A short narrative poem with stanzas of two or four lines and usually a refrain. The story of a ballad can originate from a wide range of subject matter but most frequently deals with folk-lore or popular legends.
They are written in straight-forward verse, seldom with detail, but always with graphic simplicity and force. Most ballads are suitable for singing and, while sometimes varied in practice, are generally written in ballad meter, i.e., alternating lines of iambic tetrameter and iambic trimeter, with the last words of the second and fourth lines rhyming.
Part of a composite poem called
When cancer took my mom away
I wished it had been me.
Yet Johnnie's pain was just the same,
that anyone could see.
I took the emo route and thought
I'd maybe end my life.
Then Johnny took up guiding reins
no longer held by wife.
He brought me back from self-abuse
and stopped me being wild.
He gave me strength and sound advice
a mother gives her child.
He told me my virginity
was not for common guys;
it was a one-time gift to give
to true love as a prize.
"To honor your mom, succeed now
and in your coming life."
He cared for me relentlessly
while having now no wife.
My love for Jonny, grew with me,
(for I'd begun to bloom.)
I fantasized about my "dad"
when lonely in my room.
He was a "hunk" my girl-friends thought.
I'd always shared that view.
Two hundred pounds of sculptured male
and standing six-foot-two.
My want was such I had to touch
his beauty every day.
I'd accidently show down blouse
and make my cute butt sway.
And when I'd sit upon his lap
before "goodnights" were said,
I'd feel him grow and I would know,
what he would do in bed.
Then one warm summer day instead
of sitting I just rode
his leg. It was spontaneous
and caused me to explode.
His want was clear, but one lone tear
I saw roll down his face.
He thought accepting offered gift
would be his life's disgrace.
We talked and hugged and he held
me closely while he said,
"My sweetheart Ann, when you're eight-teen
I think that we should wed.
© Lawrencealot - November 10, 2012