Tag: long distance love poem

  • Author’s Note

    Unshaken Ground was written during a season of reflection about what love truly means. So often we’re taught that love is sudden, dramatic, or overwhelming – but the kind of love I believe in is built slowly and intentionally. Like a house with a strong foundation, it requires patience, car, and the willingness to lay each stone deliberately.

    This poem explores the idea that real devotion isn’t fragile or fleeting. It’s steady. It grows through distance, through time, through trust carefully built piece by piece. The speaker offers not grand promises made in haste, but a quiet vow: to build something strong enough to last.

    At its heart, Unshaken Ground is about creating a safe space for another person’s heart – a love that stands firm no matter how long the journey takes.

    Rowan Evans


    Stone foundation overlooking the ocean at sunset symbolizing steadfast love and a strong emotional foundation
    Love worth keeping is not built in a moment—it is laid stone by stone, steady and unshaken.

    Unshaken Ground
    Poetry by Rowan Evans
    (written February 20th, 2025)

    I do not build on sand, fleeting and weak,
    where waves of doubt erode what we seek.
    No, my muse, I carve each stone with care,
    laying them firm, piece by piece, laid bare.

    This foundation is not rushed nor undone,
    it’s tempered in patience, beneath the same sun.
    Brick by brick, trust will rise,
    a home for your heart behind steadfast eyes.

    The distance may stretch like an endless sea,
    but my words are the bridges from you to me.
    Each vow I craft, a pillar strong,
    to hold you safe where you belong.

    You are worthy of towers kissed by gold,
    of walls that shelter from nights so cold.
    Not a castle of glass, fragile and thin,
    but a fortress where love will not cave in.

    I will weave my devotion like roots in the earth,
    steady and deep, proving your worth.
    No fleeting storm can wash me away,
    I am here, my muse, I will always stay.

    And one day, no oceans to stand in our way,
    I’ll cross them all—just to say, I stayed.
    Not just in words, but in presence and touch,
    to give you the love you’ve deserved so much.


    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]

  • Author’s Note

    This piece lives in the quiet space between distance and presence.

    It’s about feeling someone’s gravity even when they’re oceans away. About how connection doesn’t always require proximity – sometimes it’s rhythm, sometimes it’s memory, sometimes it’s simply the way silence stops feeling empty.

    We haven’t met face to face. We haven’t shared the same room. And yet, there are moments where distance feels smaller than it should.

    Some connections don’t shout.

    They pull.

    Rowan Evans


    Moonlight reflecting across calm ocean waves at night.
    Some distances are measured in miles.
    Others are measured in gravity.

    Moon & Tide (Even in Silence)
    Poetry by Rowan Evans

    Even in silence, I hear you—
    Your voice, a phantom in my ear.
    A sound, I long to always hear.

    When I close my eyes,
    and my vision’s ceased—
    it’s you that I see.

    You’re not here,
    and you’ve never been—
    but still, I feel you near.

    Silence isn’t really silent
    anymore, it echoes—
    with laugher,
    with warmth
    you don’t always see.

    Even though
    we’ve never been
    in the same place,
    we have yet to meet
    face to face—
    and you’re oceans away,
    I still feel
    your presence with me.

    You’re the moon
    and I’m the tide,
    pushed and pulled
    by your ebb and flow.
    A moth to flame,
    dancing in your glow.


    If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]