Stones

Before my Father died,

he combed beaches for stones.

Picked for surface smoothness,

colour or shape.

I picture him in my mind's eye

at Anstey's Cove,

pockets half-filled with finds.

Why he decided to apply

clear varnish, allow time to dry,

glue a few chosen ones together,

graded by size, escapes me.

I haven't a clue.

Perhaps he knew his days were numbered

and already encumbered with

that disease which killed him,

on a whim he instructed his creative side

to shout out.

Years have passed, 

I sigh as I look at

unstuck remains.

In my hands I hold

the relics of my Father's

last days.

I 

Author's Note

Critique welcome please.

Reviews

[Neville]

these words have once again touched upon that nerve that refuses to die and would I want it to .. no of course not .. since its correct full name is treasured memory .. and now my mucky face is stained because of my involuntarily leaking eyes ... stones eh' who would credit that :) x

[Chris Shaw]

Aw, you know mucky faces are quite endearing. Thank you Neville for choosing this one.

Chris

[Stella Armour]

How sad but beautiful Chris, his creative spirit urged him to seek out something in nature that he could preserve and build on for you .... :)

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you dear Stella. Yes, his creative side came out. I still have those stones.

Chris

[Sami Khalil]

I felt your love for him holding in your hands any relics pertaining to him; a treasured man with treasured sea stones that became art.
You have a big heart and a mighty pen.

[Chris Shaw]

Your review warns me Sami. Thank you so much. Happy Wednesday to you.

Chris

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome Chris

[Richard🖌]

Hi, Chris🍀

There is something about each of your poems that touches in a unique way, but always set upon the page with depth, feeling, and intent … this one is no different in that sense; except, its gentled moments, combined with thoughtfully rendered lines of verse bring your father, and your love for him, alive in such a vibrant way the heart sighs a wistful breath from the sheer tenderness of your own shared feelings and emotions.
I've a feeling you'll somehow literally or spiritually stick the rocks together he left for you to remember him by … your title says so much now.

Your gentleness here is wonderfully palpable, and shall stay with me all day.
Thank you ever-so gratefully, Chris ⁓ Richard🌿

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Richard for your kind and thoughtful words. I appreciate you stopping by to read this older poem. Have a wonderful Wednesday.

Chris

[Richard🖌]

Aw, 'tweren't nuthin'.

Poems never age, Chris; especially, those like this'n of you 'n your dearly beloved Father's precious stones.

[Marvin Thomas Cox-Flynn..]

A very tine tribute to your father, Chris ...

Marve

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Marve. He died 33 years ago. Never a day when I don’t think of him or hear his thoughts. I appreciate you calling on this old poem.

Chris

[light and ashes]

Sad and touching..
good lines.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you dear Light and Ashes for your kind words. I appreciate your visit. Have a beautiful weekend.

Chris

[Vol]

Chris.
You have skillfully said what needs saying about any of us who have lost such a great chunk of what made us, who made us. Important love leaves important traces. Kimberly was a gardener, and our flowers flourished beneath her hands. The ragged remnants i call "Kimberly's Ashes."
Vol

[Chris Shaw]

I am sorry for your loss of Kimberly. We love the remnants even more. I have the unstuck stones in my greenhouse. They are precious. Thank you fur your thoughtful response Vol.

Chris

[Arundass TP]

A painful memory. What our father and mother gave us is treasure. While reading this poem I was thinking about my Father and Mother and how they suffered to raise me. Good one.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you so much for giving this old poem an airing Arundass. I appreciate your thoughts.

Chris

[Ciara]

Your poems always touch my gears, Chris. 💛

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Ciara and for finding some of my older writes while my muse plays hard to get :)
read moreThank you Ciara and for finding some of my older writes while my muse plays hard to get :)

Chris

[Ciara]

🙂💛 my pleasure

[red93]

Ooh Chris this is a development. The high seriousness is maintained throughout. There is something happens when we write about our Fathers in their graves. The first Poem I ever published on The British Small Presses was about my deceased Father. A deeply Holy Act and one that will inform your Writing forthwith. You hit exactly the right note with this one.

[Chris Shaw]

Dear Tony thank you so much for the encouragement. This poem is one that I am proud of. Have a good Saturday my friend.

Chris

[red93]

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