Love Poems

These illustrations were made for a competition.

It was my first illustration competition entered and first time to illustrate poems. It was a great challenge for myself.

The Good Morrow

I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I

Did, till we loved; were we not weaned till then,

But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?

Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den?

’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be.

If ever any beauty I did see,

Which I desired, and got,’twas but a dream of thee.


And now good morrow to our waking souls,

Which watch not one another out of fear;

For love, all love of other sights controls,

And makes one little room, an everywhere.

Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,

Let maps to others, worlds on worlds have shown,

Let us possess our world; each hath one, and is one.


My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,

And true plain hearts do in the faces rest;

Where can we find two better hemispheres,

Without sharp North, without declining West?

Whatever dies, was not mixed equally;

If our two loves be one; or thou and I

Love so alike that none do slacken, none can die.



Poem by John Donne

Wild Nights!

Wild Nights – Wild Nights!

Were I with thee

Wild Nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile – the Winds –

To a Heart in port –

Done with the Compass –

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden –

Ah, the Sea!

Might I but moor – Tonight –

In thee!


Poem by Emily Dickinson

The Trick

In a wasted time, it’s only when I sleep

that all my senses come awake. In the wake

of you, let day not break. Let me keep

the scent, the weight, the bright of you, take

the countless hours and count them all night through 

till that time comes when you come to the door

of dreams, carrying oranges that cast a glow

up into your face. Greedy for more

than the gift of seeing you, I lean in to taste

the colour, kiss it off your offered mouth.

For this, for this, I fall asleep in haste,

willing to fall for the trick that tells the truth

that even your shade makes darkest absence bright, 

that shadows live wherever there is light.


Poem by Imtiaz Dharker