Fear and Loathing in Love Poems

So, I'll admit it; I hate love poems.  I find them to usually be forced and painful to read, yet, there are some that I can appreciate for the beauty of their verse.  Take Mrs. Barrett Browning's How Do I Love Thee as a precious example of the expression of love through poetry.  If you haven't read it, please do so by clicking on the title above.

I personally find it quite difficult to embrace my inner romantic in order to write a love poem that can actually capture the emotion, without causing a little bit of my lunch to rise back up into my throat.  Don't get me wrong, I love my husband dearly, but I find that love is a much more multi-dimensional emotion than even Mrs. Browning can express, and I think she is probably a much better poet than I am.  Love is all the warm fuzzy feelings we get, but it is also the daily ups and downs.  It is the fights over who was supposed to start the load of laundry, and the shared moments of quiet understanding.  It is this chaotic tranquility that defines love, and the cynic in me finds most love poems far too flowery to portray this emotion accurately.

I am human though, and can be as hypocritical as the next person, so of course, I do have a favorite love poem.  As in most things, I think the Bard says it best.

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress when she walks treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.