Bridge With No NameA Poem by Chris ShawBirthing a memory
Between two bridges grand and arched
a third now spans the mighty Thames where Christchurch Meadows, lush with green displays last summer's grief in rain. In autumn sun, she stands serene, her burnished steel ablaze and bright. A mast that peaks, a mountain high. Here you and I dear sister plan to walk and birth a memory. Pedestrians and cyclists too, will cross today, 'neath wide eyed blue to view this river at its best. In years to come our kin will say, our loved ones crossed the bridge that day, they saw the ribbon cut in two, permitting all to travel through.
© 2018 Chris ShawFeatured Review
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19 Reviews Added on December 31, 2018 Last Updated on December 31, 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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