Poetry Lover Novels & Stories

my poem reads thus. ....... A LOVE POEM BY FETTY... I use to think love was an illusion and an overrated feeling of hopelessness I had this notion of how much of a hyped feeling this abstract thing was Infact, I downgraded this magical feeling and made it a foot mat Until I fell.... Falling completely in love with you made me realize every possible assumption of love is a reality And this magical feeling is taking me round the world in an instant You are the abstract fabric that kneads every bit of my heart and make melodious symphonies out of my heartbeat

NANA AISHA TALIB ALIERO. Two Years Later. . . She smiled looking at what she just drafted in the pile of poems she has written. She is insane about happy endings, mad about love stories, magnet for clichés and strong love for sadness. She doesn't have any problem writing poems just for her own happiness and daydreams. Mostly, Islamic poems about her religion. She also sites a lot about sad ones like she was once heartbroken even though she wasn't. She has been alone all her life and she likes it.

With her, I could almost pretend I was home, surrounded by people who cared for me. “Ida, dear, what would you say if I read us something not from this country today? There’s a very well-liked writer named Shakespeare in one of the neighbouring countries. What do you say?” She looked at me quizzically. “Here’s one of his works I know you will like: A Lover’s Complaint.”

I wake up from my reverie and open the basket, I have a guess from whom this present is, I find the ar and my doubt turns into certainty. With well written letters, is written: A rose is a rose is a rose is a rose… I could write this a hundred times, just like the poet Gertrude Stein did, but because I’m much more original I prefer to say it with no modesty and repeatedly: I love you I love you I love you I love you… Your Hunter. Ah! Big Guy, what I’ll do with you, eh???!!! Why do you always have to be so complicated, so jealous, so intense… and so hot?!

Yet I feel no connection or attraction to her. The one and only woman i had ever loved was mother. She was my everything, sometimes i can swear i can smell her all around me. Her sweet sugar smell from baking and the smell of the sea salt in her hair. She's been gone for years now but i still feel her everywhere. Not even my love could save her. Father has been silent about my lack of spouse since I accended the throne, I wasn't deillusional enough to think that he wasn't interested in my love life. Like with everything with father he has simply been waiting for the perfect time.

"If it was a piece of paper, I would tear it. If it was a bottle, I would break it, if it was a wall, I would tear it down - But it's my heart" ~Mahmoud Darwish The words sunk so deeply, creating a large gap in my soul. There was just something so devastatingly beautiful about romantic poetry, I loved it to no end. The idea of loving someone to the point that you yearn for them, their very person, every inch of their skin, every habit of theirs, every peculiar trait is picked, loved and immortalized.

Forever bound by Tuberose's art, In the Fragrance of Love, we'll never depart. As I finish reciting the poem, my heart is filled with a profound sense of connection and appreciation for the words that have touched my soul. At this moment, I realize the power of Tuberose's poetry to capture the essence of love and evoke emotions that transcend time and space. With the book held close to my heart, I continue to delve into its pages, immersing myself in the fragrant world of love that Tuberose has created.

Her work at the local bookstore, once a mundane routine, now felt infused with a sense of meaning. She found herself drawn to the poetry section, her fingers tracing the spines of books she had never explored before. She discovered the delicate beauty of Emily Dickinson's words, the raw emotion of Sylvia Plath's verse, and the lyrical prose of Langston Hughes. Each poem, a window into a different soul, resonated with her own experiences, her own struggles and triumphs.

I couldn't possibly refuse him after he said that. At that moment, the voice inside my head mocked me again, saying, "You've got to be honest with yourself. You've probably fallen in love with this robot. And besides, with him being an exact replica of Kenneth, do you really think you're capable of falling in love with someone else? "You have everything now—wealth, a child, and a lover who won't betray you. You were also the one being so proactive last night. If 008 hadn't been mindful of your pregnancy, you wouldn't have been able to wake up this morning.

*The Unexpected Love* In the bustling city of Tokyo, lived a young and ambitious artist named Akira. She was known for her stunning paintings and her passion for her craft. Akira's life was a whirlwind of art exhibitions, classes, and her own studio. One day, while Akira was setting up for an exhibition, she accidentally knocked over a display of sculptures. A handsome stranger rushed to help her, and as their hands touched, Akira felt an unexpected spark. The stranger's name was Taro, a successful businessman with a passion for art. He was immediately drawn to Akira's creativity and enthusiasm.