These Woman Narrative poems are examples of Narrative poems about Woman. These are the best examples of Woman Narrative poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
I’m really not a jealous person. I am happy for those who are fortunate in life. If I see a lady who has a beautiful family that loves her, I am happy for her. When a guy pull up in a fully restored ’57 Chevy convertible, complete w/ vanity license plates reading “AHH YEAH”, I’m happy for him. I have met two people in my life who have won large lottery jackpots, and I was very happy for them. Even when I see a drop-dead gorgeous exotic looking young woman wearing Chanel and four and a half inch Jimmy Choos, I am delighted for her. Seriously, I’m just not an envious person by nature.
Yesterday, my tire blew out. While I was waiting for my husband, I went into a local pub. A nice girl, Jenna, started a conversation with me. She was missing all four of her front teeth! We somehow started talking about dieting, and she told me that it is impossible for her to gain weight. She mentioned she weighed 102 lbs. and that she would love to gain at least 5 pounds but just couldn’t. She complained about how her metabolism was just “too high.” I’m sitting there with that old country song playing in my head...“A metabolism too high…What’s that mean? It’s like too much money, no such thing.”
Ironically, it happened to be karaoke evening. Once the festivities started, I clinged to the hope that my DVR was working and recording American Idol so I could watch it when I got home. “Big Matt” was up first singing George Straits. He was actually good. We all clapped. Next, it was Jenna.
I watched Jenna sing. In a world where if most of us had the misfortune to lose even one of our teeth, we would not leave the house unless it was to be fitted with our Davinci Veneers, this gal was poised and confident. She sang beautifully.
I found myself actually envious of this young woman. Not, however, for the reason you think. I found myself envious of her confidence. Despite her appearance, she sang with passion, poise and enthusiasm. Even missing all four of those front teeth, she could get up in front of that crowd and dazzle us all with her nice voice and pleasant demeanor.
As my husband came to my rescue, I left smiling.
I left smiling knowing that there are people like Jenna in this world.
I left smiling knowing that I do give people the benefit of the doubt.
I left smiling knowing that I do always look for the best others.
I left smiling knowing it is possible for me to be jealous of a young woman who is missing her front teeth.
The pricking sun starts to hide
when the stars unfurl their cloaks
The darkness starts to creep this evening
Oh I can feel my spirit rising
I stayed at the corner
And concealed by the dim
As I waited for them
With a see through dress
it reveals my fresh taut breast
and flaunt my crescent hips
Prowling, peering, peeping
like the voyeur moon
Scanning these passerby men
with a filthy eye
Ops, I spotted one!
"Pssst, pssst, pssst"
is an enchanting invitation
from this lovely siren
And I receive a glance
With a wink of an eye
he give in to mine
In my bed I prepared
sheets of smooth linens,
rose spattered floors
like a shattered virgin,
Sets of burning candles
weep my husband's leave
but their lights celebrate
my burning desires
He perfumed me with his breath
He oiled my body with kisses
fluids dripping in my flesh
Giving and receiving
Warm bodies colliding
Flesh against flesh
as this fire we unleash
Riding to pleasure
till we reach hell's depth
I'm a flesh huntress
who craves for flesh
I sling sweet talk
and bait my body
I need not snare
for that is man's desire
Don't dare to escape
As I cast sin's net
This poem is inspired by proverb's immoral woman...I am not pointing to a woman in
general...this is just a particular woman whom I also know....the point of view here is
For thoose of you who may not know.
Just call me gonzo I write the absurd for life is insane and sometimes
it takes a madman to speak the truth so very clear.
I write for the broken vacant faces that have lost all hope.
To the dreamer who's well is slowley running dry from everyone
telling him to stop wasting his time.
I write like a endless highway fueled by whiskey and wild women
every adventure leads to pain but life is pain and i love in spite of it.
I thirst for every unseen mile the desert my brother it's people dwell
in the spirt of the west the opium parlors and brothels spirt still linger.
I write with a hint of danger and a promise of disaster.
Im a blues player whos trying to out run the devil.
Im a outlaw riding to cross the border a woman looking to the
empty range for my return.
I write because I breath in a world were the creative air has gone
The bottle sits apon table and I welcome any strangers company
I just rather that stranger be a warm woman instead of a
unfriendly amigo who is a little jelouse.
Write to be more than just part of the highways landscape.
Some may call me crude crazy insane some even vulgar and
liar and thief.
But aside from thoose compliments.
No matter what you may call me.
Dont ever forget to just call me gonzo.
"Don't stand there,mouth agape
Staring at the lines on my face,like a map
It was you who put me out of shape
You,who always make me snap.
What you once felt for me is all gone
Sometimes I've an edge to pick up the phone
But I'm afraid if I call the police
The bruises and scars,they might not notice.
It's something I accumulated over the years
Judging by the rivers and oceans of tears.
Extinguish from your eyes that distant light
After all these years you have no right.
It hurts like hell
Withdrawing into a shell,
Seeing all those women in your life
When I'm supposed to be your wife.
There are many things that I miss
I've forgotten the taste of your kiss
And the only thing that I remember
Is that we were married in december
If open to my wish lay all nature
I would command time to rub its signature
Off my back.Maybe young again
I would learn to fall in love again".
When a woman cries
Something in her eyes
Tries to swim but dies.
Is it hope,faith or maybe lies.
I know a woman so brave and strong that married
her sweetheart and made a new home.
They were determined to make a good life,
so he joined the Marines and went off to fight.
They lived in countries so far away and had two
sons during their stay.
Then they came home and settled down,
somewhere in North Carolina, a military town.
One day the news came he had to leave for awhile,
although she was crying, he only saw a smile.
He called her as often, as he was allowed,she
sent him packages that drew a crowd.
Then the news came, he had been hit, a roadside
bomb, and it was real bad.
Her eyes welled up with tears of fear, hearing the
words she hoped never to hear.
Strong and determined to find out the facts,
her husband was severely injured in Iraq. She told
the men that had come bearing the news that eve,
this man my husband, who just happens to be
a Marine, is my whole world, and has always
She made certain his care was very good, and beside
his bed, this brave woman stood.
She left her sons in the care of her mom, and
told them both, soon you can come. I know now,
God gave her wings, but from us they are hid.
Up on a hill there was an old house and in it lived Abigail, a young lady without a spouse. One day her doorbell rang and she went to the door. There stood an old man, his head to the floor. He appeared scared and weak so she let him come in, for if she didn’t it’d be a sure sin. The old man smiled and gave his thanks, and she said, “Not to worry, there’s no need to thank.”
Abigail and the elder talked for quite a long time. Sharing story after story, and soon drinking wine. The two became very good friends and laughed, and laughed ‘til night came to end.
When the next day dawned, they went for a walk, down at the pond they decided to stop. It was frigid and misty, but they enjoyed the stroll because their friendship was warmer than the wind’s dreadful cold. As they stood in front of the calm, cool pond, Abigail asked, “Where do you come from?” The old man laughed a deep, dark laugh, “I come from the boneyard, the place of last breaths. I am the man, which many name Death.”
The creeping old man then pulled out a knife and slashed Abigail’s throat before she could fright. Her life left instantly, her body grew cold, and the elder’s smile sparkled like gold.
The pond was hungry and the old man knew that Abigail’s corpse would have to go soon. He tied a brick to both of her feet and tossed her away into the deep. As her body sunk into the watery blue, the elder stood there and felt renewed.
Back on the trail the aged man went. Not a worry in mind, no remorse ever meant. He did what had to be done, to the grave his soul belonged.
The elder approached another ol’ house. He rang the doorbell and waited, innocent as a mouse.
I can’t change/You can’t change/We are Two separate/ people with Two separate hearts when did this road shred apart/
I can’t force this love anymore/ I am lost in deep thought / Emotional pain hurts/ but when you Add mental games/ and a teaspoon of lies/ It’s just ugly as a newborn cries for help
This broken heart lingers woman/ I am tired/ Trying to piece this love hate relationship together/ it’s so torn in pieces I can’t pinpoint the location/ we are too far apart / Now longitude and latitude can’t place us together/broken hearts/ Frustrating tears/
Now it’s two separate lines/ two different directions/ do you see my reflection/ reflect off this glass mirror/ Now look at my torn face as sweats falls off my face/ Tears in my eyes a whale can swim/ It’s frustrating to find a answer/ At first I couldn’t sleep/ lonely night became very dark / but now start to feel like Morning’s are my best sunshine
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears
A lost woman the mirror reflects
Young; and it’s apparent
I can see it in her eyes
No focus and childbearing
Just ass, legs, and thighs in mind
If she knew better
Learned better; and
He would show her a better way of living
Instead of dealing with cowards
Seek a man with moral and merit
He’s stealing your joy
He’s bringing you pain
Removing your youth
He’s playing games
The truth at heart is
Reality should be your first thought
Loneliness is not your fault
It’s a part of life for most
Don’t let it destroy your values
You’ll find a true love to treasure you.
What woman wouldn’t want rubies or pure pearls,
Or winning a trip to cruise around the entire world?
What about having a diamond as deep as the ocean blue?
What is it that makes you desire the heart of diamonds so true?
Diamonds are a girl’s best friend, this I know to be true,
It is truly amazing to see them sparkle as we see them in view.
It matters not of what color, shape, or size they may be,
A diamond is still a diamond, a gem that is never free.
The endless beauty of a pure diamond is such a surprise,
To see a woman light up with excitement in her tender eyes.
When she is presented a beautiful diamond from her true love,
Who showers her with the best, its purity is like that of a Heavenly white dove.
With each passing day, we often forget how beautiful they are,
For when they sparkle, it reminds us of all of the wonderful , shining stars.
Whenever you go shopping, don’t be afraid to stop in,
A fine jeweler near you, carrying diamonds, a girl’s best friend.
A Woman’s Worth
By Nate Spears
Her purpose in this world is hurting
She’s never been a designed of perfect
But she is a mom, so she’s super
Then roll up her sleeves ; and
Take care of the kids; and
Making it a home
For a beautiful family to roam
Building wonderful memories
Becoming a woman of worth
Keeping her faith through Christ
Keeping her pace through health
Keeping her sanity through managing
This is a woman’s worth
I’m giving you
Despite of all the stress
She receives her family with open arms
Through all the mess
She’s a fantastic mom
A wonderful woman
Deserving a round of applause
Plus a standing ovation
For always being an American sensation
That held this continent down since day one
Since the Plymouth Rock landed on us
Thank you for her giving
Thank you for her living
Thank you for her children
This is ,
A woman’s worth.