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Tribute Narrative Poems | Narrative Poems About Tribute

These Tribute Narrative poems are examples of Narrative poems about Tribute. These are the best examples of Tribute Narrative poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative |

I Remember When

With just a little coaxing I can remember when Excitement ruled my early days when you'd come home again. I was a boy, just seven or eight and you were fully grown. And it was a very special time when "Brother" would come home. You and your special Mildred, The two of you and "Wart"--- You see, I can't remember the three of you apart. Since you were up and married before I was ever born, I can't remember all the things that happened on the farm. But, things I do remember -- I can remember well -- Like the gifts you brought at Christmas none others could excel. – Like the places you would take us, Mildred, me and "Wart" -- We'd race the train to Cameron if that old Ford would start. – Like the times we'd all go riding and it seemed the car would wiggle -- We'd look and see you steal a kiss and me and "Wart" would giggle. Looking back, I realize the young love you both shared Began a life together that God himself prepared. So, no matter where I wander, No matter where I roam --- No thrills can match the ones I knew When "Brother" would come home. Author’s Note: This was written for my oldest brother and his wife, Mildred, on the occasion of their 50th wedding anniversary. During WW2 he held a most critical position with the government in New Mexico. “Brother” was a nickname we used for him and “Wart” was a nickname he gave his oldest son, my nephew, only one year Younger than me. He was an inspiration to everyone he met. His life story is motion picture material.


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My Bicycle

Once I had a bicycle,
A loving present from my grandfather;
Since I was his favorite granddaughter,
He granted my wish at a snap of my finger .

Since he was so old,
A new bicycle he could hardly afford;
He took his bike when he was young,
Which I found it once at the back of our barn.

As far as I remember,
It was really so old and rugged;
But my grandpa was like Mr. Mac-Gyber,
Amazingly fixing all things all-over.

My granda was a well-known painter,
I thought he will repaint and use sandpapers;
When I surreptitiously sneaked into his hut,
He was there recycling all my milk cans.

When everything was done,
He gladly gave it to me with a big hug;
I hurriedly drove it at once,
Down the street and field with so much fun.

“My bike was real a unique one!” I thought.
So different from others in our neighborhood,
Its wailing siren was made up of a  cow’s horn,
Tubes were made of dried bamboos and corn.

Other parts were still the same,
Like forks, hubs and chainwheel set,
The rest were made up  of my milk cans,
They were pedal, brake and seatgear stem.

Handle bars were what I like  most,
Converted from the handle of his old plow;
So sturdy and so strong all I knew,
And  I can drive it  so long in full control.

However, when I travelled quite afar,
Parts were falling one at a time;
Until everything suddenly split apart,
Eventually it dropped and rolled me down.



Date: Aug. 3, 2012
( A loving tribute to my dearest Father)


4th Place Winner
Contest: Any Poem of the Week Contest
Contest Judged: 8/4/12         12:00:00 AM
Poet Sponsor: Poet-Destroyer


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the crucible savant

The crucible savant..    by Steven Hudson
(Crucible: A place or situation in which concentrated forces interact to cause or influence  change or development.
  Savant:  a person of learning…)

Through sleepless, hopeless nights
With liquor on breath and dull head
Alone and cold in lay,
We made our passage to manhood,
Many days in suffer and want
Through tears and hardness of heart,
With sorrow for cellmates
In a prison self-made,
Rather hunger and want 
Then submission to those above,
Wild wanderlust thrust us into darkness
Uncertainty of survival, without care,
Knowing no other way,
We strove to understand the deeds done to us in violence,
Shiver, quake, lie awake, as hopelessness covered us like a blanket,
Thieves and murderers as strange bedfellows,
Ladies of the night for use and forgotten,
Laws of the land forsaken, 
In desperate want, Never knowing if we’d  awaken,
Making our way through this world
Boys living as men,
We threw the line, heaved and toiled
In bright sun and fear,
With hands and feet against the frigid snow,
We lived beyond the breaking,
Many before us have sought their manhood,
While others have had it thrust upon them,
Much has been learned, much has been taught
By the flames and the fire, the crucible savant,
It has been our right of passage
Through bloodstained cloth and scars,
The fathers who came before us, live forever in the Arms,
Painted grey, now I see, the path laid out for me,
By the Infinite Son, whose Glory was won,
Making the savant, a reflection of Thee..


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Healing Words

My mother, my grandmother before has always held a place in my heart.
My father, and my grandfather before has the same part.
I was young and very active with unwillingness to listen fully to what they had to say.
I had a problem, never could be solved without my parents and grandparents till today.
With patience they all come to my aid when I fall on my face.
With little dishonor I listen to them and what they had to say, I embrace.
Over the years I go to them with no doubt a feeling of no dismay.
Over the years I go to them and they help me solve problems that to me is O.K.
Now I am getting a bit more aware of what had happen to me when I was growing.
Now I remember how the ride was in my beginning: it was a trial of not knowing.
With the guided words of my parents and grandparents I survive through them all.
With it some being a problem that I remember I recall.
My mother and my grandmother always said to be patient and it will be easy to solve.
My father and my grandfather always knew that I would grow and evolve.
I could wonder everyday what if my parents and grandparents was not in my life.
I could just think that would be fatal like a stab with a knife.
With knowledge that they had past on to me of what they had experience.
With their proof of teachings they had past on to me is their self existence.
Over the years I grew with life so full of happiness that was because of my families love.
Over the years it showed me the path that led me to all the above.
Now cherish those words that help me through my troubles in my new family.
Now I listen to my parents healing words of wisdom and except them gladly.


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A Woman's Worth

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
She works
She cleans
Then roll up her sleeves ; and
Take care of the kids; and
The house 
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.


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Darkest Moment's Passing By

it was already dark outside silence had totally ruined the night only my lampshade in my room was at my side trying to comfort me in all my sorrows and trembling fear inside as soft tick-tocks of the clock were heard my heartbeat increased its rate I asked, “Are they reckoning that few time for him has already been left?” I began to feel, I was already in abyss of despair the phone had rung for the second time my mom and aunt once again were at the other end of the line thunder storms blasted followed by a torrent of rain when they asked me to talk to my dad to finally say goodbye to him I tried to talk to him but he could no longer answer me despite the silence at the other end I didn’t stop begging him I cried and cried out so hard as the darkest moment started creeping through my veins until my aunt answered the phone in lieu of him begging me back to let him go, so as to release him from all the pains to say the word goodbye to my dearest dad was the hardest thing to do in my whole life it had totally broken my heart and seemed as if I was losing my mind so, I kept crying out and begging him to fight he’s miles away and I couldn’t just reach him out or to be right there on his side I knew he can hear me, so I kept reminding him about what I’ve promised when I went back home to spend a short time and took care of him I’d promised that I’ll fly right back home after my work to take care of him again and walk him out of the door together we supposed to walk around our house with his arms on my shoulders my aunt begged me for the last time to finally free him it was against my will but I decided to do what was best for him when he was finally gone, I unconsciously screamed alone in my room miles away from home, I was in deep pain I felt like I was totally engulfed by the darkest of the night I rolled my body on bed, crying out loud and hugging my pillows so tight wishing someone had to put me into trance, so I closed my eyes while in prayer, I imagined him waving goodbye as he finally went up there through the brightest light
Feb. 23,2013 Note: This poem is also tribute to my dearest dad on his coming death anniversary. May he rest in peace. I miss my dad so much. Second Place Contest: New Poem Judged: 2/24/13 Poet Sponsor: Poet Linda/PD


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PRINCESS

I recall it was just the other day Featured in the daily for which we pay Your blown-up photo splashed across The front page for all to gloss Your background and your virtues extolled For your wedding bells were soon to toll With a king-in-waiting as the groom You would wilt or you would bloom For marriage makes or marriage breaks And happiness, it gives or takes. Demure and with dimpled smile With an innocent heart, free of guile The press was exuberant, so were we You were the most charming in the royal family. Welcomed all across the globe The royal couple widely roved Ambassadors of all things good Displaying virtues like royalty would You touched hearts wherever you went Concern and compassion were your strength. You were blessed in due course With two sons that God had chose Then differences with the prince surfaced And you lost face, where you once graced And while your marriage began to flounder Your man, the prince continued to blunder On the treacherous rocks of marital infidelity You were shattered – your happiness was the casualty. You decided to go your separate ways Those were also the wishes of the palace The trauma of separation was sheer hell The ways of royalty were beginning to tell. Now, hordes of newsmen invaded your privacy In your land and beyond, you became a refugee The air was also rife with rumours Of liaisons and friendships and misdemeanours Your saddest day though, was the divorce Of you, whose touch was like the kiss of a rose. And alone, sweet Princess, you forged along Your grace, in adversity, inspired many a song Of worthy causes, you were still a crusader And you remained ever, a loving mother. It is said, you had found love at last And the leech like lensmen went wild with thirst For photos which augment tabloid sales They chased you in cars and astride motorcycles. For you, a Parisian tunnel was the end of the road You didn’t reap in life, what you had sowed And while your life ebbed within the wreck The paparazzi zoomed in, to make hay off the break Your blood-spattered close-ups drove them to frenzy As you lay helpless, unattended and in agony. And later in the night, mercifully all was darkness The world woke to a tragedy caused by sheer madness


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How my life was transformed

I’m going to tell a story now of a man who having served his time in a war torn country, but due to a very sensitive nature suffered from what they like to call ‘Post traumatic stress disorder’, he was like this for many, many years, with all the symptoms of anger, paranoid, fear and anxiety, and was impossible to live with. He had studied everything from self help gurus, to spiritual teachers to conventional counselling {that man was I} but nothing helped, I just got worse and worse, which ended up in me leaving home, and in the process throwing away every thing I had ever built up, that was half way decent. After a year I went back home, my tail between my legs, to try over. But no, I was still impossible to live with, and there was never any real peace with me around. I had tried every kind of meditation, self hypnosis, positive thinking, and nothing worked. The writing did help me quite a bit, but it was never enough.

Then one day I discovered on the net an American gentleman, named John Sherman. I went on his site, at no cost whatsoever And I heard what he said, when he told me one simple thing to do. He told me to go behind my thoughts and just look at me
The me that is there behind all the thoughts and emotions when everything is gone; The me one speaks about when he or she points to themselves and says ‘me‘. Now this seemed so simplistic to me, and I kind of scoffed at it, but I tried it anyway, because I was rather desperate to bring about some changes, and I had tried everything else. it was so easy for me, and I started to do it whenever it came to me to do so. This was four years ago now, and I have practiced what he said religiously.


Now, four years later I am a different being, the anger is gone, the misery is non existent, My fear of death is all but gone, and I feel like life is one big wonderful dance. If anyone has troubles of this kind and cannot lead a peaceful life… go to 
‘www.justonelook.org’ And let John and his wife Carla help you, there are no conditions no religion and definitely no payments to be made. Just felt I had to tell someone about the Sherman’s, because of what happened to me     Peter.


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Dedication to Everyone

I feel that I have found a home in this cyberspace
with full of hearts and ideas in a special place
I wonder of all the people in the world to make me smile
with antics that help me grow in every mile
I do want to say to all of the people with respect
because of all of you my mind is not in a wreck
I would lie if I did not get ideas from all of you
without you my poems would not come true
I bless everyone with care 
with kindness and without dis-pare
I hold my hands high and put them together
with this I bless you with good weather
I do read some of the poems that people put out
sometimes I feel with out a doubt
I feel the pain in the poems that some has revealed
with hopes that they can read with their mind not sealed
I smile a bunch with every word
it is like a music in my head making a cord
I do want you all to know that you have made my day
to be a better day in every different array
I cherish my time with all the people in my heart
the words flow in my mind is just but a start
I'm happy with everyone in PoetrySoup.com 
with hardship that came this cyberspace makes me calm
I cannot choose five cause if I do I don't think it's right
just to tell you that is just my own insight
I thank all for helping me grow with all the poems that are shown
with faith and humor, with views of kindness this site has grown

If I had to say or dedicate my poems to who 
would be the first five who reads my poems with a point of view


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Before my Eyes

I watched her walk away
And my mind wondered away
Do I or Not
Count the fading heels
Count the healing strides
Count the fast passing past
Finger after finger

I never stopped and I cursed
To voice atop the last floor
How do I or Not
Steal tomorrow from the day
Beam with joy where I don’t enjoy
Look back and see you seeing me
Like children hiding nothing

The fire is gone
The bush is growing on cinder
Will it or  Not
Shoot each foil and flower
Summon you who lights the fire
Pretend nothing ever killed
The whole generation of Love


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