L Milton Hankins Poet Italian Sonnet

Picking Blackberries

Farther down the glade beyond Myrtle Creek
Where, as a kid, I went hunting for raspberries,
We discovered a ripening patch of blackberries
Grandmother and I went there for a solid week.
One early morning we heard a frightful shriek
And, we didn’t stop to entertain any inquiries,
Hastening out with half a bucket of ripe berries
Truthfully, in our stomachs, we felt kind of weak.

Grandmother’s pies were enhanced by the tale
Of our sudden departure from the berry patch,
And how we hurriedly left with a half-filled pail
We embellished the story of our quick dispatch,
Always leaving the impression, without a fail,
That we had met up with a real live Sasquatch.

Written July 3, 2021

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Judy Ball July 4, 2021 at 6:35 AM A cool tale to tell and a wonderful memory of your adventure with your grandma. Love the imagery here. God Bless, JB L Milton Hankins July 4, 2021 at 8:27 AM Thanks so much for your read and your lovely comment, JB.

Demetrios Trifiatis July 4, 2021 at 3:48 AM A lovely captivating tale of childhood years, is getting more attractive with the passing of time, my friend, L MILTON. This is not an exemption. I enjoyed it very much. Happy 4th of July. Blessings. L Milton Hankins July 4, 2021 at 8:28 AM Thanks so much, Demetrios. It is always good to hear from you.

Bj Legros Kelley July 3, 2021 at 11:54 PM My husband had family who lived in Myrtle Point, OR, and he would fish and swim in Myrtle Creek. I wonder if the Myrtle Creek you gathered raspberries was the same one? His brother was a logger in Oregon and boy, did he ever have tales of Sasquatch to share with us! I never knew whether to believe in Sasquatch or not. I love your story, it opened up a dialogue of my husband's young days after I read this to him! It is a fun write. Who knows, maybe it was Bigfoot that you heard screeching when he saw you taking those raspberries! L Milton Hankins July 4, 2021 at 8:33 AM (chuckle) BJ, this account was fiction. My grandmother did pick blackberries when she was a child in West Virginia. In fact, she lost the sight of one eye while picking blackberries. Nope, Myrtle Creek came right out of my head, but Myrtle Creek, OR sounds like a lovely place! Thanks so much for your comments and for adding to my story.