When Grief Is All There Is (English sonnet)

by Ben Pickard   Feb 22, 2018

The leaves have died and rest beneath my feet;
A sorry metaphor for wilting dreams.
I stand here bare and cannot be discreet -
My skin begins to rend its fragile seams.
The sea will take my tears with little thought;
The wind will take my dreams with not a care.
I stalked the world for love but all I caught
Were beasts that tempted me into their snares.
The clouds have oft amassed about my head -
My blood has always run a little thin -
And so I view the world with fright and dread,
And try to suture up my fraying skin.
When life is nothing more than falling leaves,
Abort all thoughts of joy and simply grieve.


Ben Pickard


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Latest Comments

  • 9 months ago

    by Em (marmite)

    Ben as always you have left me speechless

  • 9 months ago

    by Nema

    Your poem has a beautiful rhythm to it. The rhyme runs so smoothly and delicately.

    My favourite line was this: "The wind will take my dreams with not a care."

    Bleak, in a beautiful way.

    Write on!

  • 9 months ago

    by Kitty Cat Lady

    It can be hard not being thick-skinned Ben, but I'd rather feel every feeling fully than not at all.
    Another beautifully crafted piece :-) x

    • 9 months ago

      by Ben Pickard

      I agree entirely, Kitty...sometimes

  • 9 months ago

    by Dagmar Wilson

    Like I said before you never seem to amaze me and I am glad you are back. All the best Ben

  • 9 months ago

    by Milly Hayward

    As always an awe inspiring beautiful write. Best wishes Milly x

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