This Little Piggy went Reading
#3 of the ballad of finchwood farm this is the third of four chapters in a sexy halloween epic based loosely of the big bad wolf and the three little pigs.
Forward unto Dawn
Our earth the catalyst, he was, always, took tools in living life, and put them into a ballad of play.
Little Riotous Joys
There was one song that stuck out, however… esmal asked, “do you know the gilean ballad ‘mother the sons are gone away to the fields’?”
Memorial Ballade for West
The bruise under my fingernail remains Now two months and a half, since you are gone. You grazed me, panicking beneath your pains, With fangs I’d forced your medicine beyond. I heal, it seems. It seems I must live on. How long until I can no...
Ballade on Leavetaking
I saw a hilltop, years ago Half-toppled with continuous gust, And every time that breeze would blow- This is not boring you, I trust- The grass reached up in wanderlust For where the wind and I would track. My shoes still smell of that...
Ballade of the Recently Dispossessed
I planted apple trees between the shadow of the pines I lit the lanterns, scrubbed the sun-starved windows of their scum For aye, this house was emptiness, and this home would be mine But promises are lies and jests when truth with autumn comes. ...
Haunted Ballade
#30 of poetry when i wrote it this was entitled "ballade of the walking dead" but that's a title that's gonna be culturally unavailable for a decade or so yet.
Beauty of the Beast, Chapter One
He laid down to sleep, tears still on his face, and sang to himself an old ballad that sean had taught him, it was in sean's native gaelic language.
Vigilance of the Versifier
Thankfully he was a skilled performer and his ballad faulted not once. he finished to a hearty round of applause and smiled to the patrons who were looking his way.
Lonely Night's Cry
Its sort of a half poem half song/ballad. i was playing minecraft and one of the songs came on. this is the result of me putting words to that music. its something similar to dragon lullaby: ode to the fallen dial.
The Wolves Are Always Walking
A short ballad about wolves.
The Cheshire Cat
The glint you glimpse may be the twilight sun Between the shadow trees, or on the lawn All unproportioned, where the wild winds run Grotesquely. Or it may be me, all gone. Beneath wide hedges, wider nothings yawn, And nothing's more nothing...