October Form Challenge: Haunted Ballad

Pig
bydemure101©

Lost on the sullen moors one rainy night
when on the air wild autumn wailed, my torch
and dog for comfort, I came down the hill
and chanced upon the bleakest place of all -
a circle in the bitter bracken, scorched
where once red blood had spouted from a wound,
the lonely spot where on a morning clear
mad Jeanie cut her wrists, not to be found
till one week later when her sweet young John
went fast across, in fearful mood, and vowed
that he'd be back ere nightfall. It was not
until the sun was high above the fields
that he came limping back, a frightened stare
in bulging eyes, and stammering of things
he'd seen that night. The village went to look
and found her where he'd said he'd been, and word
soon spread that he had done her wrong; the ghost
must have been waiting for him there. Since then
the scene, so full of noises, knows its mark:
a faint grey flame, a beacon in the dark
and as I saw it I turned back and ran -
it was no earthly person there that went
straight for my throat; nor was she wronged by John.
When that young fool was out one market day
I found her in, and had my will of her,
and she could just not take it in good jest
but tore her hair and raved of guilt and dread
and what would Johnny think - the bloody fool -
and took a knife and rushed out of the house.
I stood and saw her vanish down the moors
but to be found again with Johnny's aid -
I'll no more go there till her ghost is laid.

tis a wicked game ye play, not entirely amusing, perhaps a stint over a new poems, eh?

Clarification 1201 - I suggested that Pig would be good in ballad form. Demure has just taken my suggestion and modified Pig to do that - I think it works very well. I don't think there is any gaming going on here.
 
Clarification 1201 - I suggested that Pig would be good in ballad form. Demure has just taken my suggestion and modified Pig to do that - I think it works very well. I don't think there is any gaming going on here.
where a pig, there a pig
there's more on the moor
looks like a deconstruction/reconstruction
Demure101 is very good, this one almost frightens me
 
where a pig, there a pig
there's more on the moor
looks like a deconstruction/reconstruction
Demure101 is very good, this one almost frightens me

She definitely has the gift. I was not wild about "Pig," but I did feel if it were cut back some and had some space between sections it would have worked a lot better. And I see that Desejo's suggestion is moving it in that direction.

I'm no fan of the ballad form, but I may come up with something for this thread after all. We'll see...
 
Dawn of the Viper

It is a dark and stormless night,
a harvest moon looms in the sky,
dipping, closing in, a pale blind eye
and I alone, my love away, not a soul
in sight.

No succor from the radio, a fugue plays,
groans from distant church
and shadows crawl the walls, grey birch
skeletal and spare. Absence grows apace
and stays.

A ring shrills, then squalling wind. A pin
could jounce me jolting from my chair.
My fear is mirrored, panic in my stare,
for if I answer if and if, then what might I
let in?

"Hello I'm not . ." reproaches me,
my own words mocking as I halt
" . . at home." (Try not to think of grave or vault
or how the dark ticks tacitly, better let
it be.)

The voice is aged, tortuous, torn,
its forked tongue content to keep
its own course. Now I will not sleep
because the vagrant viper speaks: "I'll see you
at dawn
."

O lonely tread, O fretful floor,
chaotic measured beating of the wait,
and mounting expectation growing late
until unwelcome Sun comes knocking on
the door!

A golum of a man, crooked and low
bends to shroud a secret at his side
and tells me "Lady I got nothing here to hide,
just call me Sy. I'm the viper, come to vipe
your vindow
."
 
try not to think of grave or vault
or how the dark ticks tacitly, better let
it be.)

The voice is aged, tortuous, torn,
its forked tongue content to keep
its own course. Now I will not sleep
because the vagrant viper speaks
:

edible stuff, angeline!
 
Dawn of the Viper

: "I'll see you
at dawn
."

"Lady I got nothing here to hide,
just call me Sy. I'm the viper, come to vipe
your vindow
."
..
foul fowl chic ....old joke ....the prose was great! reminded me of the Bard or Anonomous what ever your take
 
The Ballad of Jack and Mable

When Jack arrived in early fall
He had no eyes; saw light in all.
Through the vines sent message around,
Another to share this hallowed ground.
Introduced himself from bloom to bloom,
Only one answered , with an eerie tune.

Mable sent songs of beauty and youth.
The vines were laden with wisdom and truth.
She wished they existed for more than a meal;
Hoped light and footmen and a carriage were real.
They used the connection of vines to converse;
Early October, she mentioned their curse.

Both our names mean we are destined for;
Serving others' dreams: there is nothing more.
Jack's for the lantern on someone's porch,
You may get a candle, why dream of a torch.
Mable's for the table, served in various dishes.
We both have dreams but forget about wishes.

Through mid October their thoughts were akin,
Jacks repetition of brightness within.
Mable continued with her inner voice;
We may have dreams, but we have no choice.
Our future will be snipped, by young and old.
We serve others Jack; their stories will be told .


Jack had hope, his dream still the same;
Through the vine Mable's voice came.
This time singing of hope for tomorrow.
I have dreams too, no time for sorrow;
Jack, my Love, we are in the rough;
Tell me that Love will be enough!.

He hoped all had heard Mable's song;
Maybe another felt they didn't belong.
She'd sang of a carriage that would take her away;
Wishing someone would listen and hear one day.
Outside a Chateau Mable declared;
Everyone's dreams are meant to be shared.

It was late October when the cutters arrived;
Vines were severed; their connection survived.
Destination unknown, beyond this patch,
Jack saw dreams they both could catch.
They still shared visions under skies so blue;
Vines being needless for dreams to come true.

Then Jack was set on top of a table,
His memory haunted by songs from Mable.
He'd heard her sing, but now he has eyes;
A gift received from the cutter's knives.
Jack looked left, then looked right,
Almost afraid of who may be right.

Mable's dream of a carriage, and footmen too,
Came to life, with a motley crew.
Saved from the table by a Fairy's wand;
Her wishes were transformed into dreams beyond.
She felt her shape begin to change,
Now she knew; Jack's dreams weren't so strange.

Cutters next gift for Jack was a nose;
Then a candle is placed, light grows and glows.
Artistic hands carved a smile so clear,
Giving him the dream he'd held near.
His wish came true ,his dream will stay;
Till All Saint's Eve, to light the way.

Last of October, Jack shines on a sill,
When along comes a carriage up the hill.
Overlooking the princess sitting within;
He only hears Mable, singing to him.
"I'll be back by midnight, not a minute past,
Wait for me, hope your candle will last.

Jack has heard Mable's voice;
Having a dream, creates a choice.
His inner light shines brighter than before;
He sings their truth, not clouded by lore.
"I will wait for you, our light will shine;
Together, forever, on dreams we'll dine.

At midnight a carriage, passes his porch,
Through the darkness a candle's as bright as a torch.
His light shines brighter when she's Mable again;
She is glowing with light, left from within.
Jack's eyes light up, smile widens too,
All wishes and dreams really can come true.

First of November; is a perfect day,
Love and belief have found their way.
Their spirits rise; together still,
No longer searching beyond the hill.
Inner light shines from both, for all;
Jack and Mable arrived in the fall.





Thank You PandoraGlitters for offering this October challenge.
I know this "ballad" still needs a lot of work but thanks to you I pushed myself to get better and step out of my comfort zone.


Happy Halloween!
 
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