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When your gaze found mine #lovepoem #surrealpoem #poetrydaily

When your gaze found mine, the whole world swayed, As if the earth had missed a hidden beat; The sunlight suddenly grew unafraid, Then melted like warm gold around my feet. I tried to look away, but something stayed, A trembling little universe in you; My eyes became two doors I could not close, And every secret seemed to wander through. I felt my cheeks turn roses in the rain, A sudden fire underneath my skin; The stars began to whisper my sweet shame, While little suns kept blooming from within. Your eyes were not just eyes, they were a place, A strange blue room where gravity was gone; I wandered through the silence of your gaze And somehow lost the person I was on. My heartbeat stumbled, then forgot its name, It ran barefoot through corridors of light; I blushed as though the moon had called me beautiful, Then hid my face from heaven's watching sight. The trees leaned closer, jealous of the view, The flowers opened wider just to see; Even the wind became unusually shy, As thoug...
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The man and the Rose #lovepoem #poetry

At dawn the bees rise, gold-dusted and brave,
Wings humming promises the morning gave.
They cross wide fields with tireless devotion,
Reading the air like a sacred motion.

They do not pause for the loudest bloom,
Nor the flower that flaunts its heavy perfume.
They search with care, with patient sight,
For nectar that’s true, for sweetness that’s right.

From petal to petal they gently roam,
Borrowing gold to carry it home.
Through storms, through heat, through uncertain skies,
Their faith is honey, their hope never dies.

So too stands a man in a garden wide,
Where countless flowers bloom with pride.
Each one calling, “Choose me, see
I am beauty, I am destiny.”

Some shine bright but with shallow roots,
Some wear colors but hide their truths.
He learns, like bees, to look within,
Beyond soft petals, beyond the skin.

Then he sees her quiet, rare,
A rose that blooms with mindful care.
Not loud in scent, not proud in show,
But deep in strength, in steady glow.

Her thorns speak wisdom, her red speaks grace,
Time has etched truth upon her face.
She stands unmoved by fleeting eyes,
Rooted in earth, beneath vast skies.

The man chooses as the bees have taught:
With patience earned and lessons bought.
Not every flower is meant to be,
But the rose is love’s eternity.

And like the bees that return with gold,
He carries a treasure more precious to hold
A love well chosen, pure and true,
A rose unique, forever new. 🌹🐝


© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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