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A Crumby Ballade

A ballade (not to be confused with ballad) is a style of poetry with a very certain prescribed structure.

The cookie commands and I must obey
And dutifully lift to my lips
This crumby creation that I only pray
Does not find its way to my hips.
Walnuts and oatmeal, raisins, and chips
My bread is all spent on the dough
The seam of my pants stresses then rips
Cookie bombs bursting below.

A zombie arising, at break of the day
A cup full of milk for the dips
Of every last cookie I find on the tray
I drown them in burbles and blips
Until no more bubbles ascend on their trips
My mug is a cookie death-row
With fingers quite frozen right down to their tips
It’s time to be quenched in the flow

Of milk swishing sweetness, I swallow, I sway
My heart, like a spatula, flips;
An Oreo parts in a creamy filet
Departs in a flurry of nips.
I dream of Nabisco’s full fleet of ships
Burdened, and riding so low
On seas made of milk, an iceberg just clips
And I’m there to slurp it up slow.

I’m strung out on cookies, I’ve come now to grips
If, someday, to Hell I must go,
I’ll stand by the fire that dances and whips
And bake chocolate chips in the glow.

Picture of Wes Stephenson

Wes Stephenson

Author, motorcyclist, poet, and adventurer. Let's journey together.

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