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I'd Burn My Portrait in Your Mind - and Other Poems of Love and Desire

John has been writing poetry since his school days. He was awarded the "Best Poet 2014 and 2021" Hubby Awards.

id-burn-my-portrait-in-your-mind

I'd Burn My Portrait in Your Mind

Faces come and faces go

Fading in and out.

Memories of lovers too,

But of you I have no doubt.


Your image etched into my mind,

So clear I can't deny.

Though we parted years ago

The memories make me sigh.


Our random meeting was unplanned,

Your beauty knocked me flat.

You the predator, me prey,

Me mouse, and you the cat.

id-burn-my-portrait-in-your-mind


Your eyes bored right into my soul,

No secrets could I hide.

You ripped them right out of my heart,

It was a crazy ride.


Our time together short but sweet,

The passion real and shared.

It left impressions, undenied,

My feelings were not spared.


If I could have that time again,

Your lust I'd try to bind.

I'd brand you with my hot desire,

And burn my portrait in your mind.


id-burn-my-portrait-in-your-mind
id-burn-my-portrait-in-your-mind

Love's Erotic Tide

Did I tell you that I love you?

Should I show how much I do?

Make people stop and stare at us

Whenever I'm with you.


Did I say I find you gorgeous?

Each word I say is true.

Your beauty could stop any war,

And I'd live in peace with you.


Did you know that I desire you?

I really hope you knew.

Cupid's arrows rain from Heaven

Every time I gaze at you.


But do you love me in return?

Burn for me deep inside?

Then, join me as we ride the waves

Of love's erotic tide.


id-burn-my-portrait-in-your-mind
id-burn-my-portrait-in-your-mind

If I Were Not a Poet

If I were not a poet

I'd never write of love.

My feelings would stay hidden,

The world would never know.


If I were not a poet

I'd not confess my love.

You'd never read a verse by me,

So I'd never break your heart.


If I were not a poet

I'd be a lonely man.

My feelings would stay trapped inside,

For I'd fear to set them free.


If I were not a poet

I would not have a muse

Who stabs a pen deep in my heart,

And bleeds words from my soul.

© 2017 John Hansen

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