Examples Of Narrative Poems - Page 3

Our Love Story
- By Brenda Greenwalt
- Published by Family Friend Poems December 2013 with permission of the Author.
I wrote this poem for my husband for our 30th wedding anniversary. The night we met I was out with friends and was not told that I was actually there for a blind date. It was love at first sight for both of us. We married after knowing each only for only 4 months. We have always had a very special and close relationship throughout all these years.

How I Met My Husband

in Love Poems about Marriage

You entered the room and my heart skipped a beat
I knew in an instant we were destined to meet.
As you looked up from the floor and your eyes locked on mine
A warm subtle chill crept up and down my spine.

You entered the room and my heart skipped a beat
I knew in an instant we were destined to meet.
As you looked up from the floor and your eyes locked on mine
A warm subtle chill crept up and down my spine.

Another blind date, I was not in the mood
But given no choice, I waited subdued
What a surprise though when you opened the door
So sweetly amazed, I almost fell to the floor

You walked toward my table, and the closer you came
The warmer my skin, the warmer the flame
You offered your hand as you asked me to dance
And so was the beginning of our sweet romance

That was the day that our journey began
As so it was foretold and so was our plan
As two lives spent alone then became one
And a love like no other could never be undone.

You've held my heart in your hands ever since then
As you proved your love to me again and again
Four months later we were husband and wife
And I have always thanked God that you entered my life
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An Irish Airman Foresees His Death
- By William Butler Yeats
Famous Poem

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) was an Irish poet. This poem was written in 1918, near the end of World War I, and published the following year. In it, the speaker is coming to terms with the reality that he could die in the war. The speaker shares that the war will not make life better or worse. William Butler Yeats was highly involved in Ireland's politics, but the speaker of this poem did not fight in the war for political reasons. Instead, it was an “impulse of delight.” This poem does not have any stanza breaks, but it does follow the ABAB rhyme scheme.

in Famous Sad Poems

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
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The Old Fella Out At Buck Creek
- By Gordon B. Melton
- Published by Family Friend Poems April 2008 with permission of the Author.
I am a 37-year-old volunteer firefighter, father of 4, and husband to a great wife. The gentleman I am writing about is an 89-year-old man who was in WWII and is still going strong. The poem came from my heart and is a great tribute to a very fine man. Dedicated to Clinton Woodley

in Creative Poems

There is an old fella out at Buck Creek
He's a little hard of hearing, so be loud when you speak
He's lived many years and has seen many things
He's as good as an angel but without the wings

There is an old fella out at Buck Creek
He's a little hard of hearing, so be loud when you speak
He's lived many years and has seen many things
He's as good as an angel but without the wings
Sit with him a while and many stories you will hear
Stories of the war, the drought, and to him things that are dear
His body looks feeble and a little weak
But watch him work and you will think he is at his peak
He goes to the pasture and gives his cattle some feed
Then he gets on his tractor and plows and plants some seed
When he is done, he looks around with a smile
Then he thanks God for letting him be around a while
He walks in his home, which he was born in
With never a frown, but only a grin
I visit with him as often as I can
For he is a very interesting man
When I talk to him, knowledge is what I seek
Because that's one heck of a fella out at Buck Creek
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Her Wedding Day
- By Jennafer Nolan
- Published by Family Friend Poems May 2015 with permission of the Author.
I wrote this poem when I was a junior in high school...it just mainly tells of a wedding. I'm still waiting for this day!

Walking Down The Aisle

in Wedding Poems

Gloriously she walks down the aisle,
And already she can see his gorgeous smile.
That smile that is so soft and sweet,
That smile that makes her knees go weak.

Gloriously she walks down the aisle,
And already she can see his gorgeous smile.
That smile that is so soft and sweet,
That smile that makes her knees go weak.

Halfway down the aisle now,
And she begins to wonder how.
How did she ever fall for the likes of him?
She feels as if she cannot swim.
Struggling to keep afloat in this sea of desire,
About to marry the man who sets her heart afire.

She's at the altar now, ready to be given away,
Always she's waited for this day.
Beside her King she now stands,
As they hold one another's hands.
Repeating the words she has waited forever to hear,
Suddenly she begins to fill with fear.
But looking into her man's eyes so bright
She knows everything will be all right.

As he lifts her veil and kisses her lips,
She feels electricity pulsating to her fingertips.
And as the preacher introduces her with her new name,
She knows nothing will ever be the same.
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A Precious Christmas Memory
- By Patricia A Fleming
- Published by Family Friend Poems December 2018 with permission of the Author.
I worte this poem about a tradition that my Dad and I had of putting up the Christmas lights together.

Christmas Tradition With My Dad

in Christmas Poems

In the damp, dusty cellar, surrounded by boxes,
Our excitement just grows without measure.
Searching and sorting with loud shouts of glee,
As we uncovered the grand Christmas treasure.

In the damp, dusty cellar, surrounded by boxes,
Our excitement just grows without measure.
Searching and sorting with loud shouts of glee,
As we uncovered the grand Christmas treasure.

Christmas lights in a ball, but Dad's not deterred,
As with a purpose, he heads out the door.
And I spy from the window, for the time has now come,
For Dad to adorn our front porch.

The weather is frigid, his breath floats in the air,
And the sky is the deepest of gray.
The spirit of Christmas can be felt everywhere,
With the promise of snow on the way.

So I watch as my Dad makes his plan of attack,
While I sit comfy, cozy inside.
But I knew in my heart where I needed to be,
Out there shivering, but right by his side.

So I bundle up tight and I head out the door,
Nothing can stand in my way.
And I knew by his smile and his pat on my back
That he truly was glad that I came.

Now perfectionist Dad always knew what to do,
And for him every light had its place.
So together we stood, completing our task,
Precious memories these moments would make.

Under an ominous sky large snowflakes appeared,
And it seemed that the time had just flown.
But we both were determined to finish the job,
Though tired and chilled to the bone.

As the last light was placed, complete darkness prevailed,
We had accomplished our goal just in time.
The smell of Mom's cooking floated by in the air,
And the feeling of success was sublime.

Now into the house, I run with such joy,
To summon all family to come.
And we stand on the street, as Dad plugs in the lights,
Illuminating our world one by one.

For certain it's Christmas and my heart feels so full,
With the beauty of color and shimmer.
But being with Dad sharing time in the cold
Is forever what I will remember!
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"The Fire" In Haiku
- By Andrew Mancinelli
- Published by Family Friend Poems February 2013 with permission of the Author.
At age four, my house burned down at about 4 in the morning. I was inspired by a quote I found online to write about this. I absolutely love the style of Haiku, so I wrote one.... This poem is completely representative of my experience at such a young age, hence some lower-class vocab, such as "bed-head" and "annoying and loud" while most of the poem is written in a sophisticated manner, representing the age gap of then and now, both while attempting to create a visualization of the setting.

in Haiku

I was in fire,
The room was dark and somber.
I sleep peacefully.

I was in fire,
The room was dark and somber.
I sleep peacefully.

That alarm then rang,
The sound annoying and loud,
But it saved my life.

I had woken up
Scared, confused, and sad alike.
I knew what happened.

My shelter burning;
My bastion fiercely falling,
I, at just age four.

I'll never forget
The face of mother possessed;
The look of pure fear.

Her light pajamas.
Her dark and rustled "bed-head."
She soon yanked me up.

Along with my rest,
My sister, brother, and dad
Ran out of the blaze.

My pets, left behind,
Found the inevitable.
They live now above.

Out we stand, post-haste;
The cold and wet post-storm land.
We stand, soles chilling.

Approach the neighbor,
Seemingly calm and relaxed
Amid inferno.

Asked our well-being.
We had no reply to give.
She left with a sulk.

All possessions lost,
We drove far away, love lost
To live for years more.
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The Neighbour's Dog
- By Pamela J. Langdon
- Published by Family Friend Poems January 2019 with permission of the Author.
Based on a true event. A neighbours barking dog led Bazza to howl and bark in the middle of the road with unexpected consequences.

Barking Dogs And Their Consequences

in Humorous Poems

Our street was once a peaceful place
Kids played and you could jog
But our tranquil life was shattered
When the neighbour got a dog.

Our street was once a peaceful place
Kids played and you could jog
But our tranquil life was shattered
When the neighbour got a dog.

The thing would howl all through the day
And even after dark
And just as you tried to go to sleep...
The mongrel thing would bark.

It soiled all the lawns, but his
It chased the Postie's bike
And anyone who whined at all
Was told to "Take a hike!"

Old Bazza asked the owner straight
To silence the ugly brute
But the neighbour said
"My dog don't bark!"
"And I think he's rather cute."

The neighbourhood was up in arms
So of his own volition
Old Bazza went from door to door
And took up a petition.

The Council gravely listened
Then notified the Pound
Who gave the bloke a warning
But didn't take the hound.

One night Bazza came home late
(He'd had a lot to drink)
And when the thing began to howl
It pushed him to the brink.

He parked the car down near the curb
Then with bonnet lifted wide
He blasted on the air horns
Until the battery died.

Not satisfied his point was made
Into the street he strode
Then barked and howled for all to hear
In the middle of the road.

"Woof Woof, Bloody Woof Woof!"
He yelled it out with force
Until all the neighbours were awake
And he was nearly hoarse.

But his goings-on were tempered
By a team of Police in black
Who suddenly appeared en masse
And cut short his attack.

They tackled him and put him down
His shorts and shirt were torn
His face was in the wood chip
And his hair wore bits of lawn.

Now Bazza is a legend
And he takes great pains to tell
How the mutt next door could howl and bark
And give the neighbours hell

He could foul the grass and bite the kids
And never get molested
But when Bazza tried to do the same
He promptly got arrested.
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Song About Old Troll
- By J. R. R. Tolkien
Famous Poem

J. R. R. Tolkien is famous for his fantasy novels The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. This poem was sung by Sam Gamgee in The Lord of the Rings. Audio clips can be found of J. R. R. Tolkien singing this song himself.

in Famous Narrative Poems

Troll sat alone on his seat of stone,
And munched and mumbled a bare old bone;
For many a year he had gnawed it near,
For meat was hard to come by.

Troll sat alone on his seat of stone,
And munched and mumbled a bare old bone;
For many a year he had gnawed it near,
For meat was hard to come by.
Done by! Gum by!
In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone,
And meat was hard to come by.

Up came Tom with his big boots on.
Said he to Troll: "Pray, what is yon?
For it looks like the shin o' my nuncle Tim,
As should be a-lyin' in graveyard.
Caveyard! Paveyard!
This many a year has Tim been gone,
And I thought he were lyin' in graveyard."

"My lad," said Troll, "this bone I stole.
But what be bones that lie in a hole?
Thy nuncle was dead as a lump o' lead,
Afore I found his shinbone.
Tinbone! Thinbone!
He can spare a share for a poor old troll,
For he don't need his shinbone."

Said Tom: "I don't see why the likes o' thee
Without axin' leave should go makin' free
With the shank or the shin o' my father's kin;
So hand the old bone over!
Rover! Trover!
Though dead he be, it belongs to he;
So hand the old bone over!"

"For a couple o' pins," says Troll, and grins,
"I'll eat thee too, and gnaw thy shins.
A bit o' fresh meat will go down sweet!
I'll try my teeth on thee now.*
Hee now! See now!
I'm tired o' gnawing old bones and skins;
I've a mind to dine on thee now."

*[as read by Tolkien on the tape:]
Thee'll be a nice change from thine nuncle.
Sunkle! Drunkle!
I'm tired of gnawing old bones and skins;
Thee'll be a nice change from thine nuncle."

But just as he thought his dinner was caught,
He found his hands had hold of naught.
Before he could mind, Tom slipped behind
And gave him the boot to larn him.
Warn him! Darn him!
A bump o' the boot on the seat, Tom thought,
Would be the way to larn him.

But harder than stone is the flesh and bone
Of a troll that sits in the hills alone.
As well set your boot to the mountain's root,
For the seat of a troll don't feel it.
Peel it! Heal it!
Old Troll laughed, when he heard Tom groan,
And he knew his toes could feel it.

Tom's leg is game, since home he came,
And his bootless foot is lasting lame;
But Troll don't care, and he's still there
With the bone he boned from it's owner.
Doner! Boner!
Troll's old seat is still the same,
And the bone he boned from its owner!
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The Crazy Flu
- By Debra L. Brown
- Published by Family Friend Poems March 2019 with permission of the Author.
With the flu season upon us, having the flu can be miserable. If we can see some humor in it, it could be good for the soul.

in Humorous Poems

There once was a girl named Sue.
She came down with the case of the flu.
She let out a sigh,
"My temperature is high,

There once was a girl named Sue.
She came down with the case of the flu.
She let out a sigh,
"My temperature is high,
what ever shall I do?
Oh my! Oh my!
I think I will die.
What ever shall I do?"

So, she stumbled out of bed.
"I know I'll take some meds.
If this the flu,
I take an aspirin or two.
Then I'll drink some broth and some juice.
Oh my! Oh my!"
she began to cry.
"I think this is acute."

So, she grumbled back to bed
and pulled the covers over her head.
She let out a sneeze,
a cough and a wheeze.
"Won't someone help me, please?
Oh my! Oh my!
Will I survive
the case of the crazy flu?"

So, she finally fell asleep.
She slept and slept for a week.
She tossed and turned,
her symptoms have passed.
Her temperature normal at last.
"Oh my! Oh my!
I think I survived
this case of the crazy flu."
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My Father's Hug
- By Brian A. Bendall
- Published by Family Friend Poems October 2018 with permission of the Author.
I was raised in a musical family. I've played guitar since 1961. My Mom had learned piano when she was young and played organ at her church. Dad sang, played saxophone and harmonica. He even performed with his band on radio back in the 40's. My relationship with my Dad was not always a happy one, but I tried to remember some of the good times I had with him. There were a few, mostly with music involved, but this is one of my most memorable. I hope you can relate to what it meant to me.

Revealing Hidden Emotions

in Father Poems

My Father, he was never one
To show his deepest feelings.
He never cared too much for hugs,
Either giving or receiving.

My Father, he was never one
To show his deepest feelings.
He never cared too much for hugs,
Either giving or receiving.

I guess that's just the way he was,
To hang on to his manhood.
Emotions should be never shown,
I think, he thought no man should.

There was a summer at our lake
Where we would spend vacations.
Our family went there every year
To this beautiful location.

One day my Dad and I set out
To get some food supplies.
We could only go by boat,
But there were cloudy skies.

Half way there, some thunder rolled
And soon it started raining.
No matter what our speed was at,
The storm was quickly gaining.

My cousin's cottage was in sight,
We made a beeline there.
Until the storm had gone away,
That cottage we would share.

The door not locked, no one was home,
So this would be our refuge.
It saved us from the pouring rain
And all that storming deluge.

We sat inside, but not a word
Was said between us two.
We listened to the rain come down,
While the thunder and lightning grew.

Then, deep in thought, my Dad stood up
And started looking 'round.
He saw a box and opened it,
A harmonica he'd found.

He sat back down, slapped it hard,
Then started into play.
There's only one piece he would do,
It's still in my heart this day.

"Maria Elena" was the song
And I just quietly listened.
I'd never heard him play like this,
The notes that came just glistened.

And as he played, his eyes were closed,
His head would weave in rhythm.
He played the song with all his heart
And all the passion in him.

I felt Dad reaching out to me
To show me his emotions.
I began to feel a bit choked up
From this musical devotion.

The storm had all but disappeared,
Though it was still there raging.
The only thing that I could hear,
Was Dad and I engaging.

When he stopped, he looked at me
And saw my eyes were welling.
I couldn't help but feel the love,
Through music, he was telling.

He smiled a bit then bowed his head.
There was nothing more to say.
The storm was gone, we bailed the boat
And continued on our way.

I'd never seen my Dad like that,
Before or even after.
We did have some good times, of course,
With smiles and often, laughter.

But something happened on that day
That's in my heart forever.
Somehow we bonded through that storm,
His "hug" will leave me never.
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Hanging In Tough
- By Jac Judy A. Campbell
- Published by Family Friend Poems April 2018 with permission of the Author.
This is about a friend of mine from church. She became ill with cancer. She was taking chemo and radiation, and through her sickness she was such a brave person. She always trusted in God to get her through the rough times.

Having Faith In God During Tough Times

in Spiritual Poems about Death

A fine lady.
So gallantly strong,
She stands for the good,
The righteous, and God.

A fine lady.
So gallantly strong,
She stands for the good,
The righteous, and God.

At a small little church she faithfully arrives.
She walks quietly about as she silently sighs.
She greets with a hug with outstretched hands.
"How are you doing today? Glad to see you," she says.

I gently embrace her and ask, "How are you doing?
You look pretty today."
With a sad glow in her eyes, she says,
"It's been kinda rough,
But our God's on my side,
And I'm hanging in tough."

With a soft smile on her face, she sits in a pew,
Among family and friends and others she knew.
She graciously prays with her head slightly bowed,
Singing God's hymns with a soft whispering sound.

As she rises to leave, I squeeze her arm and say,
"You look so beautiful and much better today."
She speaks with a quick grin as she touches my cheek
And replies with a voice that's suddenly weak.
"It's a little rough, but you know me,
I'm hanging in tough."

She faithfully arrives at the little church
One last time.
She was carried by loved ones
And friends by her side,
A bouquet was placed on the pew
Where she once sat,
With flowers and ribbons and banner that read:

God's taking me home.
His ride won't be rough,
For my days are all over for me.
Hanging in tough.
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Heirloom Of Love
- By Angie
- Published by Family Friend Poems May 2008 with permission of the Author.
The mixed emotions of a father on his daughter's wedding day.

Mixed Emotions From The Father Of The Bride

in Wedding Poems

There she sits before her mirror,
Primping in excitement, her face flushed.
Today is her day; she will never know
How much I hurt, how scared I am

There she sits before her mirror,
Primping in excitement, her face flushed.
Today is her day; she will never know
How much I hurt, how scared I am
Of the void she will leave behind.

Will she forget me? I'll be replaced
By someone new, someone who makes her heart
Dance in her chest, a drumbeat.
Will he, can he protect her as I've done?
I have no choice but to trust...

I seethe with an almost-rage,
An unfounded, illogical jealousy, an anger
For what he is taking from me.
I am selfish. She is my joy, my life
I would die for her.

Today I will. A thousand times.

Then she turns to look at me.
In her beautiful face I see worry.
For me? She sees the unspilled tears
She knows. Of course, she knows.
She comes to me.

And with the smallest kiss, the subtle smile
All is well. She is still mine.
She will always be mine
In a different and wonderful way.
She is a part of me.

She will move on, she will give others joy,
And I am comforted knowing her goodness
Will be shared by everyone she touches,
And I am okay and proud, and I take her hand
To give her to her love, her new life.

I swell with almost unbearable pride
To have created something so perfect!
She was never mine to keep, this supreme being
Perfect to me. Shining, golden, priceless...
My heirloom of love.

And there he goes, that handsome, kind man
With his new bride, my daughter, my soul.
Does he know what has been passed to him?
He could not know, not yet,
But time will show him; he will realize.

Someday it will be his turn.
He will have to pass her essence on,
In his daughter, my granddaughter,
Our heirloom of love.
Will he weep? With loss, with anger?

Will he sit alone in his daughter's room
Filled with love and happiness...sadness?
No, content. A deep breath will help him stand
As I do now, and I walk with trembling lips
And chin held high. I leave this room.

I close the door.

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This is exactly what I went through the day of my daughter's wedding. Tears and a sort of rage that her new husband was taking her away from me. I questioned whether he could protect her as I...

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Examples Of Narrative Poems - Page 3

I am a 37-year-old volunteer firefighter, father of 4, and husband to a great wife. The gentleman I am writing about is an 89-year-old man who was in WWII and is still going strong. The poem came from my heart and is a great tribute to a very fine man. Dedicated to Clinton Woodley

I wrote this poem when I was a junior in high school...it just mainly tells of a wedding. I'm still waiting for this day!

I worte this poem about a tradition that my Dad and I had of putting up the Christmas lights together.

Based on a true event. A neighbours barking dog led Bazza to howl and bark in the middle of the road with unexpected consequences.

J. R. R. Tolkien is famous for his fantasy novels The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. This poem was sung by Sam Gamgee in The Lord of the Rings. Audio clips can be found of J. R. R. Tolkien singing this song himself.

With the flu season upon us, having the flu can be miserable. If we can see some humor in it, it could be good for the soul.

This is about a friend of mine from church. She became ill with cancer. She was taking chemo and radiation, and through her sickness she was such a brave person. She always trusted in God to get her through the rough times.

The mixed emotions of a father on his daughter's wedding day.