Poem #4. This poem is in free verse. I was trying to focus on more description, emotion and stronger lines. I also was attempting to follow some of T. S. Eliot’s advice:

“Immature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different.”

So, I stole a line each from three other poems and re-worked them.  Hopefully, they are better or at least different.

This topic, saving your heart and emotions for your future spouse is very important for me.  We often don’t realize that it is not only our physical virginity that can be lost, we can lose our hearts and emotional love as well. I have tried to save myself, mind, emotions, and body, and want to encourage both those who have made this decision and those who learned this hard lesson too late. May this poem bless you all.


It’s the time of the season

where love runs high.

Love  —

giving someone a part of ourselves

that we can never take back

and it’s not just ‘the firsts’ —

first smile, first kiss, first…

no, love is virginity

lost —

of minds, emotions, the heart.

So don’t awaken love

before its time.



Heart is bound to soul,

stitched by invisible threads —

every minute, moment, month

spent in innocent girlhood dreaming,

fantasizing, about him,

is another thread broken,

until your love is no longer yours

to give.

It belongs to another.

Guard your heart and don’t stir

up love.



When all around you are enjoying love’s

tantalizing taste and filling

every minute with sixty seconds worth

of daydream,

of ‘crush’…

You’ll be tempted

to count life by tablespoons —

of smiles, second looks, his wanting

you (or not).

You’ll pray and wish

for them to notice you, like

you, as many as possible,


you must say no —

realize that fulfilling

your vanity meant crushing

their souls.

In a haze of pain, stare

at this unraveling heart…

retreat to a convent of prayer,

solitude, endless repair,

and wish you could give

him body and mind,

if you had only let

sleeping love lie.


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© When Almonds Blossom, 2018