WildernessA Poem by Chris ShawMake of it what you will
What carries on the wind, it is not clear?
I listen with intent as it draws near. In silence I anticipate a spark of understanding in the pre dawn dark? Yet only whispers find their way to me, In tongues that do not speak with clarity. And that's the way it's been for many years, through all my adult days, my unspun tears. I wait with patience while you stay away, I stand alone , I have no will to pray. © 2018 Chris ShawFeatured Review
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16 Reviews Added on December 1, 2018 Last Updated on December 1, 2018 AuthorChris ShawBerkshire, United KingdomAboutAlbert, my paternal grandfather introduced me to Tennyson when I was nine. I have loved poetry ever since but did not attempt writing a single piece until I was 40. It's never too late to try somethin.. more..Writing
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