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In Haunting Notes..............My Ballad
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In Haunting Notes..............My Ballad |
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hoot_owl_rn Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750Glen Hope, PA USA 
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kind of cheated in this class as I had my poem written before the class started, but anyway, here's mine  In Haunting Notes It was a brisk November night When I rode into that town Feeling saddle sore and weary Looking only to bed down. My clothes were dark with trail dirt My chaps were wearing thin. The wind was blowing from the east And cutting to my skin. Every hoof fall kicked up dust Upon that darkened street. I hitched up next to the saloon To get a bite to eat. My boot heels struck upon the wood. Sounds echoed in the night. The streets were bare and silent, Not a single soul in sight. Soft orange light reflected out, Cast shadows on the ground And from the depths of that saloon I heard a haunting sound. A voice so soft and full of grace Was carried out to me; The tantalizing notes she sang, I simply had to see. I entered through the swinging doors And saw her standing there In dress of red and deep blue eyes Framed with auburn hair. She looked at me and flashed a smile That lit her entire face. I wondered what a girl like that Was doing in this place. I bellied right up to the bar, Then ordered up a drink. Captured in the spell she cast, I found it hard to think. Her eyes caught mine across the room; I couldn’t look away And when she finished her last song, She turned and came my way. “Hey cowboy, it looks like to me You’re lonely and bone tired And you should know, a girl like me Prefers to be admired. I got myself a room upstairs Here in this one horse town. I’ve got a bed just right for two. You’re welcome to bed down.” She smiled once more, I couldn’t speak; She reached to take my arm; Then led me to her room upstairs, I, spellbound by her charm. “Welcome to my home,” she said. She opened up the door. The room was dark, a single lamp Cast shadows on the floor. She led me to the bed and stood Before me in the night Slipped her clothes off, piece by piece, Outlined in dimming light. Each sensual curve was accented. She stood before me there. I reached to pull her towards me, Hands running through her hair. A chain of gold graced her fair neck From which a locket dangled. She climbed in bed, right next to me, Our bodies soon entangled. We loved and talked all through the night. I drifted off near dawn And in the early morning hours I woke to find her gone. Hazy light was filtered in Through a window marred with dust; Next to me, lay on the bed The locket dull with rust. I picked it up and opened it Where, much to my surprise, I found a picture old and worn That made me doubt my eyes. The picture was in black and white. It bore the test of time. The face, though, that it held within Was no one else but mine. I had to find her, had to know What this was all about. I threw my clothes on in a rush And from the room ran out. I took the steps two at a time. I had to find that girl. But what I saw as I looked down Caused my head to swirl. The saloon lay still and empty. Silence filled the air. Old broken bottles packed the bar Not a soul was there. Tables and chairs were brown with rot. Dust coated all with white. But what I saw when I looked down Was the most unnerving sight. The floor lay thick encased in sand That had blown in through the door Disturbed by just my set of prints Where ‘we’d’ walked the night before. I ran outside to only find The town stood in decay. I jumped onto my waiting horse And quickly rode away. Years have passed, since that cold night In that forgotten town. Now on my stand, the locket rests. Some nights I take it down. I open it to see my face, A picture from the past. I’ve questions I can’t answer and There’s no one that I can ask. Sometimes at night, she calls to me From somewhere in my dreams And I’m forced to remind myself All’s never what it seems. So cowboy if you find yourself On the trail some cold , dark night And run into a quiet town Where something seems not right. Beware the girl with auburn hair And mesmerizing voice; Just saddle up and ride away While you still have a choice. She haunts the town, still in search of A love lost long ago And once you’re captured in her spell She will not let you go. Best mark my words, I see her face Bathed in that dim light Where in my dreams, she haunts me still Every single night. To love means never to be afraid of the windstorms of life: should you shield the canyons from the windstorms you would never see the true beauty of their carvings. ~Elizabeth Kubler-Ross |
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| © Copyright 2000 Ruth Kephart - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sudhir Iyer Member Ascendant
since 2000-04-26
Posts 6943Mumbai, India : now in Belgium |
Ruth, My command over this form of writing being minimal almost naught, I refrain from making any critique at all. In fact I wrote my first ever ballad and posted it for the workshop. I hope that I can learn from it... But I can admit this for sure, I liked reading the poem very much... It was a most enjoyable tale, well spun, beautifully crafted too... Lets see what the experts say... regards, Sudhir |
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toes21 Junior Member
since 2000-07-09
Posts 24 |
Cute and well said is your poem, it was a pleasure to have read it cowboy. |
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Not A Poet Member Elite
since 1999-11-03
Posts 3885Oklahoma, USA |
Well done, "cowboy". A fascinating and haunting tale with just enough undertones to keep anyone's interest. Hmmmm, I wonder if Nan will still let me sign up for this session. This is a darn good inspiration. Thanks, Pete |
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hoot_owl_rn Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750Glen Hope, PA USA |
Thanks Sudhair and Toes...but I don't think my syllable count is to par in this one Oh Pete...to have inspired you puts a smile on my face...please do join in [This message has been edited by hoot_owl_rn (edited 07-11-2000).] |
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Ted Reynolds Member
since 1999-12-15
Posts 331 |
Your syllable count may have been a little off, but once a reader gets into the mood of it, who's counting syllables, huh? Well done, I might dream this one tonight. |
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hoot_owl_rn Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750Glen Hope, PA USA |
Thank you Ted |
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Nan
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-20
Posts 21191Cape Cod Massachusetts USA |
Hey Hoot... This is intriguing... While you've taken some license with your format (not an uncommon happenstance with seasoned poets), your theme is wonderfully exemplary of what a true ballad is all about. You've taken your reader on a great ride - and your poem is so lyrical, we can all envision singing it as we ride the stage into town... I really like this - and it's nice to see you cruising through..  |
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hoot_owl_rn Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750Glen Hope, PA USA |
Thanks Nan and it's great to make an appearance here now and then as I miss my friends here deeply |
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Munda Member Elite
since 1999-10-08
Posts 3544The Hague, The Netherlands |
Hi Ruth....great to see you in the Workshop agai.  This is amazing ! Is it a ballad ? LOL Heck, I have no idea anymore.....I guess I read too much.  |
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hoot_owl_rn Member Patricius
since 1999-07-05
Posts 10750Glen Hope, PA USA |
LOL Munda...your guess is as good as mine. I guess it's my own variation of a ballad |
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