A ballad.
Christiana Adwoa Adomako-Ansah

The old wife to the young lover

Oh, that you come again today
To take away the flame.
The good man's gone away to hunt,
Today won't be the same.

You need to take the stress away
Please light your crisp cigar.
Sit down and don't be scared my love,
Come play on his guitar.

Unwind me with your tunes so fine.
Come make my heart go gay
And I your lady will rejoice.
Don't stop my love please play.
For when the good man's back at home,
I shall not see your smiles
And then his tales will make me bored
And I'll make silent cries.

But when he's gone, hay we will make,
For true the sun does shine,
On me his lovely old guitar.
Forever I'll be thine.

The Good man to the town gossip

I've heard stories of a man who plays
The old guitar at home.
That when I leave to hunt and kill,
He makes my home his own.

They say he takes her stress away
And smokes his crisp cigar.
Sits in the old chair bought by me
And plays my old guitar.

They say the tunes that he thus plays,
Cause her to scream for more.
For I could not make her rejoice,
But only make her bored.

For when, by grace, I'm back at home,
She stiffens like a piece of wood
And sure I'll tell her all the tales,
That are all pretty good.

But then alas I'll go again
To hunt and kill the wild,
And yes my lovely old guitar
He'll come to play with style.

The Lover to the old wife

My dear I knew I had to come
To take away the flame.
The good man sure has gone to hunt
Yes you won’t feel the same.

Your stress and cares I'll take away.
I've lit my crisp cigar.
I scare no more, tis you I please.
I'll play this old guitar.

My tunes so fine thus would unwind
And make your heart so gay.
You'll scream for more, my tunes so pure,
'Don't stop till late', you'll say.

For when the good man's back at home
Your smiles will all be gone,
Because he'll talk continuously
Of feats that he had won.

But while he's gone, hay we will make
For true the sun does shine,
On you his lovely old guitar,
Forever, you'll be mine.

Christiana Adwoa Adomako-Ansah