Lark's Lament
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Soft, as the moon weeps,
A Lark trills endless, his mate,
Now, cold on the sand ...
His broken heart is my own,
This beach, our sanctuary.
Oh, my winged brother,
Your sweet song - bathed in sorrow,
Is but bitter perfection ...
Each tender note rends my soul,
As you plead ... for her answer.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Early February Standard" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "One or Two Tanka" Poetry Contest, Rick Parise, Sponsor.
~ Honorable Mention ~ in the "Favourite Poem From December 2017" Poetry Contest, Julia Ward, Judge & Sponsor.
(Checked at HowManySyllables.com)
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2017
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