Peter Stavropoulos (Best Love Poems)


.I Think of You and Miss You


How could fate have separated us?
I think of you and miss you.

I think of your warm and inviting smile
Of the laughter that now brings tears
And I miss you.

I think of your small body wrapped in my arms
Of the hands that caressed your hair
And I miss you.

I think of evenings in front of a fire
Of hot chicken soup now gone cold
And I miss you.

I think of you bravely waving good bye
Of the way you walked out of my sight
And I miss you.

I think of lessons you have taught me
Of the promises I keep
And I miss you.










By Peter Stavropoulos

Submitted: Monday, September 24, 2007
Edited: Thursday, October 03, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

My book of selected poems 'When I try to write I can't' and my book of Love poems 'Love's Best Songs' (co-written with my wife) are now available as Kindle e-books.

Comments about this poem (.I Think of You and Miss You by Peter Stavropoulos (Best Love Poems) )

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  • Veteran Poet - 4,618 Points Col Muhamad Khalid Khan (11/4/2014 9:23:00 AM)

    I think of evenings in front of a fire
    Of hot chicken soup now gone cold
    And I miss you.
    A beautiful love poem the beauty and elegance of which one cant miss. Well written
    Col Muhammad Khalid Khan (Report) Reply

  • Freshman - 1,020 Points Peter Stavropoulos (5/2/2013 4:42:00 PM)

    Thanks eloida,

    About my poem “The Witch Doctor’s Son”.

    My local newspaper was running a Short Story Contest. They wanted short short stories of exactly 50 words (not including the title) . I decided to enter the contest and sat down to write my 50 word short short story. After about 45 minutes I had completed a short short story of which I wasn’t happy with but which satisfied the 50 word criteria. I was tired and walking out of the door of my room when I had the feeling I had to write something. I sat down and wrote “The Undertaker’s Widow”. It came out fast and in one draft and at exactly 50 words. That was much better than my first attempt, and I thought I was completely happy with it. As I was halfway out the door again another feeling that I had to write something came to me. No words, just the feeling. I sat down and wrote “The Witch Doctor’s Son”. It came out fast and in one draft, and, as with “The Undertaker’s Widow”, without any changes and at exactly 50 words. “The Undertaker’s Widow” is about my mother, and “The Witch Doctor’s Son” is about my father and myself. I was a young man and my father was very ill and near the end of his life when these prose poems were written.

    “All my writing is a completion of the work my father started”. (Report) Reply

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