Ann Beard Poems

“I would like to help”, little more than a whisper,
misty brown eyes turned to stare where I stood.
...

If I could write a letter to my Dad.
I’d ask him, are you watching over me?
Seeing through my eyes the life, I’ve had.
Translating all the worldly sights, I see.
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I have been here before so I know the way
It is down the corridor third on the right.
The door is wide open, I pause to observe
the harshness of time her face out of sight.
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A sombre day made only for reflection,
every second lasts the longest hour.
My mind a trap for kindest moments
is a garden full of every kind of flower.
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A kiss, becomes a pact between two souls,
penetrating barriers that shy doubt patrols.
for surely not one earthly joy exists,
to bring such utter comfort like a kiss.
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Between walls of pale lilac she lay,
her body contracting as if to give birth.
But instead of a child at the end of the day
Her soul fought the ties that bind it to earth.
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One candle offers ample light
two candles flicker twice as bright
But if a draft plucks one in spite,
one candle lives to mourn the night.
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She did not shed a single tear,
the weeks that she lay dying.
No pain was felt to feed her fear
the morphine soaked up every tear
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Come close. I will show you my heart.
do not fret if you feel me shiver.
of all that is human the most fragile part.
it will ripple and gush like a river.
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As darkness falls I drift towards a warm drowsy state,
and slumber vows to suffocate all darkest fears of fate.
My mind releases from all bonds of social sanity,
gaily dancing among memories, of what used to be.
...