It all started when my friend Aubrey came to me and said, "Write me a poem."
"What about?" I asked. (Not that I thought I could do it; but I wanted to try.)
"Gnomes," she said. (Aubrey loves gnomes; don’t ask me why.)
Thus, this was born:

The Gnome Poem
by Anna
to Aubrey

Gnomes are short, bearded, and fat
With bright, jolly eyes and red pointed hats
Some wear blue coats, a belt buckle or two
Some might go barefoot, but ones I’ve met are shoed.

Some are named Nobert, or maybe Jane Austen*
They’re all over the globe, from Beijing to Boston
I’ve seen them carrying lanterns and riding on snails
Or living in tree stumps on old forest trails.

Some people use gnomes to brighten their lives
From lawns to bedrooms, the gnome-decor stores thrive
So many people now think gnomes are "cool"
(I even heard of one weirdo who brought one to school!)

But while I admit that they’re cute and chubby
Personally I’d reject one for use as a hubby
For though gnomes are pleasant to talk to, I’ve found
I just can’t get over the fact that they’re round.

Well, after coming up with this and delivering it to its rightful owner, my other friend Aubry came to me. "Oh, I’d like a poem!" she said.
Now being in the poem-writing mood, I said, "What about?"
"About me," she said. (This really wasn’t conceited of her at all; you would have had to have been there to understand, though.)
Well, this is what I came up with. (And I know it's not strictly a ballad, but doesn't it sound grand to say so?)

The Ballad of Aubry Gross: Why We Like Her the Most
by Anna
to Aubry Gross**

This is the ballad of Aubry Gross
And it tells why we like her the most.

Is it because she slaps ceilings at cars that are yellow?***
Or because her personality is anything but mellow? ****

It may be that her taste in boys is like mine
Or that she started me on Mad Love signs.*****

Maybe it’s that she’s the life of the party-
One moment, we’re quiet- she comes- and we’re rowdy.

It could be that she’s funny and sunny
To sum it all up, she’s a real honey.

Not to mention she’s gorgeous, without a doubt
Aubry is beautiful, from inside to out.

Yes, we love you, Aubry, I’ll admit that it’s true.
What is the reason? It’s simple- You’re you.

Now Aubry read it, hugged me, thanked me profusely, then giggled. "I’ve got to go show Aubrey," she said (referring, of course, to the first Aubrey.) "Mine is better than hers!"
The two then had an "argument" (all in joke, of course) about whose poem was better, and pretended not to speak to each other. Well, I knew that they were only kidding, but still wanting to write poems, I wrote this:

Apology
by Anna
to the Aubr(e)ys

This is a poem to reconcile the Aubr(e)ys
Two friends, divided by poems.
One was a ballad to compliment greatness
The other, to compliment gnomes.

I’m afraid I’m the means by which this was done
For I wrote the Rhymes of Woe.
While trying to bring on smiles and laughs
Seeds of jealousy were sown.

So I’m sorry my poems weren’t equal in love
(Or at least, that is what I’ve been told.)
I only wanted to write a few rhymes-
I guess I struck envy, not gold.

This is THE END of the story, but not of this post.

*My friend, for whom I wrote the poem, has named a certain gnome of hers Jane Austen.
**Yes, her last name is Gross. I would have left out all the last names, if I could, but then The Ballad wouldn’t have rhymed.
***Aubry’s family invented a game in which, should you see a yellow car, you slap the ceiling and cry, "Yellow!" (If outside, you just put your hand in the air.) Aubry is the Yellow Queen.
****When the other Aubrey read the poem, determined to make hers seem better, she (jokingly) claimed this was really an insult in disguise. "What she’s really saying is that you’re obnoxious," she said.
*****Mad Love signs: Making hearts with your hands/arms/body- anything, really.