Narrative Love Poems | Examples
These Narrative Love poems are examples of Love poems about Narrative. These are the best examples of Love Narrative poems written by international poets.
The Pensive Poet Poetry Contest. Sponsored by: Constance La France
By Poet "Oh yes, 100% human here. No AI for me."
Come let me tell you a story,
how writers once wrote.
They wrote from their loving hearts,
telling stories in different styles.
Some were rhymes or funny limericks,
verse was a favorite along with a tanka.
I find acrostic to be fun,
but taking more thought and time.
Today this new thing called AI,
is the new kid on the block.
AI has no loving heart to write with,
yet many readers have been blinded.
I put much thought and reflection,
into each poem for my readers.
A true writer writes because they love to,
also writing for their many readers.
Today, out along the east property line
Driving in extra posts to shore up
The ancient and decrepit fence
Carol comments on imagining
What it was like out here before radio
When there was only the sound
Of wind and birds and cows,
And I think how it wasn’t that long ago
And how 99.999% of human history
Was just that way
And how I lived a summer like that in my youth
Building a house while camping
Under a pair of big ponderosas
And a sky full of stars.
And how it was the happiest time of my life
But how it too passed
As our life accelerated up through the centuries.
Today mending fence
It’s nice to be reminded of our roots
And recall all the things we must have done
When life was simpler
And having each other
Was all that mattered.
(7/26/26)
It all began back in September
Less than a year, what a year to remember
A hug on sight was definitely a must
The hunger for love was a hunger for lust
From the sparkle in my eyes to the passion in my soul
From the words that were spoken, to the ones never told
From the beauty with the fire
To the one with no desire
Our purpose was fulfilled and now it is so
The song came to an end, us and the video
Don’t know if any wounds in time will mend
But I’m glad to say, you’re still my friend
Can time ever be measured by a moment in the heart?
Can it ever learn to stand still for the times we are apart?
Love had its time to shine, looking back from now to then
With five loses up to date and zero yet to win.
"Styx"
Eyes that run rivers
reflect Styx crossed.
The Journey commences
spilled from inside
the nowhere land,
risen from a metaphorical drowning -
poetic,
worldless boundaries
of a tablecloth moment,
where shining cutlery is set just so,
in the correct placement -
The Last Supper,
we sit across from each other,
grace is not uttered before the meal
there is nothing left between us -
poetic.
What’s left?
A life stolen -
I let you go.
What will be, will be.
Along the road,
another life, calls me,
Home.
What will be, will be.
I let you go.
Along the road,
Life calls you -
Home.
Candide Diderot. ‘26
While down in hell paying my rent walking along a dark wall, Marcus was climbing from other side to come see me, I mentioned should I let down my hair for you to climb up, knowing I had small haircut, he laughed just on my way to see you for a quiet word. With a cheesy grin.
Marcus came to collect the rent today;
The final coins for a life lived in the shadows.
He said the debt was paid in full,
The struggle settled with blood and time.
He took his things and turned to the light,
But he forgot his hat upon the chair.
Maybe he left it as a quiet promise,
A reason to turn around when the road gets long.
I’ll keep it in a safe place,
Away from the dust and the reaching wind.
Perhaps the freedom won’t fit him like he thought—
Maybe, just maybe, he’ll come back for it.
"The heavy gates have finally latched behind you; the debt of your struggle is paid in full with blood and time. As you step through those golden doors, I offer you this parting gift: the quiet, shimmering realization that you are finally free. Go—and do not look back."
Her heart
Soft as dawn, she hums the lullaby,
hands that mend small storms and tie loose bows.
Her spirit
Bright as noon, she teaches courage, maps, and truth,
laughing at skinned knees, cheering every bold step.
Her soul
Deep as night, she keeps the quiet watch
a steady lighthouse, fierce and tender,
foundation of home.
If e'er you pause upon a night
with frequent sighs and lonely eyes
meet me in the gaze of night
upon celestial skies.
Whether known or foreign lands
or in the plains or wooded stands
meet me gazing near or far
upon the dance floor of a star.
For only high at points of light
can two hearts mingle in the night
and if only for a moment share
the joy of you and me up there.
She wanders where the salt-mist clings,
A pale silhouette on the shore,
While in her heart, a sorrow sings
For him who sails the deep once more.
Her gown is woven from the spray,
Her eyes are mirrors of the tide;
She watches through the dying day
With nowhere left for grief to hide.
The waves deliver only foam,
The gulls cry out a lonely plea;
She waits for him to turn for home,
From out the dark and restless sea.
Though seasons shift and stars turn cold,
And years dissolve in silver light,
Her vigil remains as it was of old,
A phantom flame against the night.
In the night
We sleep together
And I resist the urge
To pull you close
I know you will be leaving me
In the morning
But ask anyway
If you will take me
With you
At least part way
(2/27/26)
Bad people tend to drift along in their own current
Often against the prevailing current
Like a hurt animal just needing a place to hide
While the good flow in the mainstream
Powerfully self-righteous.
The bad do bad things
Wreaking their anti-social havoc and chaos
While the good maintain the order
By whatever means.
And it is this power of order and righteousness
That leads to the greatest evil;
Carpet bombed civilizations
Systemic corruption and fraud
Neighbors lynching neighbors
Because, you know, it can be done
To assuage the fear of the unknown
To harness the power of the crowd
To spread the love of the righteous
All for the Greater Good.
(2/14/26)
"Somewhere in time,"
(not the movie)
poetry
became a narrative
for recording
memories.
It must have been this evening
at my son’s first band concert,
the winter one.
(It was full of songs:
the ones I don't remember,
except for
'Spicy, Chicken Sandwich.'
It was the one
with lots of drums,
and his trumpet).
I told him so,
afterwards.
He was
somewhat less
than interested.
On our way home,
he made me laugh.
My line was:
“I filmed every song, honey.”
His line was:
“Yeah, well
I played every song,
so…”
The “lost in translation”
translation:
"I am a sixth grader.
Everything
you say and do,
mom,
is embarrassing,"
I am the proud:
“Village Idiot."
My mom used to say that
about herself,
when I was his age.
Listen girl to what I say
You're the one I love and you're my bae
There is no reason that I should cheat
And I tell that to them girls I meet
They still gon try and do what they can
And all they want is to take yo man
So I tell them chill - there is no way
For with my lady is where I'll stay
So don't worry over things that you didn't see
And don't listen to lies, cause it wasn't me
So what at times I don't answer my phone
You know one thing, I'm coming home
You're the one who is always there
To love me and show me that you care
You are the one who rubs my feet
Now put some clothes on and let's go eat
Ask your heart, is it love or lust
For it’s your heart that you should trust
The heart that pitter patters with every pounding beat
Beats even faster when the two are about to meet
Is it love or lust, my feelings can’t decide
For if I choose one, would the other be a lie?
Love and lust I have a condition of both
I love and lust his hugs the most
Love or lust, will I ever come to know
For the vision I see, I have yet to show
Love and lusting can be so unfair
When you’re loving and lusting someone who’s not there
With every passing day, the love won’t go away
The distance means nothing, cause on yo mind he stay