Have you ever felt your heart race at the mere thought of someone, longing to express your feelings but unsure how?
Poetry has a magical way of capturing those intense emotions, giving voice to the words you struggle to say.
Whether you’re daydreaming about your crush or consumed by infatuation, these 10 heartfelt poems will help you convey your admiration with elegance and passion.
Let’s get straight to it!
My favorite poem to your crush for infatuated women
#1 “A Maiden” by Sara Teasdale
Oh if I were the velvet rose
Upon the red rose vine,
I’d climb to touch his window
And make his casement fine.
And if I were the little bird
That twitters on the tree,
All day I’d sing my love for him
Till he should harken me.
But since I am a maiden
I go with downcast eyes,
And he will never hear the songs
That he has turned to sighs.
And since I am a maiden
My love will never know
That I could kiss him with a mouth
More red than roses blow.
This poem resonates deeply with women who feel the weight of quiet longing.
Through vivid imagery, it expresses the yearning to reveal love while bound by the constraints of shyness or societal expectations.
Each line mirrors the secret desires many of us have felt—wishing to sing, to touch, to be seen by the one who unknowingly holds our heart.
It’s a tender reminder that even unspoken love carries profound beauty.
9 more poems to your crush for infatuated women
#2 “The Lover” by Dora Sigerson Shorter
I go through wet spring woods alone,
Through sweet green woods with heart of stone,
My weary foot upon the grass
Falls heavy as I pass.
The cuckoo from the distance cries,
The lark a pilgrim in the skies;
But all the pleasant spring is drear.
I want you, dear!
I pass the summer meadows by,
The autumn poppies bloom and die;
I speak alone so bitterly
For no voice answers me.
‘O lovers parting by the gate,
O robin singing to your mate,
Plead you well, for she will hear
‘I love you, dear!’
I crouch alone, unsatisfied,
Mourning by winter’s fireside.
O Fate, what evil wind you blow.
Must this be so?
No southern breezes come to bless,
So conscious of their emptiness
My lonely arms I spread in woe,
I want you so.
#3 “The Lover” by Paul Tanaquil
You do not know the wonder I will pour on your name—
It will burst like thunder with all heaven for a frame!
I will raise it as a flame that the wind blows under,
I will cast myself asunder—to my shame, to my blame!
I will make a fame, a wonder of your name.
#4 “Words About Love” by Mark Turbyfill
I cannot tell you what it is waits beyond love;
Nor what it means, the still hour after.
I can think only of a wide field of poppies afire
On driven stems, dashed in the gale.
I cannot touch you now.
I lie beside you chill. My heart has waned cold.
A high white mountain has breathed upon my heart.
Let us gather out of our thoughts a poppy cloak
To draw about this strangeness.
I cannot tell you what it is waits beyond love;
Nor what it means, the still hour after.
#5 “Lovers” by Horace Holley
Whate’er our joy compelled, men’s praise and blame fall hollow,
A voice upon the winds that drown it as they blow:
So fair a vision led, our thought was all to follow;
So strong a passion urged, our will was all to go.
#6 “Love’s Fancy” by John Dryden
After the pangs of a desperate Lover,
When a day and night I have sighed all in vain,
Ah what a pleasure it is to discover,
In her eyes pity who causes my pain!
When with unkindness our Love at a stand is,
And both have punish’d our selves with the pain,
Ah what a pleasure the touch of her hand is!
Ah what a pleasure to touch it again!
When the denial comes fainter and fainter,
And her eyes gives what her tongue does deny,
Ah what a trembling I feel when I venture,
Ah what a trembling does usher my Joy!
When, with a Sigh, she accords me the blessing
And her eyes twinkle ’twixt pleasure and pain,
Ah, what a Joy ’tis beyond all expressing!
Ah, what a Joy to hear, Shall we again!
#7 “Sonnet: Written On A Blank Page In Shakespeare’s Poems, Facing ‘A Lover’s Complaint’” by John Keats
Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like Nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors
No-yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever-or else swoon to death.
#8 “Song” by Christina Georgina Rossetti
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.
#9 “The Look” by Sara Teasdale
Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.
Strephon’s kiss was lost in jest,
Robin’s lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin’s eyes
Haunts me night and day.
#10 “Renouncement” by Alice Christiana Thompson Meynell
I must not think of thee; and, tired yet strong,
I shun the thought that lurks in all delight–
The thought of thee–and in the blue Heaven’s height,
And in the sweetest passage of a song.
Oh, just beyond the fairest thoughts that throng
This breast, the thought of thee waits, hidden yet bright;
But it must never, never come in sight;
I must stop short of thee the whole day long.
But when sleep comes to close each difficult day,
When night gives pause to the long watch I keep,
And all my bonds I needs must loose apart,
Must doff my will as raiment laid away,–
With the first dream that comes with the first sleep
I run, I run, I am gathered to thy heart.