was hard.
He shuts his eyes of weighty stones,
To chase away his aches and groans,
And pressing sadness disregard,
But life had dealt his card.
He then begins to reminisce
And sees himself with her.
He longs to feel her tender kiss,
The years they spent in wedded bliss...
Her scent of jasmine mixed with myrrh...
His heart then starts to stir.
His teary eyes allow a glance
At where the record lies.
Recalling how they loved to dance
Beneath a moonlit night's expanse
While staring at each other's eyes,
He sighs her name and cries.
He reaches for and plays a song
To feel her words once more.
His mind begins to fly along
The paths they took when they were strong...
The mornings walking on the shore
Where love for her he swore.
He hears the voice which crowns her words,
A soothing song of glee.
Like arias of rhythmic birds,
It balms his heart of shattered thirds,
Unshackling pain to set it free,
As if she heard his plea.
© 2022, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by Jace & Afsoon from Unsplash
Poetic form: Sexain
She's bathed in light when she appears;
Faint freckles line her argent skin.
Her dazzling smile is bright tonight;
She skirts the earth's unhurried spin.
I gaze at her ascending form
And smile at her flirtatious ways.
The times she hides behind a cloud
To then display her lover's rays.
For endless times she's danced the nights
While waking stars relight the skies.
She walks with lovers strolling by
And shares the light the sun supplies.
Around me ring the songs of life,
Cacophonies that soothe the mind.
Afar I hear beguiling calls,
The odes of love from two aligned.
My grateful eyes return to her,
Now fully bright, like beaming brides;
It brings to mind the one I love,
The girl in whom my heart resides.
© 2020, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by susan-lu4esm from Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain
Reflecting on his years of youthful strength,
When lilting words his sharpened mind would stir,
The aging poet leans upon his desk,
Then pens his inmost thoughts to share with her.
Behind him, Death, observes his trembling hand.
He smirks as he awaits the poet's end.
Prolonged has been the wait to claim his breath,
To end the endless taunts he's often penned.
The poet inks his thoughts while shedding tears,
For they convey a love he yearns to show.
He knows that soon he'll leave his darling wife,
And all he wants to say will also go.
“My wife and friend, I love you so,” he writes,
“But now I grieve from thoughts of leaving you.
I sense that Death has come for me this night;
He'll end what I had planned to share anew.
But worry not, my lovely flower girl,
For Death cannot erase my words of truth.
They will caress your mind in times of pain
And give you what I hid during my youth.”
And so the poet writes throughout the night,
Composing verses held within his heart.
Unnumbered pages clasp his every word,
Inscribed with what his lips would not impart.
Immersed in thought, he walks toward the bed
And gently sets the pages on his wife.
He softly whispers words of boundless love
And wishes her a long and happy life.
When dawn awakes, his eyes begin to fade
As he repeats the words his heart has said.
Then Death prepares to claim the relished prize
While reading all the words the poet bled.
© 2020, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by congerdesign from Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain
Alas, my flower's bloom begins to fade,
And all that I can do is share her fate.
Her lustrous eyes display a dimmer shade,
Surrendering to time their lively state.
O, selfish time, why won't you hold your rage
And cease demanding tolls to you be paid?
Her supple petal wilts and pales with age;
Away have gone the days that you betrayed.
But you cannot erase the bond we hold
Nor change the inner treasure she displays.
That beauty, spun like finest threads of gold,
Has sealed to endless days my loving gaze.
Her outer garment soon will fade away,
But time her inner grace cannot decay.
© 2020, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by geraldfriedrich2 from Pixabay
Poetic form: Sonnet
To you, my wife, my love, I declare.
My joy and gain, a gift to me, blessed,
A morning flower of beauty and flair!
O flesh of mine, this heart you repair
Whenever sadness tramples my rest.
To you, my wife, my love, I declare.
Your lips of honey with me you share.
I cherish the nights your softness I quest,
A morning flower of beauty and flair!
Each day we rise, our feelings we bare,
Smiling with joy, our fondness to crest.
To you, my wife, my love, I declare.
While holding hands, we walk without care.
O love, with you, I know I've been blest,
A morning flower of beauty and flair!
Unending life with you is my prayer;
Eternity sighs the words I've confessed.
To you, my wife, my love, I declare,
A morning flower of beauty and flair!
© 2019, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by Takmeomeo from Pixabay
Poetic form: Villanelle
If I could give one thing to her,
What would she want that thing to be?
A diamond sparkling on her hand,
Or roses laid across the sea?
Would she prefer a string of pearls,
A golden necklace, earrings too?
Or maybe homes in Southern France;
A charming cottage with a view.
Perhaps a gown of choicest silk,
A voyage on the open sea,
Or bank accounts where money flows,
Expensive shoes, a spending spree?
These things to her I'd gladly give,
Without a pause, had I the means.
But I'm a simple, humble man
Of little wealth and tattered jeans.
I did find out from my dear wife,
One day of fall under a tree,
That all she wants is my true love
And spend eternity with me.
© 2019, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain
If only I could dial back the years,
Return to when we met and fell in love.
I would erase the times I caused your tears
And brighten all your days like stars above.
If only you could hear my verses sung,
You'd surely know my heart has ached for you.
I rue the stolid words my thoughtless tongue
Had brought to make your happy days turn blue.
If only you could read my mournful heart,
Your own would feel the pain I always hold.
A pain that lingers still and won't depart
Until the day my blood is running cold.
But now, in silver years, all I can do
Is love you even more than when we wed.
To treasure all the moments I'm with you
As I recite the words my pen has bled.
© 2019, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by annca from Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain
Should I be lying on our bed
As darkness waits for my last breath,
Upon your face I wish to shed
My one last glance, then laugh at death.
Should frailty cause my arms to die,
And I'm unable hugs to share,
Please know with every breath I sigh,
My love for you, I will declare.
Should darkness veil my aging eyes
And keep your lovely face from me,
I will replay the smile I prize,
Within my mind, where I can see.
Should words then fail to freely flow
From my old lips to say goodbye,
With my last breath you'll surely know
How deeply you are loved, and why.
© 2019, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by Diego PH from Unsplash
Poetic form: Quatrain
She worries that her softest bloom is gone,
The beauty that was hers in younger years.
She reminisces days of early dawn,
When flawless skin awoke to gleeful cheers.
She frets her steps have lost their sultry dance,
Her slender figure time has cast away.
She dreads her crown to white will soon advance,
So feels it is in vain to hide her gray.
But I don't see the years her mirror shows,
Instead I view a bloom's maturing glow.
Her smile, her lively eyes and button nose,
Are still like early days of long ago.
The mirror only sees her graying years,
But I the graceful bloom beneath the tears.
© 2018, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by Bessi from Pixabay
Poetic form: Sonnet
The poem in video form
A storm descends to mar the day
As he looks out from the café.
It brings to mind forgotten pain,
The day he wept like falling rain.
'Twas long ago in budding years,
He filled a void with pleading tears.
He was naïve, too young to know
The bitter pain that love can sow.
Her amber skin, kissed by the sun,
Was like the softest fabric spun.
Her walk and smile would brighten days
When sadness hung like walls of haze.
Her eyes were twins of burning coal
That lit aflame the heart she stole.
Her pouting lips his breath would take,
Which moved his heart with love to wake.
But like all tales of ages gone,
Of love that's young, like early dawn,
The brighter light can soon expose
Infatuation's gasping throes.
He hears a voice as raindrops fall;
They've joined as one; for her, they call.
Like tears, he shed the day she left,
Like tears he shed the day she left.
© 2018, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by ronymichaud from Pixabay
Poetic form: Couplet
I rise this morn with thoughts of you,
A graceful girl that I once knew.
The shore extends a warm invite
To walk in search of time once bright.
The surf replays melodic tunes
As it caresses sandy dunes.
The sand gives way to stepping feet,
The rising sun with smiles I greet.
The gulls in playful circles fly
With calls that lace the morning sky.
They sing of times when walks we shared,
Of days our hearts with love had paired.
But now, all that remains of you
Are windy whispers I can't view.
Intangible, as you've become,
To gentle whispers, I succumb.
© 2018, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by Angel L Villanueva
Poetic form: Couplet
He sits alone while waves surround his feet
As calls of gulls incite his mind to wake.
The sand gives way with water in retreat,
The waves that fail to wash away his ache.
It has been years since he last saw her face,
But he can still recall her graceful form.
He can't let go of days in her embrace,
For deep within remains a latent storm.
Her images caress his pleading mind,
And then he questions why she let him die.
The answer that he seeks he fails to find;
In endless whispers, he keeps asking, why?
The sleepy sun begins to close its eye,
And then he feels the storm prepares to stir.
With trembling lips, he tries to say goodbye...
But merely has the strength for words to slur.
He writes her name upon the dampened sand
And sees her striking beauty once again.
A wave begins to stretch and spread its hand
And carries her away, but not the pain.
© 2018, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by Pexels from Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain
This night, I wonder with a sigh,
As she lies here, right next to me,
What would I be as years went by
Had she declined with me to be?
Would I be happy? Deeply sad?
Would I feel empty, even lost?
Would I regret the life I had?
Would I forget our paths had crossed?
I frown to think of life alone,
Of years without her form to hold.
These thoughts at night, of such unknown,
Make dreamers dream since time untold.
And yet, it’s silly that I dwell
On thoughts of sadness late at night,
For she has been my lovely belle
Since we first met, so all is right.
© 2018, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by Angel L Villanueva
Poetic form: Quatrain
I recall the years gone by,
Married young — such hopeful eyes;
Days and nights of that July,
Thirty years, plus six, our ties.
Happy days and blissful nights;
Times of ache when we were pained.
Through it all, we kept our sights
On our love, from hate abstained.
Here we stand as time has passed;
Loyal friends, that's what we are.
Looking back into our past,
Treasured times — a grand memoir.
Strongly etched upon my heart,
Words of love for you still burn.
Growing old till we depart,
Holding hands, to dust return.
© 2018, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by satyamkumarpe from Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain - Trochee
I walk the trail, in hopes of reaching you,
As winter sheds her tears of crystal ice.
I rise above snowdrifts, the trail to view,
But find my steps alone do not suffice.
I crawl across ascending mounds of snow
As yearnings for your touch keep urging on.
You grant to me the strength when I am low,
The many times near death my breath has drawn.
But I wake up, the same as other nights,
Alone again, for love has been denied.
Then dawn arrives anew, as searing lights,
While frozen tears the trail proceeds to hide.
My endless dream denies a final climb,
But patiently I wait for love sublime.
© 2018, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by KELLEPICS from Pixabay
Poetic form: Sonnet
The angry storm approaches in the night,
Its curdling howl is heard for miles around.
The trees all flinch in fear of nature's smite,
Then cast their sobbing leaves upon the ground.
No soul dare venture out to face the storm,
For nature's wrath is not so lightly scorned.
The lights go out as winds in anger swarm;
The frightened city now lies unadorned.
Yet here I lie in rest with you, my love,
As candles lift the veil that darkness brings.
Securely sleeping like a peaceful dove,
Your arms around me are your regal wings.
I gaze at you when calm outside returns
And kiss your face as one last candle burns.
© 2018, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by Pexel
Poetic form: Sonnet
Oh, this leaf!
This leaf, to my chest, I cleave!
For it holds within itself
The image of your supple lips;
I enjoy your scented breath
When you share your lips with me.
Oh, this leaf!
How wondrous it looks to me!
Its shape and crimson hues
Awaken thoughts I hold of you.
I relish the luscious softness
When you share your lips with me.
Oh, this leaf!
How can I ever release?
When I'm apart from you,
It reminds me of what can be.
How can I contain this heart
When you share your lips with me?
© 2018, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Photo Credit: Alexander Kobtsev - Best of Russia
Poetic form: Free Verse
Along the banks of River Rhine,
She walks alone tonight.
Her eyes are fixed above the sky
To find a comet's flight.
She'll name it for the one she lost
When Death approached one night,
To carry on his noble name,
Where stars are born in light.
Cologne and Basel, Strasbourg too,
Observe with keen delight,
For from her lips now flows a song
That only angels write.
Her words of love move heavenward
As tears of pain cascade.
She speaks of him with tenderness
And vows his name won't fade.
© 2018, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by LisaChe from Pixabay
Poetic form: Quatrain - Ballad
The early years have departed;
Brief is the course of life.
Yet, time’s passing has not
Dimmed the love in my heart.
For though your outer bloom
Has gradually faded,
Your inner beauty remains.
Loving and affectionate,
Your grace ties my
Heart to your own
And will hold me captive
Until Death from me demands
My unpaid debt.
© 2017, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image by JillWellington from Pixabay
Poetic form: Free Verse
The painting is all he has
To remind him of her grace.
A beauty so rich and deep,
The colors offer but a trace.
He walks toward the frame,
Her image on the wall,
Then stops to view her face
As tears begin to fall.
His fingers touch her lips,
Then pleads for her return.
But death derides his tears,
The tears he can't unlearn.
When at night she owns his dreams,
In soliloquy, his heart despairs,
For her presence on their bed,
The painting cannot share.
© 2017, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image courtesy of paintingvalley.com CC BY-NC 4.0 License
Poetic form: Quatrain
In silence, from a distance,
My eyes are drawn to your face.
I start reciting poems
Of love wrapped softly in lace.
I yearn for a closer look;
Her hands caress you lightly.
Your fragrance she enjoys;
Her eyes she closes slightly.
I adore your stunning glow,
A crimson painting ablaze,
Resplendent in appearance,
As you glory in her praise.
On reaching where you bask,
I pause to relish the view
And offer words of thanks
To her who holds you too.
But when she looks at me,
My heart is stunned anew,
Clearly discerning now,
The rose is her with you.
© 2017, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Image source: Shibumi - Desktop Nexus
Poetic form: Quatrain
Hold my hand,
walk with me;
allow me to show you
the stages of our love
in this wonderful journey...
eros — for your beauty consumes me;
agape — for it is unconditional;
storge — for deep is our affection;
philia — for unbreakable is our friendship.
And so,
as we walk hand in hand,
enduring arduous times,
setbacks and obstacles,
remember,
the stages of our love
will nourish us,
strengthen us,
cement us,
until we reach our destination,
in eternity's embrace.
© 2017, Angel L Villanueva. All rights reserved.
Photo source : photoartinc.com/free-wedding-photos-3/
Poetic form: Free Verse
Some consider love poems dead on arrival and do not give them much consideration. I say written expressions of love for one's mate light up the heart, keeping the memories from when they first fell in love alive.
Undeniably, couples face many challenges in these modern times, but what a marvelous achievement it is when they meet and overcome those challenges while remaining firm in their love for each other.
However, pain and heartache are also experienced when a loved one dies or when a relationship fails. Times of anguish, no doubt. Several of my poems touch on this genuine part of life.
I have composed for my wife many of the poems displayed on this page. The rest, however, are not autobiographical, as they were written when I was inspired by an image, an article I read, or when presented with a prompt as part of a poetry contest.
To read a poem, click on its thumbnail image.
Images used under Creative Commons CC0 license, permission from the copyright owner, or are part of the public domain.