Nobody knows this little rose...you have a story to tell? That's what Narrative poetry is for. All you true story writers at heart, you can find refuge in this genre. And those who aren't, you can still have a little fun. Who doesn't love a good story? Being a story, btw, it may be a little longer than the average poem, and then again it can be a small size. It must have characters, and a plot, or main idea of some sort, a resolution, all those elements of a story. It can have a pretty regular format, but it can look any way as long as it gets the point across. Voice of the characters and speaker are also very important (main character may be speaker). Some poets like this are Emily Dickinson, Edgar Allen Poe, Langston Hughes, Maya Angelou, Nikki Giovanni, Robert Frost, and many others...who just write stories in their poetry. Narrative poetry is a wide spectrum, including things like fireside poetry, maybe even satire, things like those old epic that were like a thousand pages long (The Odyssey, Gilgamesh, The Illiad...these are the reasons why narrative poetry has no beginning date). These also go under Narrative Poetry. If it tells a story with characters, then it's narrative.
Nobody Knows This Little Rose by Emily Dickinson
Nobody knows this little Rose --
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Ah Little Rose -- how easy
For such as thee to die!
Nobody knows this little Rose --
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Ah Little Rose -- how easy
For such as thee to die!
Emily Dikcinson is speaking of a rose. She's giving it person-like qualities, which makes this poem a good example of personification. "It might a pilgrim be". Saying it's a pilgrim, paired with the fact that you wouldn't know of it lest she "lift it up to thee" shows how trivial a rose's life is. No one even notices it. Speaking of the way a rose lives its life and then dies, she wonders....who really cares about this thing? Where is its importance? This is proven well in this point:
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Only a Bee or Bird or Butterfly or Breeze will notice it. She feels that's its significance, or importance, to her, and everyone else.
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Only a Bee or Bird or Butterfly or Breeze will notice it. She feels that's its significance, or importance, to her, and everyone else.