A Day By The Stream By The Lake - Poem by Maynard Hartman
We held each other very close.
I smelled her hair and then I spoke
'Marry me, you’re all I adore',
and she agreed, down by the shore.
We kissed so deep my breath, it waned.
She giggled at the weather vane,
that spun, and spun in the balmy breeze.
We inhaled the flower dust and sneezed.
She laid me down on comfort ground,
and told me 'Love relax your crown.'
On silken pillow that she placed…
she dragged her hair across my face.
I slumbered lightly to the droning bee,
while she was busy making tea.
My love bent low and gently breathed,
'Wake up my dearest, it’s time to eat of berry seed cake, oh so sweet.'
I smiled broadly and opened my eyes,
her lovely visage, beneath the sky.
Yawning, I shifted and sat up straight.
Then as I reached out to partake of my adorer’s sweetened cake, I looked upon my outstretched palm, and noticed something completely wrong.
There inside my hand it seemed,
was the thing that caused her scream.
My lovely adored dropped her tea, and sat there staring, terrified of me.
It moved and writhed like tortured worm.
The sensation intense, my palm…it burned.
I grabbed a knife and pulled it free,
from the apple she had prepared for me.
I begged her sadly, 'Do not flee,
I’ll fix this thing real soon, you’ll see.'
I held the blade, it glinted bright.
Then placed the tip up close and tight,
against the moving, torturing blight.
That made its home inside my hand,
the one that will hold my wedding band.
I cut, and hacked, and screamed in pain trying to release this bane,
that placed itself inside my palm,
I looked around…my love was gone.
But when I slide the knife inside,
I noticed that this thing did hide,
and somehow, now, eluded me.
I blinked my eyes and tried to see,
then found it there…inside my knee.
I wondered if she pitied me.
For here, and now, upon my knee
I slashed and stabbed to set it free,
this horrid thing inside of me.
It moved so quickly to avoid my attack,
I shuddered as it climbed my back.
Using the knife I carved a track,
a jagged affair, a sloppy attack.
Around my neck, then down my back.
The clouds rolled in like a boiling sea,
as my blood drained away from me.
My life, now spent, I could not flee,
this thing that was inside of me.
So, I laid there by the shore,
my life now spent, the will to move— no more. My body now, was naught but gore.
And as I faded down on the shore,
I dreamed of a different day by the lake, where we ate her sweetened cake.
Comments about A Day By The Stream By The Lake by Maynard Hartman
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye