I want to post some poetry, so that’s what I will do
And even though it’s not my thing, we’ll somehow suffer through
Explainers are my strong suit, so explainer this will be
(I’d like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony)

It doesn’t take a genius to develop lines like these
I spill them on the page – though I’m unpracticed – quite with ease
It’s not that hard to visualize, your ear can hear it plain
(Oh beautiful, for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain)

This rhythm is called “ballad meter”, scanned in pairs of lines
Its feet iambic – four, then three – and end the three with rhymes
The meter can be flexible, when read at quite the clip:
(Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip)

It might recall Shel Silverstein’s irreverent works for children
Or patriotic reveries, the kind a flag’s unfurled in
A dash elicits Dickinson—or worse, ChatGPT
(Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me)

Its ancestor – that’s common meter – adds another catch
You need to rhyme the fourfold feeter; both lines have to match
Found in hymnals way back when, where still it’s used today
(God rest ye merry, gentlemen. Let nothing you dismay)

The Scottish Psalter (1650) used it quite a lot
Of all its hundred fifty pieces, only one did not
Though several had alternatives, perhaps more artfully
(Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me)

But ballad meter’s down to earth, because it’s less restrictive
Instead of God all merciful, it’s lovers all vindictive
It’s blues or rock or country songs, or combos of all three
(I’m going to Alabama with a banjo on my knee)

And even modern music makers use it now and then
It’s not just for those poets who still used a fountain pen
Tortured though the lines may be, you still can hear them sing
(Hello, hello, baby, you called? I can’t hear a thing)

You may get sick of ballad meter hearing it so much
This poem’s really a “fourteener” – longer lines and such
But with its common use comes gladness of another kind
(Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?)

Because of its ubiquity, for humor try a swap!
Sing “Auld Lang Syne” to “Pokémon”, turn poems into pop
Record it for the internet, or do it just because
(I want to be the very best, like no one ever was)

I think this post was ill-advised; TV Tropes did it better
At least we’ve seen how far we all can take this bit together
So if this poem bored you, then be glad it’s almost done
(There is a house in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun)

And say hurrah to ballad meter! Ever may it live!
For glad we are it’s come this far with still so much to give
And English verse would quite be worse without this beat to share
(In joyful strains then let us sing, advance Australia fair!)

Coming soon: Were the Space Shuttle’s boosters really the size of two horse butts?

(Thank you for indulging me.)