The Day the Milk Spilled
No rhyme, no reason,
for what happened that day.
Like the feeling when waiting,
for the other shoe to drop.
It was the day the milk spilled…
Can life really be so good?
The sun high in a brilliant blue sky,
bees buzzing about,
flowers waving in the summer breeze,
birds singing songs in the trees.
It was a day to make your heart sing,
then dark clouds blew in,
the wind whipped about,
the birds flew away
and heavy rains came pouring down.
It was the day that went topsy-turvy,
but I knew the rainbows would return,
however long it took,
just a matter of waiting it out.
Don’t run and hide,
soon there will be smiles,
until then ride it out –
the day the milk spilled.
Just as the music began to play,
he had angry words to say,
twirling about in a dance,
while he spoke
and put you in a trance.
No more magic,
reality had set in,
the man you thought you loved –
now seemed a stranger.
You should have known,
when the morning brought,
dark clouds,
that the nighttime,
would bring bad tidings.
Yet, hope is the last thing you let go of,
your heart filled with love,
keeps on beating,
hoping that it will find –
a loving heart beating along in time.
Days when you find,
that there’s more bad than good news,
nothing that will amuse
and while you’re dancing,
you find you have two left feet,
love has flown,
you should have known,
what was coming –
the day the milk spilled.
- Her Magical Attic - May 24, 2024
- Reflecting on the Setting Sun - April 9, 2024
- In My Special Dreams - February 16, 2024
Not a good day when milk is spilled. Very nicely penned verse, Rasma. Well done.
Thank you, Phyllis. It was inspired by a oldies song with the words no milk today.
I thoroughly enjoyed this poem Rasma. Excellently written.
Thank you, John.
Very true Rasma. I find it is best to be aware of these days before they happen. Jamie
That is so true, Jamie. Just that one tip of the glass…
Nicely penned dear poet, I’ve had a lot of milk spilled in my day, mainly because I never drink it:-) however I get your message, beautifully expressed. I walk cautiously and stay away from walking under ladders and avoiding the number 13…as I don’t want any milk spilled on my otherwise sunny day. Peace my friend.
Thank you, Vincent. I always remember being particularly careful of hazy, milky looking puddles on the street after a downpour.