23 Missing you poems

I miss you like the moon misses the sun both go on and on for ages one after each other without never really meeting!

O happy dames, that may embrace The fruit of your delight, Help to bewail the woeful case And eke the heavy plight Of me, that wonted to rejoice The fortune of my pleasant choice; Good ladies, help to fill my mourning voice. In ship, freight with remembrance Of thoughts and pleasures past, He sails that hath in governance My life while it will last; With scalding sighs, for lack of gale, Furthering his hope, that is his sail, Toward me, the sweet port of his avail. Alas! how oft in dreams I see Those eyes that were my food; Which sometime so delighted me, That yet they do me good; Wherewith I wake with his return, Whose absent flame did make me burn: But when I find the lack, Lord, how I mourn! When other lovers in arms across Rejoice their chief delight. Drowned in tears, to mourn my loss I stand the bitter night In my window, where I may see Before the winds how the clouds flee. Lo! what a mariner love hath made of me! And in green waves when the salt flood Doth rise by rage of wind, A thousand fancies in that mood Assail my restless mind. Alas! now drencheth my sweet foe, That with the spoil of my heart did go, And left me; but, alas! why did he so? And when the seas wax calm again To chase fro me annoy, My doubtful hope doth cause me pain; So dread cuts off my joy. Thus is my wealth mingled with woe, And of each thought a doubt doth grow; “Now he comes! Will he come? Alas, no, no!”

something happened today i almost texted you had my thumb on your name put my phone down made tea instead which is not the same but it's something

’Tis now since I began to die Four months, yet still I gasping live; Wrapp’d up in sorrow do I lie, Hoping, yet doubting a reprieve. Adam from Paradise expell’d Just such a wretched being held. ’Tis not thy love I fear to lose, That will in spite of absence hold; But ’tis the benefit and use Is lost, as in imprison’d gold: Which though the sum be ne’er so great, Enriches nothing but conceit. What angry star then governs me That I must feel a double smart, Prisoner to fate as well as thee; Kept from thy face, link’d to thy heart? Because my love all love excels, Must my grief have no parallels? Sapless and dead as Winter here I now remain, and all I see Copies of my wild state appear, But I am their epitome. Love me no more, for I am grown Too dead and dull for thee to own.

How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December's bareness everywhere! And yet this time remov'd was summer's time, The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime, Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease: Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit; For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And thou away, the very birds are mute; Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.

Long have I long’d to see my love againe, Still have I wisht, but never could obtaine it; Rather than all the world (if I might gaine it) Would I desire my love’s sweet precious gaine. Yet in my soule I see him everie day, See him, and see his still sterne countenaunce, But (ah) what is of long continuance, Where majestie and beautie beares the sway? Sometimes, when I imagine that I see him, (As love is full of foolish fantasies) Weening to kisse his lips, as my love’s fees, I feele but aire: nothing but aire to bee him. Thus with Ixion, kisse I clouds in vaine: Thus with Ixion, feele I endles paine.

Somewhere or other there must surely be The face not seen, the voice not heard, The heart that not yet—never yet—ah me! Made answer to my word. Somewhere or other, may be near or far; Past land and sea, clean out of sight; Beyond the wandering moon, beyond the star That tracks her night by night. Somewhere or other, may be far or near; With just a wall, a hedge, between; With just the last leaves of the dying year Fallen on a turf grown green.

Seems lak to me de stars don't shine so bright, Seems lak to me de sun done loss his light, Seems lak to me der's nothin' goin' right, Sence you went away. Seems lak to me de sky ain't half so blue, Seems lak to me dat eve'ything wants you, Seems lak to me I don't know what to do, Sence you went away. Seems lak to me dat eve'ything is wrong, Seems lak to me de day's jes twice ez long, Seems lak to me de bird's forgot his song, Sence you went away. Seems lak to me I jes can't he’p but sigh, Seems lak to me ma th’oat keeps gittin’ dry, Seems lak to me a tear stays in ma eye, Sence you went away.

Your absence has gone through me Like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.

After Li Po While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead I played about the front gate, pulling flowers. You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse, You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums. And we went on living in the village of Chōkan: Two small people, without dislike or suspicion. At fourteen I married My Lord you. I never laughed, being bashful. Lowering my head, I looked at the wall. Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back. At fifteen I stopped scowling, I desired my dust to be mingled with yours Forever and forever, and forever. Why should I climb the look out? At sixteen you departed You went into far Ku-tō-en, by the river of swirling eddies, And you have been gone five months. The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead. You dragged your feet when you went out. By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses, Too deep to clear them away! The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind. The paired butterflies are already yellow with August Over the grass in the West garden; They hurt me. I grow older. If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang, Please let me know beforehand, And I will come out to meet you As far as Chō-fū-Sa.