A victim asked "why am I wronged. I am innocent, never played betrayer"
I exclaimed, "why you want to play the role of a feeble, destiny's caricature?"
He was silent by my words, I put my hands on his shoulder,
Hugged him, whispered: "In the game of Victor and Victim,
the looser is the marathon winner"
Mistress Mairead, our dragon queen,
who dwells in a realm, rarely seen;
and cares for us dragons when we need,
love, affection, healing and feed.
A mighty empress who guards our lot,
from the dangers that humans wrought.
Her castle stands among the hills,
north of the town’s new water mill.
You won’t see it though you may search,
throughout those hills for whatever it’s worth.
A spell she’s cast stops prying eyes;
so we dragons have great space to hide.
When we’re sick or needing rest,
we embark upon dragon-quest;
to Mother Mairead’s castle, her safe keep;
and in tranquility enjoy safe sleep.
2-12-2020
Let the Pens Flow - Narrative Poetry Contest
Jenish Somadas
I'm going to sea in a blueberry boat
Full of bananas and chocolate like an ice cream float
Raising cotton candy sails with my best friend
Picking up speed in the pixie dust wind
Rock candy dolphins jump in the strawberry sea
My crew of gingerbread boys sail with me
Gumballs, candy and sweet lollypops
Yummy filled pies with whipped cream tops
Sailing to Toy Island for girls and boys
Games for everyone and lots of toys
Do everything you always wanted to do
Where magical dreams really do come true
Let The pens Flow / Narrative Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jenish Somadas
2/6/20
I sat there staring at the screen
Thinking about lunch
Feeling very lean
I sat there still
Letters taunting me
Staring out the window sill
All I got was Nature staring back
Mocking me completely
I grew so slack
Haiku’s flashed through my head
So short and sweet
Frustrated, I went out to my shed
But narrative poetry that I must
Haiku’s so less sticky
My heads about to bust
Haiku’s I pressed on
The boss said otherwise
So much I think I might go eat a flan
Who’s this boss?
Master of school and more
Salad she did toss
She who is the bomb
Yet stern as a stone
She is known as my wonderful mom
What shall I ever do
Going through such misery
I shall go watch Winnie the pooh
Going to the big screen
I watched away
But I must return to my previous scene
Back at the small screen I ate a skittle
Procrastinating much
Thinking little
Finally arriving at the last
I think about Haiku’s
But I actually had a blast
In the yard I see our gnome
Standing there alone
Telling me to end my narrative poem
All brides are lovely on their wedding day.
But she glows with her upswept auburn hair,
and her blue eyes sparkling under her veil.
He steps back and takes a mental snapshot.
He never wants to forget this moment.
She looks one last time at her reflection,
and with a deep breath, calmly takes his hand.
He has happily awaited this day,
and he has dreaded this day since her birth.
This father is filled with mixed emotions.
He smiles at his daughter with teary eyes.
She kisses his cheek as the music starts.
"Procession of Joy" echoes in his ears.
All eyes are fixed on the beautiful bride,
but his eyes watch his future son-in-law.
He looks closely for the groom's reaction.
The nervous groom radiates with true love ~
a smile of joy as sweat beads from his brow,
and Dad smiles knowing his daughter chose well.
A father could want nothing more than this.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
Tenth place in Narratives contest
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, February 22, 2012
for Narrative Poetry Contest (Catie Lindsey)
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.