Sunday Sesh: The Longing (A Love Ballad)

The Longing is what I call a travel ballad and a love ballad. It is a simple narrative in the form of a lyrical poem however, it actually runs quite deeply through my veins. The Longing touches on an important part of ‘love’: a sense of longing. The longing can be embraced or ignored in any relationship and it depends how mature your heart is if you can control it or not. My heart feels quite mature now but sometimes I still let myself go in to a hypnagogic sleeping state, or rather, the in-between sleep and awake world, just to feel the longing because it is the longing that evokes passion of the heart which can then be expressed through creativity. So, open your heart, read this ballad slowly, line by line, the way you would eat a packet of MnMs one by one, and feel the rhythm of your heart.

The Longing

She had dirty toenails

He had shiny hair

She would go emotionally

Where others wouldn’t dare


He preferred the sunshine

And she liked the rain

Pouring on her face

And flooding along her veins


Then one day he saw her

She had shiny hair

She’d even cleaned her toenails

He couldn’t help but stare


He asked her where’d she been

She said I’ve been away

He said you’ve been right here

She said sorry I cannot stay


She knew he was strong

But he knew she was stronger

He didn’t know if he could

Miss her any longer


She was still away

Sailing the waves of her art

While his boat was docked

In the place close to her heart


He always thought himself a sailor

Now he thought himself a bum

Busking on the streets

Of unrequited love


He lingered by the docks

Drank till the bottle was empty

Then he stuffed it with a message

And tossed the bottle out to sea


The wind started blowin’

And knotting up his hair

He even grew a beard

And rambled about how life was so unfair


She set sail home

To the docks she knew best

She moored her boat on the wharf

Where the bum had since lay to rest


Sometime in the morning

She woke and rolled in the sand

She looked towards her right

Because she’d felt something in her hand


There it was, the bottle

Scuffed but still in tact

She popped the lid and read the note

And felt her whole heart crack


She picked up the bottle

And threw it out to sea

For she had realised

It belonged to them you see


So now if you see a bottle

Bobbing in the sea

Be sure to pop the lid

And set the lovers free


Tracie Pascoe-Lark