My Lenore

by Ben Pickard   Jun 3, 2019


It looked out to sea and charted our course,
It sat in the flowers, the heather and gorse.
We'd sit through the seasons; the waves, how they roared!
...but she doesn't come to the bench anymore.

She swept from the clifftops, appeared from the ground;
Approached me with beauty and never a sound.
She sat down beside me - my winter had thawed
...but she doesn't come to the bench anymore.

We spoke of our ills, our pain and our woe;
We sutured the wounds that were forged long ago.
We managed to leave all the pain from before
...but she doesn't come to the bench anymore.

I often would gaze at her eyes just beneath
The bonnet adorned with the gorse from our heath.
And there was such passion - so much to adore!
...but she doesn't come to the bench anymore.

She whispered to me of the clouds and the rain,
She promised me I would be better again.
She used to trace rainbows, the wonders she saw
...but she doesn't come to the bench anymore.

Her lips used to quiver - oh, she teased with her mirth,
And she danced like her feet were as one with the earth.
And when we were spent, we would love and would soar
...but she doesn't come to the bench anymore.

I still see her eyes and her porcelain skin;
I still feel her presence, without and within.
I still feel the breeze that would ruffle her dresses -
And still feel the silk of her delicate tresses.
I ever and ever hear each of her words -
They callous and blister - they scratch and they irk.
For there on the cliffs, I scream and implore:

Lenore!

Lenore!

Lenore!

I would have said nothing, but can hold it no more:
Here is the tale of my missing Lenore.

--

Ben Pickard 2019

8


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Latest Comments

  • 2 months ago

    by Vanesa

    She promised me I’d be better again.

    Ffffffff that lines. Great read.

  • 2 months ago

    by Brenda

    Ben, loved this. I really like your repeat line. It's dark yet holding out for hope that his Lenore would come back to him.

    • 2 months ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Thank you, Brenda. But I cannot accept that anything I write is 'dark'. Although...

      Take care and stay well

  • 2 months ago

    by CRAFTY KEN

    Wonderful write, I agree with Milly about the repeated refrain, I still see her eyes and her porcelain skin;
    I still feel her presence, without and within, these are such deeply felt expressed emotions! With all the lines, devotion is kept to the rhyming. Well done Ben, I bow to you as an outstanding Poet.
    Added to my Favorites, glad that it was Nominated!

    • 2 months ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Lovely words, Ken. Thanks very much. All the best to you.

  • 2 months ago

    by Everlasting

    Lovely, Poe came to mind when I read the title.
    Well done.

    • 2 months ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Thanks, Lucero. The name Lenore was definitely a nod to Poe.

  • 2 months ago

    by Milly Hayward

    Wow....What a wonderful tale made all the more haunting by the repeated refrain. You have an amazing way with words in poetry and so can imagine you would also be great at writing short stories too. Another masterpiece perfect in every way. Milly x

    • 2 months ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Thanks, Milly and then you for the lovely words. As for short stories, I'm not sure I have the patience...

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