The theme of a ballad is limited only by your own imagination. The narrative can be as lively and diverse as you choose.
Thanks to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here’s part of a poem from Prasanta we enjoyed:
She threw her pearls like water, a chain of droplets
Stuck in a moment of time
Caught by the next passerby, the next wave of sunshine
The rhythm of a ballad lends itself to children’s poetry. This gives the poet a license to weave outrageous and sometimes funny stories within the rhyme. But, they’re not just for kids. A little nonsense is good for the child in all of us.
POETRY PROMPT: Within the framework of the four-line ballad stanza, write a silly poem a child might enjoy.
Here’s an example of a ballad that’s delightfully absurd:
Pumberly Pott’s Unpredictable Niece
Pumberly Pott’s unpredictable niece
declared with her usual zeal
that she would devour, by piece after piece,
her uncle’s new automobile.
She set to her task very early one morn
by consuming the whole carburetor;
then she swallowed the windshield, the headlights and horn,
and the steering wheel just a bit later.
She chomped on the doors, on the handles and locks,
on the valves and the pistons and rings;
on the air pump and fuel pump and spark plugs and shocks,
on the brakes and the axles and springs.
When her uncle arrived she was chewing a hash
made of leftover hoses and wires
(she’d just finished eating the clutch and the dash
and the steel-belted radial tires).
“Oh, what have you done to my auto, ” he cried,
“you strange unpredictable lass?”
“The thing won’t work, Uncle Pott, ” she replied,
and he wept, “It was just out of gas.”
—by Jack Prelutsky
Let’s see just how silly you can be. 🙂
Photo by Jenny Downing. Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Heather Eure.
________________________
Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!
Browse Writing Prompts
Browse Ballads
Browse more Poetry Teaching Resources
- Poetry Prompt: Misunderstood Lion - March 19, 2018
- Animate: Lions & Lambs Poetry Prompt - March 12, 2018
- Poetry Prompt: Behind the Velvet Rope - February 26, 2018
Maureen Doallas says
So glad to see a Pretlusky here. I read his poems to my only. Love his work!
Heather Eure says
Same here, Maureen. He was part of my kids introduction to poetry.
Marcy says
Mercy, that poem was a gas, not only did I enjoy it but laughed and smiled through it. Who in the world could top that?
Heather Eure says
Delighted that you enjoyed it, Marcy! If you have a chance, check out his other poems. Guaranteed to make you smile.
Marcy says
I added it to my favorite places, thanks so much, can’t wait to read them all.
Heather Eure says
Here’s a link for convenience. 🙂
http://jackprelutsky.com/jacks-poems/
Prasanta says
The Prelutsky piece was delightful!
Thank you for highlighting a few of my lines here today– a very sweet and pleasant surprise!
Heather Eure says
It was a lovely poem in its entirety. Glad you’re here.
Richard Maxson says
Prasanta, what a beautiful poem is Caroline!
Heather posted my favorite lines too.
Prasanta says
Richard, thank you so much. It was a pleasant surprise. I actually wasn’t too thrilled with my poem… I think it needs some work! But I thank you all for the encouragement!
Richard Maxson says
Here’s one strange and silly. Wish I could draw the characters.
http://theimaginedjay.com/?p=782
Heather Eure says
Wonderful, Richard! This is fun with plenteous metaphor. Thanks!
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
So wildly imaginative. I just love it. Such a departure from your other poetry. Seems a little Lewis Carroll or Dr. Seuss-y. Love it
Richard Maxson says
Thanks, Heather and Elizabeth.
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Prasanta, your lines are rich and lovely. So happy to see you here on a regular basis.
Heather, what an outrageously fun piece. I believe this marks my introduction to this particular poet. How delightful. Will look forward to more of his humor and rhyme.
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
The Parable of The Last Slice of Pie
The eighth slice sat alone on a metallic tin
Looking lost, like Eve’s apple, rather toxic
Fingers folded shut, no one wanted to be caught again
Sinking their teeth into such sugary delight would prove catastrophic.
For no one dares take the LAST slice
Not the hostess, guests, no one would eat the eighth
They’d been taught it wasn’t nice
Even if it was taken in good faith
In an effort to flatter the baker
Even if you happen to be the mayor
Cutting your pies in sixes or seven’s is nice
Anything but into eight
This solves the mystery of the final slice
Such mixed messages we seem to get
We’ve all been told to clean our plates
The moral seems to be murky at best here
Leave it and it may be eaten by one of these my dear:
Your waiter, a neighbor or a cruel dictator
From Jamaica or somewhere near the equator
A sailor, a player, or a day laborer
Who may save it for their seder
To eat on an ocean freighter
A tailor who’ll savor it in an amphitheater
Or perhaps a slippery fingered quaker
Or just forego all this crazy talk
And switch to vanilla ice cream
With hot chocolate sauce
Richard Maxson says
Very enjoyable, Elizabeth. An age old predicament.
But regarding eight pieces,
I’d be a good feller
and save the last for the mices,
that live in the cellar.
Elizabeth Marshall says
Richard, you may find this too curious to believe, but the computer ate my first poem, munched and crunched it right out of the comment box. So I began again. Origin version had the pie piece eaten by a trio or trespassing mice. I like yours even better. My memory is dulling. I had to start over and leave the poor mice out completely. Thanks for reading.
Richard Maxson says
I knew you would’ve put some wee mices in there. 🙂
That’s awful when we lose something we’ve created. Just today I received a new computer, because mine fried from a power surge or something. It was on a 250 kva backup power supply. I also ordered a 500 kva power supply with the new one. Now to see if my cloud recovery works. I hope you did not lose too much in the munch and crunch.