Her Milk Was Sour

by Ben Pickard   May 13, 2019


If the leaves should grieve the way I do,
Let lightning blast the bark.
If Heaven burns when I arrive,
Then let me love the dark.
If the sun shines down above my head,
But never lights the road,
Then let me live in black instead
And keep my dank abode.
When hope has latched its gate on me -
When solitude is all -
And when the thrush has flung its song,
Then let me yield and fall.
And when at last I close my eyes,
I want the world to know,
That I have said my last goodbyes,
But life has doused my glow.

Oh, reader, hear my last true words:
I never meant to fold,
But Nature squeezed me to her breast
And drowned my last resolve.

--

Ben Pickard 2019

11


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Latest Comments

  • 15 hours ago

    by S.T.A.R.

    Congratulations Ben, this indeed is a front page poem!!!

  • 15 hours ago

    by - Mr. Darcy

    I'm so glad this wonderful poem won - you need to start publishing, Ben.

  • 3 days ago

    by Milly Hayward

    Wow! breathtaking. I don't know where you manage to conjure such magic but it is truly wonderful. Please please write a book with all your lovely poems.... Loved it. Milly x

    • 3 days ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Thank you, Milly - glad you enjoyed.

  • Jeez you really have a way with words, if rhyming is meant to be a disadvantage... I've never seen it with your work.

    You always surpass yourself.

    Amazing.

    • 5 days ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Thanks so much, Tony. Personally, I can't ever accept that rhyme is a disadvantage in poetry but I understand it isn't always well done. Glad you think mine stands up!
      Take care.

  • 6 days ago

    by Michael

    Its sad fella, but how well written this is :) M

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