I found this and thought I would share

Love Takes A Little More
© Avi Fleischer

You supply the lips and I'll supply the kiss,
You supply the chance and I'll supply the bliss.
You supply the truth and I'll supply the trust,
You supply the time and I'll supply the lust.

But if it's love you want, it's gonna take a little more,
and when we finally get there, it'll be like waves hitting the shore,
of the oceans of our hearts, the feeling lingers on,
from the touch of evening twilight, 'til the early morning dawn.

You supply the fantasy and I'll supply the act,
You supply the opinion and I'll supply the fact.
You supply the quip and I'll supply the smile,
You supply the road and I'll supply that extra mile.

But if it's love you want, it's gonna take a little more,
and when we finally get there, it'll be like waves hitting the shore,
of the oceans of our hearts, the feeling lingers on,
from the touch of evening twilight, 'til the early morning dawn.

You supply the wings and I'll supply the flight,
You supply the day and I'll supply the night.
You supply the ground below and I'll supply the sky above,
You supply your tender heart and I'll supply my endless love.

Because even though love takes more, I shall not stand and wait,
for love to sweep me off my feet, for I might be too late.
So, I've now become a partner of fate,
in the never-ending waterfall known as love and hate.
celeste is most active forumer
brian123 wrote: celeste is most active forumer


Thank you Brian I try
This is beautiful and powerful as well as seductive. I like it.
“You supply the fantasy and I’ll supply the act,
You supply the opinion and I’ll supply the fact.
You supply the quip and I’ll supply the smile,
You supply the road and I’ll supply that extra mile.”

Quite the poem. This stanza alone encompasses lust, confrontation, admiration, and compromise - between just two individuals: the universal “You” and “I.”

Great add, Celeste.
On a similar theme I would like to share one of my favourite poems written in 1681 by Andrew Marvell. It is basically the 17th century metaphysical equivalent of saying we should seize the moment and live for today!

To His Coy Mistress
Andrew Marvell - 1621-1678

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, Lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk and pass our long love's day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find: I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast;
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart;
For, Lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song: then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapt power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
On a similar note, I will share a favourite of mine

The Flea
BY JOHN DONNE

Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;
Thou know’st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead,
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pampered swells with one blood made of two,
And this, alas, is more than we would do.

Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, nay more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is;
Though parents grudge, and you, w'are met,
And cloistered in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that, self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it sucked from thee?
Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou
Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now;
’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be:
Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me,
Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.
Another good poem by Rupert Brooke on a love theme. Many think of him as a war poet but he was so much more than that!

THERE'S WISDOM IN WOMEN
by Rupert Brooke

"Oh love is fair, and love is rare;" my dear one she said,
"But love goes lightly over." I bowed her foolish head,
And kissed her hair and laughed at her. Such a child was she;
So new to love, so true to love, and she spoke so bitterly.

But there's wisdom in women, of more than they have known,
And thoughts go blowing through them, are wiser than their own,
Or how should my dear one, being ignorant and young,
Have cried on love so bitterly, with so true a tongue ?