These Work Ballad poems are examples of Ballad poems about Work. These are the best examples of Work Ballad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Springs around the corner
what wondrous things we'll see,
bulbs popping up above the ground
giving joy to you and me,
time to tidy up our plot, lots of digging too,
weeds to pull, beds to hoe
lots of things will have to go.
You have to be a little brave
if that rose you want to save,
but you will learn that over time
you've got to be cruel, just to be kind,
The flower beds need a tidy
take all that dead stuff off the top,
veg plots being well dug over
hoping for a bumper crop.
Seeds to sow, hope they'll grow !
then the lawn will need a mow.
And when all the hard work is done
you can sit back and be pleased,
wind , rain and sun you have grown all you need.
Baa Baa Black Sheep
We don't want your wool.
Please sir, Please sir,
I have three bags full.
You are too old.
You are out of date.
But I work hard,
And I'm never late.
You don't have the
Look we're looking for.
That's no reason to
Boot me out the door.
We want new skills
For this vocation.
But I have twice
You have too much
But they have none!
They don't even know how!
Baa Baa Black sheep,
We don't want your wool.
I've been played the fool.
When he emigrated to North Dakota
Daddy came to help fill needed quota
Of young, strong men of honest worth
For untamed land at its new birth.
He met my mother, strong as he,
Raised seven kids including me.
He broke wild mustangs to the halter
And from cold or heat would never falter.
The settlers in this brand new land
Weren’t looking for the wild cow-hand,
The drifter who’d collect his pay,
Then casually be on his way.
Some would then join an outlaw band,
Before the law came to the land.
Though their kind earned infamous glory,
Men like my dad were the real story.
North Dakota had only been a state,
Ten years when Daddy tested fate.
He left Eastern standards and aesthetics,
Armed only with his strong work ethics.
He and his kind would build the schools,
And churches and towns and follow rules.
It took big men to build the west.
I claim my dad one of the best.
He homesteaded in nineteen hundred one
And that is how the west was won.
Oh,what a hectic month
Oh what a month it’s been
Two lots of relies came
Over from the old country
It’s been a frantic game
I’m not used to all this stuff
But I’m glad it all took place
Although it was real hectic
No frown did crease my face.
One trip to Margaret River
Wow! This, it was a blast
We toured those rich surroundings
Till we went home at last
Then the darned flue knocked me down
And I spent some time in bed
And then I put my back out
As I banged my bloody head.
It seemed that I was on the mend
But my computer shat itself
I lost both poems, and photos
They’re the sum of all my wealth
Thank God I got the poems back
Alas, but not the photos
I guess I lost them, all of them
But this is how it goes
It’s been some heavy karma
That’s all that I can say
But now that it’s all over
I feel real fine today
So it’s back to meditation
And working on my soul
It’s time to get some relaxation
And once more feeling whole
23 October 2013 @1450hrs.
Hey, how are you
Have you heard this one?
Where there’s a midnight sun
Listen to me now,
Listen up young one
One day I left someone
Where did you say
you were going?
She looked so sad
with her tears showing
showing her a map of you,
around the world to you,
flying so fast at you,
I left my Papua New Guinea,
my home sweet home for you.
So... like déjàvu,
You look so...
Do I know you?
No, don't say no...
I know you!
you were in my dreams
You know that moment,
when you see her,
that lifts you high
into outer space so high
oh how I longed for you,
Just you and me,
your seasons, my wonder..
I wonder when thunders,
remind my mind,
my sleeping child,
But Nova's away..
They say people say,
you'd miss home,
you'll miss POM..
you said no,
No, No, No
you'll be home
From winter to Autumn
Just you and I
you'll be fine
So when the leaves fall,
Or when snow falls,
Our time, may be dying,
Maybe someday I'll find,
My child no child,
and the sun so fine,
I'll be home bound,
To my Ocean playground..
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound on my drumes i like to pound.
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound i think it has a very cool sound.
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound i would love to here it going around.
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound don't let it turn your smile into a frown.
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound here there where ever i am found in the sky or on the ground.
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound i am so glad JESUS CHRIST i have found. Bubba bubba bound Bubba bound and heaven someday i am bound.
Buba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound.
On the outer Paroo where most septics are few
And the outhouse has still pride of place;
Poor old Toby McPhee worked a small property
With his son and his darling wife Grace.
When the milking was due and the harvesting too,
His son Fred seemed to just disappear.
Though they looked everywhere this bewildered old pair
Found no trace of their poor little dear.
I've the paddock to plough and I need the boy now
As the horses are harnessed and ready.
Then he saw the smoke rise and to Toby's surprise;
'Twas the outhouse that hid his young Freddy.
"So the silly young bloke seems to fancy a smoke.
Well I've just the right cure then for him."
As he led the horse team Toby's eyes gave a gleam
And the lazy lad’s future looked dim.
He then hooked the team to the log skids on the loo,
While the slack was worked out of the chain.
With the reins in his hand he then gave the command
And both horses then took up the strain.
Poor young Fred he was perched on the seat when it lurched,
Though soon ended up down on the floor.
With Fred's pants 'round his knees Toby heard his wild pleas,
But he goaded his horses some more.
The lad's fag hit the pan and a fire soon began
With the paper and sawdust alight.
Then the skids hit a hollow and what was to follow
Was one hell of a horrible sight. That pan flew in the air and though Fred crouched in
All the angels they must have been out.
For the team in a trot had sent airborne the lot
And the contents were scattered about.
Toby's lungs out of air he then reined in the pair
And the curing had come to a close.
Fred emerged from the door looking terribly sore,
While the pong was quite strong on the nose.
When there's work now to do on the outer Paroo
Our young Fred McPhee's work is hectic.
For he saves all his dough, but it's not for smokes though,
As their place is now going septic.
As I was washing the dishes last week
I looked outside my windowpane.
Snow-filled land and winter bleak,
I see a moose—how inane!
Thinking I must be going insane,
Or perhaps something of a retard,
I asked many but the answer was the same
Please get the moose out of my yard
One day within that crazy week
My husband was working in the plains
He went to a bush to take a leak
And there, staring, it was again!
He ran through the village through gasps of fright he just couldn’t retain
Now my hubbie is a lunatic, paranoid and scarred
With no fortune to his name!
Please get the moose out of my yard
Living here with seven babes on a meadow leek
Trying to keep sane
All the neighbors think me a freak
As I try to reassure and explain
And STILL the blasted animal remains
Keeping me absorbedly on-guard
He even trampled my great dane into grain!
Please get the moose out of my yard
Dear Prince, soon King so to speak
I beseech you with utmost regard
If it so pleases I will throw you a daughter for queen
Just please—PLEASE get the moose out of my yard!
This world is getting tougher to survive everyday.
The cost of living is more than my pay.
It's going to get worse that's what the old folks say.
The bad times are here and here to stay.
Just look at the shape of the U.S.A.
we're afraid to let our children go out and play.
Maybe we all need to get on uor knees and pray.
Jobs are getting harder and harder to find.
What I own ain't worth a dime.
Inflation is up and so is crime.
Alot of real good people are in a bind.
Can't even get care when your in your prime.
Most everyone you know have fallen on hard time.
I can't help them out when i'm worried about saving mine.
Career politicians keep sucking us dry.
They tax everything we own and anything we buy.
Most of us blue collars will work till the day we die.
While the rich skate through life and don't have to try.
We all have to stop living this goverment lie.
It's about time we let that eagle fly.
Remember who made this country, it was you and I.
We the people can bring her back, and put this nation back on track.
We made her strong and that's a fact, and
Noone will ever be able to take away that.
This vain wish to live longer, somewhere,
makes me struggle with my vulnerability
of having been born with the fear of dying...
and before that is accomplished: let me live!
I've been told, " It's not possible that time can freeze youth indefinitely,"
but that intricate illusion was too persistent and real;
this boy always believed it would have never faded...
now being sorrowful and old, I realize how untrue and contrived it was!
Be convivial and consume your time wisely,
don't hold the conviction that over-the-hill is the end;
you've gathered all the knowledge to survive another year,
and on your calendar mark every birthday and celebrate...
I will do the same believing that I'd continue walking in eternity
as when youth froze time to contradict an undeserved fate
without connoting wrong, but being congrous and fair...
oh, youth your concession has compensated me for that loss!
I should be miserable as anybody else...lamenting and lashing,
but what good it would do if not harm me and shorten these days?
I enjoy every moment that life gives me...being hopeful for more to come;
others cuss, slander and end life demolishing all they had built in their past!
I denote my achievements as milestones that everyone will remember,
and certainly I'll be sought after for the secrets my words will unfold;
and their purpose and extent are very conceivable to the scholar and reader...
not deploring the naive idea that time can freeze youth indefinitely.