Millie My Darling Girl

• Erin Bleach, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2014

Millie my darling girl

Millie was the warmth in my heart of dark
She has made a wound that will never heal
The loss is constricting I want to be a lark
I would fly away like it was no big deal

She used to Irish dance my grandma said
And rub her belly on the cream carpet
She had a tumor which was cherry red
I love her my baby, my darling pet.

She had a habit of sleeping in my room
She would lick my face when I was teary
We knew that she was coming to her doom
We buried her when the light was eerie


And now she lies under a dirty white rose
At each fall of dusk a polyphonic prose

Is Said.