Ballad: Bailey’s Son

Galavanting down the stairs in white,
The toll bell’s ringing- bride has arrived;
Bedecked in jewels from head to toe,
The lady in white with her train in tow.

The crowd goes ooh and the crowd goes ah,
Their perfect prince had found a wife;
The single maidens envy the bride,
While the streets of Bailey, rejoice and dance.

The priest stood waiting on the altar stand,
The bride’s eyes searching her beloved’s whereabout;
Silence drowning the energy and high,
A groom gone missing- cause for alarm.

Found laying still in a brothel house,
The Perfect groom with a secret life;
An image misconstrued on views and lies,
Prince charming departs not in the arm of his bride.

And years went by, and the bride moved on;
The town stood still for a while, distraught;
The envious envied the bride no more-
And Bailey learnt prefect was but a relative term.

Day 21 of October Poetry Writing  month. I’m trying to catchup on the prompts I missed. Today’s poetry type is Ballad. Just click on the word for more details on balladic style.

IMAGE CREDIT: getjaam.wordpress.com

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