Question

alexa aleksanian
narrative poem assignment: tell a story in verse
objective
you will write a narrative poem—a poem that tells a story with characters, conflict, and a clear beginning, middle, and end. your poem should use poetic devices while still following the structure of a narrative.
task
write a narrative poem that tells a complete story.
your poem should:

• pull the reader in with strong imagery
• build tension or emotion
• show—not tell—what happens
• end with a satisfying conclusion

Explanation:

A narrative poem with a complete story, strong imagery, built tension, "show-don't-tell" storytelling, and a satisfying conclusion is created below, following the assignment requirements.

Answer:

The Keeper of the Hollow Oak

(Opening: Sets the scene with imagery, introduces the character)
Beneath the oak where moss weaves shawls,
Marnie tends to chipped clay bowls—
Each curve holds rain from last month’s storm,
Each crack a tale her hands reform.
Her boots caked thick with loam and rot,
She hums the tune her mother taught:
*“Bury the worry, let the roots keep watch,
The hollow oak will hold what’s caught.”*

(Building tension: Introduces conflict, shows rather than tells)
One dusk, a stranger’s boot struck hard
Against the stone where acards marred—
His coat stitched tight with silver thread,
His eyes like chips of frozen lead.
“Old tree hides gold,” he growled, “I know—
Hand over what you’ve stowed below.”
Marnie’s fingers curled around a shard,
Her breath a mist that clung and barred
His step; the oak’s low creak now rose,
A groan that shook the mossy rows.

(Climax: Heightens emotion, uses imagery to show action)
He wrenched an axe from leather loops,
Swung at the bark where the dark root droops—
The oak split wide, a gush of air
That carried scents of clover, pear,
And childhood laughs, and lullabies,
And all the things Marnie held tight.
She lunged, not with rage, but with a plea,
And pressed her palm to the cavity:
*“This isn’t gold—it’s memory,
The only wealth that stays with me.”*

(Conclusion: Satisfying resolution, wraps the narrative)
The stranger paused, his axe now still,
Stared at the trinkets, small and frail:
A faded ribbon, a chipped toy boat,
A note that said “I love you” scrawled.
He sheathed his axe, turned, and walked away,
His boots soft now on the clay.
Marnie knelt, and with her hands,
Tucked the memories back in the lands
Of the hollow oak, whose bark now knit
A little tighter, warm and fit.
That night, she hummed her mother’s song,
As the oak held all that belonged.