Love Poems From Books Novels & Stories

They wandered through the aisles, running their fingers along spines that held countless worlds within their pages. Emily's eyes sparkled with excitement as she plucked a weathered book from the shelf. "Liam, look at this," she exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder. "It's a collection of love letters from different eras. Each page holds the raw emotions of someone's heart."

To those finding true love: true love,is always understanding,it patient,it stays,it shares your pains and joy And in the last line of the book, she wrote: Love, the kind that stays, isn’t loud. It’s steady. It lingers. Like a whisper at the edge of sleep. Like hope. Like home. it every thing that will ever complete you THE END Dear Readers, please drop Your comment for the review of this book.... and get ready for my next book.. thank you!!!

He couldn’t. The walls felt too close. Too quiet. Too easy for his thoughts to fill. So he left. Walked without direction. Past the familiar parts of campus. Past the places that meant something. Until nothing around him felt connected to the life he was trying to hold onto. That was when it started. Not a message. Not a call. A memory. Sharp. Clear. Uninvited. — It had been raining. Not lightly. Heavy. The kind of rain that blurred everything into motion and shadow.

Lily’s lips bruised with her teeth biting them to not scream, he feels forbidden, yet she never felt so alive, ever, not before this night. Wrapped in each other’s arms, their legs tangled, her head in contact with his chest, his hand caressing her hair, the other one on her waist pulling her closer, he feel the dawn, the light spreading everywhere the sun rising, he kissed her forehead. Wearing his clothes, he took out a piece of paper from the book, but his movements halted, seeing the page filled with ink, his heart skipped a beat reading the poem, Like the moon you are flawed, then why you are the only source of light in the darkness.

He pulled a small rectangular pack- age out of his jacket pocket and placed it in my lap. "Oh... I have a present?" I lifted the package and unwrapped the soft blue tissue. It was a book. A very old and very special book. My heart started thump- ing hard as I realized precisely what Ethan had given me. "Lamia, Isabella, The Eve of St. Agnes, and Other Poems by John Keats?" I choked out in complete shock.

This one seemed alive, humming with a history she didn’t understand. She pulled a book at random a thick tome of Spanish poetry and sank into an armchair near the fire. For a few minutes she let herself disappear into the verses, the rolling syllables laced with both sorrow and fire. Words of longing, of forbidden love. Her chest tightened. Whoever had chosen this collection had known the ache of silence, the agony of distance. “You’ve chosen Lorca.”

Love; the word felt as though it was too easily thrown from mouth to mouth, but his mind couldn't help but wander to the antiquated words of Edmund Spenser. "My Love is like to ice, and I to fire: How comes it then that this her cold so great-Is not dissolved through my so hot desire, But stronger grows the more I her entreat? Or how comes it that my exceeding heat is not allayed by her heart-frozen cold, But that I burn much more in boiling sweat, and feel my flames augmented manifold? What more miraculous thing may be told; That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice. And ice, which is congeal’d with senseless cold, should kindle fire by wonderful device?"

There was a way, I just needed to find it and Jasper could help me, I could feel it. I picked out a book that was filled with poems and sat back down on the chair. I started reading each page, the words were beautiful. ’As the rain pours down I feel your love. As the wind blows I hear your voice. As the birds sing I can see your eyes. For your memory is something that never died’ ’A rose with thorns is my tale of love. The beauty as majestic as the petals, the feeling as lovely as the color, the heartbreak as painful as the stabs’

Damn… I couldn’t help but feel a little excited and nervous all in one go but ohh goodness help me! “Um Yea sure, you can hang for a bit if you want." I opened the door wider and moved for him to come in, then shut it and locked it behind us. I sat back on my bed and grabbed my book as he sat beside me "what you reading then?" "well… it’s actually a book full of romantic love letters and poetry that lovers would send to each other during the war but the way they speak to each other, the love and feelings that are put into each letter, It’s amazing, like no matter how far away they are or how long they have to stay away... it’s like they know that no matter what, their love will bring them b

Alfred limped to the table where a fresh mug of coffee awaited him. As he eased himself onto the dining chair, he noticed Heloise’s satin robe was tied in such a haphazard manner that a rosy nipple was exposed. She either didn’t notice or she didn’t care as she slid the coffee mug toward her lover without lifting her eyes from the newspaper she was reading.