A New York Kind of Love

A short poetic romance story...

Hello lovely,

I’m back with another short poetic romance story. A story built from scraps of poems, littering my notes app, that I never knew quite what to do with — until I started this series. Some of these pieces have also been taken from my books, because it felt like I had more of a story to tell since I first wrote them.

And can I just say, how much I adore writing these stories!

You see, for over a year now, I’ve been trying to write a romance novella - on and off - and got stumped by a plot hole that I truly do not yet know how work around.

The idea of publishing a romance novella made my heart sing and I went out, all guns blazing when I began writing it. Only to later reveal to myself that I seem to be a panster and had no prior planning, only an idea one day that I felt excited by.

Now, as I’m sure is true for many writers, the unfinished first draft of my debut novella is gathering fictional dust in the dark corner of my laptop files.

I do plan to go back and revisit it soon, now that my newest poetry book has flown the nest and I have a little more headspace once again. However, I do feel I’ve lost some of that original spark I had towards writing it. I’m hoping I can rekindle it.

Anyway, in the meantime, I have needed to get my fill of writing something romantic, and loved the idea of creating somewhat of a series of short romantic stories.

Some of these lines were written years ago, left to wilt at the bottom of a forgotten note, so what better way to get them out into the world than by turning them into a short poetic romance story.

---

A New York Kind of Love

She would take the train into the city to see him…
Those rainy New York nights spent together,
tangled on his apartment floor, sharing a bottle of wine or two —
and pizza from the Italian across the street.
She never wanted to leave and take the train back home,
because right there, wrapped in his arms, was where she truly called home.

Slow dancing in the kitchen like they did back in college,
swapping Skrillex for Sinatra,
drum and bass for bossa nova,
house music for house wine.

Cheese and wine,
and endless conversation —
reminiscing on their past.
Limbs entwined on the sofa,
patiently waiting to greet the rising sun.

Making up for lost time.
Of too long spent loving the wrong people.
Of nights spent wondering, hoping, longing… for the touch one another, once more.

As she gazed out across Manhattan, all the stars were shining brighter than any diamond in Tiffany’s.

She thought to herself that right there was all she needed — wrapped in his warm embrace. Simple pleasures were all she needed.

All she longed for was him —
to kiss in the torrential rain,
to dance under the starry skies,
and to hold hands tightly through tough times.
To sleep in together on Sundays, for the rest of their days.

A love found, a love lost, a love born again.

Perhaps she did believe in fate… It brought them back together after all.

---

I’m so grateful to have you here. If you enjoyed this post, why not share it?

If you’d like to support me further, why not check out my collection of poetry books?