Ann Beard

Veteran Poet - 1,106 Points [Roan B] (1944 / London. UK)

Ann Beard Poems

41. The Ties That Bind 3/9/2008
42. Change. 11/4/2007
43. A Fox. 10/1/2008
44. The Green Hills Of Drury 10/15/2007
45. Fast Asleep. 2/21/2008
46. Love Gone Love Gone. 1/6/2009
47. Degree Of Fear 3/15/2008
48. Dear Friend 5/17/2009
49. Two Way Profound. 2/2/2009
50. A Jacaranda Tree. 1/6/2008
51. The Winds Of Borrowed Time 7/6/2007
52. Two Shades Of Green 2/25/2009
53. I Never Saw Her Cry. 7/30/2007
54. Come Close. 4/14/2008
55. One Candle. 1/1/2009
56. Between Walls Of Pale Lilac. 3/4/2008
57. A Kiss. 12/23/2008
58. As I Used To Be. 3/30/2008
59. A Lady With Cake. 12/14/2008
60. A Letter To My Dad 8/10/2007
61. First Love 9/4/2007

Comments about Ann Beard

  • Terry Dawson (4/12/2015 7:00:00 AM)

    In the mould of Dora Wilcox. Well done!

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  • Colin J... Colin J... (7/7/2008 2:13:00 PM)

    your kind comment on 'The fox'
    I have made a small change...
    Do you like it?

  • Philip Housiaux (4/14/2008 1:35:00 PM)

    Going home is a very fine piece of writing - both formal technique and idea communication. good work thanks

  • Roger Cornish (11/23/2007 8:45:00 AM)

    All your Poetry is thought provoking and very well written! Can't wait for More!

Best Poem of Ann Beard

First Love

“I would like to help”, little more than a whisper,
misty brown eyes turned to stare where I stood.
“I would like to try” the words came out crisper,
resolve filling all of the places it could.

I had watched him struggle to rise from a chair,
had felt the frustration that threatened his calm.
Firmly bracing myself to take on his glare
“I needed to come and I wish you no harm”.

Falling back in the chair his face turning ashen
his body was shrunken to quite half its size.
The illness had robbed him of life’s very passion,
apart from the last spark of ...

Read the full of First Love

A Jacaranda Tree.

A Jacaranda tree stands tall, and sways as if to say,
Look! At this magnificence, I’m wearing blue today.
forgive the way I shout aloud, my lack of modesty,
but nowhere in this troubled world is finery like me.

Light rays slide between each leaf, to settle on the tips
to lightly kiss your face with a hundred million tiny lips.
You only have to lift your eyes to greet the filtered sun
a sight I guarantee will warm the heart of everyone.

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