She Sought Shade

by Ben Pickard   Mar 31, 2019

On that bleak night, those years ago,
The rivers filled and overflowed
For underneath the heaven's eyes,
I sat beneath the moon and cried
And turned the brooks to woe and brine -
My tears were theirs, despair was mine

My little nymph - my woodland sprite -
Had chosen then, upon that night,
To fling her soul to realms unknown
And live amongst the weeds we'd sown
For concrete now besmeared her home,
And though she'd stayed, the birds had flown

Great swathes of pain now mar these trees
Which disappear by slow degrees
My fairy of these former glades
Has died without the woodland shade
And I am left, now all alone,
To grieve upon the stone we've grown


Ben Pickard 2019


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Latest Comments

  • 4 weeks ago

    by Star

    I was reminded of this while reading and hearing the news of the wildfires in the Amazon rainforest. Both carry a heavy and sad feeling..

  • 3 months ago

    by Vanesa

    A sad read but left me actually with a sweet taste.

  • 5 months ago


    Well done Ben, I agree with the others, that your rhyming metaphors were expertly placed. Indeed, a sad tale, the industrial acid smog and rain, which is destroying many a beloved woodland, even the mighty whale has become frail.
    Added to my favorites.

    • 5 months ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Very true, Ken. Thanks for reading.

  • 5 months ago

    by Daniel

    Loved the title, and whilst the image you paint is definitely nothing new, the story carries enough depth, and your word choice is interesting and fitting. I feel you wrote yourself into this poem, as it gets stronger with each stanza. A sad and (unfortunately) too true poem.

    • 5 months ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Thanks, Daniel. You're right in terms of it being nothing new, but I suppose it's a topic that becomes more relevant with the passing of time and the continued destruction we cause.
      Take care

  • 5 months ago

    by Brenda

    Ben, this is so sad and pretty all at the same time. I do adore woodland creatures and all mythical beasties. Nicely rhymed and flows beautifully.

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