Poetry Is For Wooing Women

Sometimes I think about wooing you. Sometimes I think about wowing you. Sometimes I think too much.

“We were together. I forget the rest.”
― Walt Whitman

“And your very flesh shall be a great poem.”
― Walt Whitman

“Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you/ That you may be my poem/ I whisper with my lips close to your ear/ I have loved many women and men, but I love none better than you.”
― Walt Whitman

Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
― Emily Dickinson

Behind Me — dips Eternity –
Before Me — Immortality –
Myself — the Term between –
Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,
Dissolving into Dawn away,
Before the West begin
― Emily Dickinson

 “Hear my soul speak. Of the very instant that I saw you, Did my heart fly at your service”
The Tempest – Act 3, Scene 1

“The course of true love never did run smooth”
A Midsummer Night’s Dream – Act 1, Scene 2

Shakespeare

More could be said and more could be shared but sometimes less is more. This serves for now and maybe for longer.