Now that the holiday is past, we can start to reflect! Valentine’s Day means a lot of things to a lot of people. For some, it’s a special day where we get to show others how much we care. For others, it’s a special day to wallow in self-despair, doubt, and wonder if we’ll ever really find someone to love and who loves us back.
For many, the idea of Valentine’s Day is a joke all by itself — because why shouldn’t you share how much you love someone routinely, every day, all year long instead of just using one day as sort of an exclamation point on love?
No matter your personal beliefs, you can write a poem. And thankfully, others have already done the work for us. Here are a couple of our favorites.
Lord Byron wrote “She Walks in Beauty.” It’s a perfect way for a man to envision loving and cherishing a woman (or vice versa, if you change pronouns). Here it is:
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
Another writer named John Clare describes his feelings of “First Love,” which we mostly likely all remember. Here’s a short excerpt:
I ne’er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
My face turned pale as deadly pale,
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked, what could I ail?
My life and all seemed turned to clay.
And then my blood rushed to my face
And took my eyesight quite away,
The trees and bushes round the place
Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing,