Submit a Poem
Get Your Premium Membership
spacer

Adventure Ballad Poems | Ballad Poems About Adventure

These Adventure Ballad poems are examples of Ballad poems about Adventure. These are the best examples of Adventure Ballad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

12345
Details | Ballad |

Bloom Not, Wolfsbane

Bloom not, cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind 

The girl was luscious in the wake
Rising at break of dawn
If only she knew I was a mistake
Before we made the bond

I grew fond of her everyday
And night gave me loathe and dread
My heart was weak, I couldn’t send her away
But fed in her desires instead

I kissed her in the forest of green
I had forgotten what I am
I gazed into those eyes, so keen!
A smooth and gentle lamb

 
One day I stopped to think a bit
My stomach wrenched and twirled
Through love I had lost my sense and wit
To a pitiful village girl!

Avoiding her best I could
I hid from beauty’s caresses
But again she found me in the wood
And so grew the obsession

But so grew the moon
And the waning was abstaining
Good night, wonders of the noon
With memories remaining

Alone I wandered in the cold
Knowing it was coming
The sky grew dark, the sun was sold
Behind the madness blooming 

Transforming! Changing!
My mind went all a blur
Rage deforming! Madness deranging!
I couldn’t think of her…  

The time was gone!
The night had come!
I thought I was alone
But then I saw her standing there
Pale and stiff as stone

I woke up that dawn sitting there
On the forest floor
And there lay she all bloodied and bare
The lamb that I adore!

The wounds I found were like a gift
I know they were from my girl
I’m glad she fought her will to live
As I blindly devoured her

An honorable lamb with bloodied hooves
She’ll never leave my vision
Sacrificed for ravenous wolves  
And no cry for jurisdiction 

 Bloom not cruel wolfsbane
In this forward spirit of mine
Let the moon dim and wane
For love has diseased my kind 

-an oldie , hehe
For Pd's Contest : )



Details | Ballad |

I am he as you are me

When the night wind changes course
sending breezes from the north,
when farmer's fields lie brown and fallow
and empty ropes swing from the gallows,
when children's faces are drawn and gaunt
and earth-bound spirits wail and haunt,
when eagles scan the barren snow
and field mice shiver deep below,

The dragon stirs deep in his lair,
the townfolk sense him with despair,
the mountain rumbles as he wakes,
he spreads his wings, the valley quakes.

He snorts and breathes a sulphur fire
and eyes his cache with dark desire,
gold and gemstones line his cave,
a sea of diamonds with emerald waves.

The trees are black against the snow,
one warrior stands to face his foe,
chain mail clanking, his sword is honed,
he goes to face his fate alone.

Fire breathing, wing-spread vast,
the warrior is at first aghast,
the dragon's chest and stomach, too,
shine with gems of multi-hues.

He'd slept so long upon his loot,
he wore a jewel-encrusted suit.
He saw the warrior's weapon glint
and chuckled at this innocent.

The dragon swooped and breathed his breath,
the warrior smelled the scent of death.
Many times the dragon dove
and set aflame the fields and groves.

Lost in this game, he gave no thought
to the warrior who mattered naught,
and as the dragon flew by low
the warrior drew his mighty bow.

The bow and arrows were Elfen-hewn,
inscribed with words in ancient runes.
The warrior held his breath and aimed
and steeled himself against the flames.

The dragon saw the arrow cocked
and turned his head, their eyes were locked.
The arrow's flight was straight and true,
into the dragon's eye it flew.

The warrior was elected king,
he wore fine jewels and heavy rings,
but though he tried, he found no peace,
he'd formed some strange bond with the beast.

The corpse was plucked clean of its jewels
and all the people danced like fools,
though he was king of hill and glen,
they never saw him smile again.


Details | Ballad |

Door o' Green

 
Door o’ green The door of green it stands ajar, I enter here in a dream, so far, A rough hewn table, here it sits, Big yellow candle splutters its, An ancient room, of meditation ….. As I look about the ancient room, A figure seen within the gloom, Svelte of body, bosoms loom, The sweetness of creation, She comes to me with loving eyes, No words are needed, sobs or sighs, And pressing close, and locked of eye, I hold this incarntation, The sudden chill of nipple freeze, The points are made with subtle ease, What can I do but play on these, No words of explanation? Moving closer within her thighs, I trace her form, though things do rise, Her bosoms rise, in breath caught size, Inpaled by the situation, I try to leave, she says don’t go, The fire is burning me, you know, Till passions fire has had to blow, Exhaustion’s generation, The magic place behind the door, Where love does wait for me and more, Fantasy says, yes me explore, A mental apparition…. Don Johnson


Details | Ballade |

Sossled

Sossled I wandered as lonely as a dog, Me pantaloons were full of frogs Slurping suds while on the grog, Dog paddling with the ducks, I thought I knew her lovely face, Got cuddling with Aunty Grace mascara was every place, me swimming togs got stuck, a rooster crowed up in the church, cuckoo clock was in reverse, I could think of nothing worse, When incest, comes a riding?
18-sep-11 Nancy Jones Contest Name Make me Laugh


Details | Ballad |

Love Story Gone Wild

when beauty met the beast
she was a cutie, he was a beast
she thought that she'd speak to him at least
and at least find out what made 
a beast, a beast

as the beast looked at her 
he wondered; what a feast
but the way she spoke to him
was gentle and curiosity increased

he found her some what pleasant
and laid his aggression aside
for now he'd grown accustom
and hoped she would abide

as time past he looked at her
as he never did before
tender conversations
brought his knees to the floor

she'd become his weakness
his task forever more
he liked to hear her voice
and see her walk through the door

on holidays there were presents
on birthdays a feast
each special day that brought her presence
was a holy day to say the least

now i am wholly human 
and i can tell you well
that jealousy fits us humans
and beast very well

one look at competition
can take us all to hell
we can never avoid perdition
when one other than God
we our souls sell

and from God comes the testing
old men and prophets tell
the beast asked God for patience
and God knows how to teach it well

the next time the beast see's beauty
there is a ring on her hand
he didn't care to mention it
but that was one thing he couldn't stand

worn down he ask her
what the ring meant on her hand
slowly she confided, it meant she'd
marry another man

the beast now was furious
he did not understand
that all these years confiding
he was suppose to be the man

what then would become of her
his conscious did demand
all the years he spent with her
were coming to an end 

yet love had one more service
his heart would command
tell the maid he loved her
and ask her for her hand

let all the powers of wickedness 
and goodness take their stand
upon this maids answer
i'll bravely take my chance


Details | Ballad |

Signing Off

--Goodbye--To my Addiction-

The time has come to part,
I will leave many with broken hearts
If one day you call on me,
I'm sad to say I will hold my tongue missing each one relentlessly 
I'm not doing this for me; I am doing this for you
I could stay here and win, and not give in 
But, this soup bowl comes with demons and nasty shadows
Demons and nasty shadows, taking and crashing my light
Demons I had to fight off the entire time I was here
Shadows hating the way I welcomed every poet with a happy cheer
Demons and shadows whom drown in their selfish everyday pity.

For those smiling on my departure, 
I want you to have this wonderful gift 
So please copy paste this moment from the bottom of my heart
**I hope this gift brings you laughter, knowing 
I've been sad, these past few days, drying up my final soup tears**

I will miss this part of what makes me ME -my love and lust for poetry.
I agree with many I should never surrender to the envy of demonic dust
Giving up the passion that completed a part of my soul for years
But, the reality of life, is the life's I give and given when I make love happen
In my heart I know it's time to give myself back to reality
SO AT THE END I WIN, I'm the one who ends up with an everlasting smile
I'll finally be free from this place, where most treated me unfair & unkind
Free, from the negativity of the few who hide behind a dishonest disguise?

Wait until you notice your soup bowl's going stale
You will miss me, and I will miss you
But, my enemy will miss me even more
Reminiscing the times we spent hogging up 70% of blogs,
Arguing and fighting over not agreeing with many thoughts.
But, it was never the differences of opinions, it was more like---
Let's slay the Destroyer, a name like that should never be on top
So please know I am sad, and this is not the way I want to go
I'm not leaving you because I want to 
I'm leaving you because, the rumors are 
"The soup is better without the sweetness of the poet destroyer."
The only big thing about me -was my heart not my ego 
I never claimed to be the best; 
You're the one who claimed I am good enough
You took me in and returned my love
In ways others could and would not accept.
And for you my loving poet friends, and fans
I will walk away with my dignity/integrity; 
I can CARELESS IF I PLACE OR DON'T PLACE IN YOUR CONTEST
I guess I'm finally growing up 
In becoming the bigger/better poet.

Signing Off ---Love 
The Poet Destroyer


Details | Ballade |

Being you

Being you

Accept yourself
That’s all that I can say
Let your inner voice tell you
The way to live your day
Do not be hard upon yourself
That never did no good
Just be happy, never worry
It’s foolish that one should.

Love yourself
Cause you’re a ‘one off’ too
No one else can play your part
Nobody can be you
It’s a lovely world we live in
Let it seep into your soul
Then when you feel at one with life
Twill get you feeling whole.

Most people call me crazy
But I love being me
I do not care what others think
I only like to be
To be this way, it is my right
A gift sent down by fate
I’m so I’m happy being me
Each day to me is great.

14 August 2013 @ 1410hrs.



Details | Ballad |

Big

Big n hard well babe its been big n hard, the dumb retard? wants planting in pleasures planting pot, or bring some stole viagra, just in case its not:) get a keeper maybe should, enhance his mood, stiff as wood, the blood flow enterprising, could be bloody mystifying, as any phallus should, yet babe im shagged, deflated bags, me ball bags teste-fying, get back you baitch, can’t have an inch, bo-didly aint supplying… Don Johnson


Details | Ballad |

Dullahan Rides

Walk with me in the dank moonlight
through the chill, rising, storm
so we can grasp the majesty
of Dullahan still born.

Without heads his horse and he ride
across the countryside
His head in hand they roam the land
none live where he abides.

A rush of blood, a gory spree 
will take the sight of man, 
then off they gallop wild and free
Dullahan, head in hand.

Here’s hoping he don’t call your name
for that would be worse by far  
your soul would flee and fly with he
a soul as black as tar.

Carry your gold for I am told 
this alone does he fear
and we can watch as he rides by
come give us a kiss now, me dear.

The winsome lass took his strong hand
and down the lane they walked
as in the distance hedgerows fired
and hooves clapped as they talked.

The sound drew near, a gate flew wide
the lassie shrieked and ran 
so only her randy lad was 
taken by Dullahan.

So, don’t think to woo by moonlight
near the shore in Galway
Dullahan hunts with cruel sight 
each wayward soul a stray.

*While no-one knows for certain how the Dullahan originated, it is thought that he is the embodiment of the Celtic fertility god, Crom Dubh, who was worshiped by an ancient king of Ireland, Tighermas. Each year, Tighermas sacrificed humans to Crom Dubh, and the usual method was decapitation. The worship of Crom Dubh ended in the sixth century, when Christianity came to Ireland. 
* music in About the Poem

Poet: D. Guzzi


Details | Ballad |

Pain

of suffering deep, tween pain and asleep, and the curse still lingers like crime, a fiendish mind wheels, still turning out deals, and slip-sliding thoughts to begrime, get back in your box, un-sweet albatross, begone to the nethers of mind, bad voices are still, mourning their loss, in spirit i'm doing just fine, got a grip on its throat, never mind, bad thoughts continue to gloat, yet the battle is mine, bloody mine... of: p.d. "Cronic Pain" Don


12345