Ballad Meter – a line of iambic tetrameter followed by a line iambic triameter with an abab rhyme scheme
The door it creaks as it opens wide;
Come out, and leave, come out.
I hear him now, I see outside;
Behind you, peer, shout-out, he’s here.
He walks the halls, children forgot,
In derelict buildings;
His dogs’ follow him to the spot,
His company, their thriving.
He has a scruffy beard and bag;
His dogs trail him content,
He gathers the bottles, while all tails wag;
Maybe a treat is sent;
He’s a curious gruff man, he gives,
What he can, and his dogs,
Are family, for them he lives,
And he walks through the fog,
It’s his favourite time of day,
When the suns early in sky,
And he can hardly see through grey,
He’s so happy, alive.
And he’s giving little kisses,
To his valiant furry pets;
They return his love with wishes,
Of warmth, a place, no regrets;
This serene man just wants to live,
His day, let his dogs play,
Providing for canines, he shouts.
The walk is fin, away,
A gentleman of a harsh life;
Not alone, known by all here,
He is content, with strife;
Afflicted by poverty’s sear,
He is the man we all know well,
The one we’ll never know.
Not content for our disdain, well,
He leaves before it snows.