Funny Love Poems - Have you heard of the expression “a laugh a day may keep the doctor away”? Although there is still unclear about the laugher’s healing power, but researchers have yet to find any harmful side effects. According to Rollo May, a humanistic psychologist, “humor is the healthy way of feeling a "distance" between one's self and the problem, a way of standing off and looking at one's problem with perspective.”

So take time to chuckle each day may probably lead us to a healthy lifestyle! What we can offer you below are a collection of funny love poetry to compliment to your laugher. We know that funny love poems are no longer funny if you read it a few times, therefore we tried to replace new funny love poems as often as we can.

"I don't understand why Cupid was chosen to represent
Valentine's Day. When I think about romance, the last thing
on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a
weapon."

Love Letters Writing

Letters of Love
Of all letters, the love-letter should be the most carefully prepared. Among the written missives, they are the most thoroughly read and re-read, the longest preserved, and the most likely to be regretted in after life. .... More in love letters writing

Funny Love Poems for the lovers

Stella Birthday

Stella this day is thirty-four,
(We shan't dispute a year or more:)
However, Stella, be not troubled,
Although thy size and years are doubled,
Since first I saw thee at sixteen,
The brightest virgin on the green;
So little is thy form declin'd;
Made up so largely in thy mind.

Oh, would it please the gods to split
Thy beauty, size, and years, and wit;
No age could furnish out a pair
Of nymphs so graceful, wise, and fair;
With half the lustre of your eyes,
With half your wit, your years, and size.
And then, before it grew too late,
How should I beg of gentle Fate,
(That either nymph might have her swain,)
To split my worship too in twain

Jonathan Swift ( 1667 - 1745 )

A Problem

My darling has a merry eye,
And voice like silver bells:
How shall I win her, prithee, say,---
By what magic spells?

If I frown, she shakes her head;
If I weep, she smiles:
Time would fail me to recount
All her wilful wiles.

She flouts me so,---she stings me so,---
Yet will not let me stir,---
In vain I try to pass her by,
My little chestnut bur.

When I yield to every whim,
She straight begins to pout.
Teach me how to read my love,
How to find her out!

For flowers she gives me thistle-blooms,---
Her turtle-doves are crows,---
I am the groaning weather-vane,
And she the wind that blows.

My little love! My teasing love!
Was woman made for man,---
A rose that blossomed from his side?
Believe it---those who can.

Ellen Louise Chandler Moulton (1835-1908)

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