The Theonor Ballad

"Theodore, why don't you read your poem next."
The teacher stepped to the side to give Theodore room.
"No, thanks." Theodore responded, hiding his face behind a book.
"You did write a poem?" Theodore's teacher assumed.

Theodore slowly showed his face. "Well, I did, but..."
"Well, come on. Let's hear it." He continued to persuade.
"Yeah, don't be shy." Eleanor urged along with him.
Theodore marched to the front, to show he wasn't afraid.

He looked over at the teacher and out to the class,
Then finally at his paper that shook in his hands.
Realizing what he had written, he groaned at his arrogance.
Reading it aloud to the class was not what he had planned.

He took a deep and cleansing breath.
It didn't help, but he gave it a chance.
He rose his paper to his face and spoke,
"My poem is titled At First Glance."

Theodore paused and looked over at his best friend.
Eleanor smiled and waved him on.
He once again looked at his paper.
"When I first saw her, it was a night foregone."

This is so embarrassing.
Theodore thought as his class listened intently.
"Since that moment I've thought of her from night until dawn.
It was strange, I was beginning to see things differently.

Every morning at school she would smile at me gently."
Theodore paused to breathe. He would never live this down.
He looked at his paper to read the next line.
He blushed in discomfiture, and looked to the ground.

"That's all I wrote." He folded his paper into his pocket.
Theodore took his seat and hid his face once more.
Eleanor sighed; she found it was obviously a lie.
The bell rang and the students rushed out the door.

Theodore was the quickest to get out of the room,
But Eleanor soon caught up to him.
"You're unbelievable." She chuckled.
Theodore remained silent as he gathered clothes for gym.

"That couldn't have been all you wrote."
Eleanor said with an eager smile.
"I'd love to hear the rest; I'm sure it's great.
I haven't heard poetry like that in awhile."

Theodore blushed. "Really, it's not that good."
"Come on, Teddy. I'm your best friend."
Eleanor flashed him the infamous puppy dog pout.
Theodore shook his head to contend.

Eleanor continued to pout,
he was about to give in
when his concentration was broken by the late bell.
Theo nearly jumped out of his skin.

"I'm sorry, Ellie, I have to go!"
Theodore called as he rushed down the hall.
Eleanor picked up a paper that fell to the ground.
She thought to call after him when she'd had seen it fall,

But curiosity got the best of her.
She walked off with it in hand.
She new it was wrong,
But she had to understand.

Why didn't he want her to read it?
Was there something wrong?
Maybe he was just shy,
But it didn't take her long

To make a decision
On whether to read it or not.
Meanwhile, in the gym
It was his poem Theodore sought.

He checked in his pockets,
In his gym bag, and under bleachers.
Searched down every hallway,
And checked with every teacher.

The poem was no where to be found.
He couldn't believe he lost it.
The last place to check was his locker.
Now he couldn't quit.

Eleanor approached him,
Her face guilt ridden
For even considering to read
The paper that was forbidden.

"Theodore, you dropped this."
She said handing him the sheet.
Theodore blushed and took it.
"Did you read it?" He looked at his feet.

Eleanor shook her head to show she did not.
Theodore breathed a sigh.
He'd never been so relieved.
"I should go home. I have new recipes to try."

Eleanor waved a goodbye
and turned to leave.
Theodore bit his lip
And rolled up his sleeve.

With all the confidence he mustered.
"Ellie, wait!" He jogged up the her side.
Eleanor stopped to faced him.
He slowly handed her the poem he tried to hide.

"But I thought..."
"Forget what I said."
Eleanor slowly accepted it,
But then eager read.

Theodore waited patiently.
The time ticked and tocked.
A smile appeared on Eleanor's face
before she finally talked.

"What made you write about me?"
Eleanor asked, feeling flattered.
"Because I like you."
Theodore shrugged, as if it didn't matter.

Eleanor smiled at this news.
Theodore smiled, just as glad.
That's the end of the ballad;
There's nothing left to add.

I was just trying my had at writing poetry. I haven't written a poem in over a year. I'm still a bit rusty. I hope it was okay! You tell me! REVIEW!