Love’s Unwritten Script

A tender journey through unexpected love, shaped by softness, truth, and wonder.

It wasn’t at all what they expected,
When love arrived soft footed at dawn,
Slipping through the cracks of ordinary days,
Quiet as a tide rolling over old footprints,
Yet certain as winter preparing its claim.

They thought love would trumpet itself loudly,
A parade of colors, banners unfurled in the sky,
Instead it whispered in half finished sentences,
In the warmth of shared breath on cold mornings,
In the gentle ache of wanting to stay.

They imagined lightning, sparks, a violent certainty,
But found instead a slow burning glow,
Like lanterns lit along a forgotten shore,
Steady enough to guide them home again.

They expected perfection, flawless skin, tidy souls;
Instead they found trembling hearts and trembling hands,
The truth of being known beyond the practiced smile,
And the peace of not needing to pretend.

They believed love would be simple as a promise,
But learned it was a tapestry; threads pulled, tied,
Fraying at the edges only to be mended again,
Held together by the softness of choosing.

And somewhere in the quiet of these revelations,
A penguin waddled into the memory of their first winter;
Awkward, devoted, offering a pebble of affection,
Reminding them that love is both clumsy and divine,
A small miracle wrapped in the absurd.

They expected the world to stay the same,
Yet every heartbeat shifted the sky,
Every touch rewrote the gravity between them,
Every moment tethered them deeper.

And when they finally dared to look at one another,
Truly look, without armor or expectation,
They understood that love was never the script,
They once rehearsed in lonely rooms,
But something far wilder, softer, and truer.

It wasn’t at all what they expected.


Line Count: 37
Written For: "The Writer's Cramp" 
Prompt: Begin AND End your story or poem with this line - bolded:
It wasn't at all what they expected.AND include a penguin somewhere in your piece.