Someone Else's Grief

(part of my stamp collection from years ago, an envelope with a black border,from the reign of Queen Victoria, the contents long gone)

An envelope I've saved for years,

the contents never meant for me,

its border heavy, sad with black,

the postmark eighteen, eighty-three.

Each letter slanted by the hand,

a quill and ink the style of pen.

The Empire Queen stamped on her throne,

a penny lilac way back then.

From time to time my mind breaks free,

I ponder mourners and their dead.

The Tennants of Belgravia,

the order from the sender read.

The seal is open, neatly sliced,

they must have used a letter knife.

And how did they receive the news,

the ending of another's life?

Did it greet them late one morning?

Did it strike without a warning?

Did they need the smelling salts,

to start them on their path of mourning?

Alas for me I'll never know,

or why it matters after years,

and yet I hold within, my hand

the cause of other people's tears

Reviews

[Neville]

This is so sad and in so many ways .. and also a reminder of just how values and indeed sentimentalities change over time .. They don't write them like that any more, do they .. The sadness of uncertainty clearly still lingers .. A fine write if ever there was.

Neville

[Chris Shaw]

Dear Neville, thank you for giving this old poem a breathe of fresh air. I still have that envelope in my stamp collection. My imagination went into overdrive writing this. Pleased you stopped by.

Chris

[Mrudula Rani]

Sad news in whichever form it comes, it is earth shattering for those who receive it. The envelope you saved for years, the contents that are not ment for you,still your description of the envelope sent shivers down my back . I know how unbearably painful the news that comes from somewhere and knocks you off your feet and leaves you in a sea of sorrow. Christine, what an utterly mesmerizing poem you have penned.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Mrudula Rani. Yes in those days that was how bad news was delivered. Everyone must have dreaded the arrival of those black bordered envelopes. Your lovely comments very encouraging.

Chris

[KeeD]

I think you have a unique talent for writing about memories and situations and bringing them to life for the reader. Your words flow effortlessly, and I can actually feel like I'm transported in time to the finding of the letter, the texture of it in your hand. I can feel the family it belonged too and their presence knowing that it is in valued and safekeeping in such a precious poet's possession. I want to learn how to write like you so I can write about anything and make it art. You literally can write about the plates are stacked in your kitchen and make it into a beautiful story.

[Chris Shaw]

Hello Keegan. I do hope you are recovering well from surgery. I am on holiday at the moment with family, so not much time for poetry. I am however very flattered by your review and thank you for your encouragement. I have yet to write about kitchen plates (lol). Take care

Chris

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

A fragile piece of history- a paper stamp and black-bordered envelope missing its message - such poetic meaning conveyed in this poem Chris. I did not know what a penny lilac stamp was before reading this. The neat package of mourning that must have come with such shock. I remember when my grandmother received such a black-bordered letter from Italy when I was a child. She dropped it on the floor in shock and cried before she even opened it. She knew it was the notice of her dear mother’s death. She hadn’t made it back to see her one last time, and grieved since that day. Your eloquent poem brought back this memory to my heart. Very meaningful write my friend.

[Chris Shaw]

Pleased you can relate to this poem Annette. Yes it must have been dreadful to receive an envelope such as this. A piece of history of the Victorian era. Always a pleasure to see your responses on my page Annette. Thank you.

Chris

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

You are always welcome Chris.:))