Simply An Old TinA Poem by Chris Shaw(reworking of an archived poem) Beth age 7
With slim arms outstretched
and within the confines of her small cupped palms, she holds both halves of an egg shaped tin contents long gone. Paisley prettifies the exterior, traces of peppered rust line the interior rim. She presses both sides together, smiling at her success. Her bright eyes shut tight blocking out the light, as if this would magic up what has been lost. A momentary silence and then "This was my Dad's tin, did he keep his toffees in it?" No need to wait for a response, as blue sleeves of her school pullover are seized and set to work, to buff up the faded colours, to restore the shine, and bring him back to life. © 2019 Chris ShawFeatured Review
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22 Reviews Added on July 10, 2019 Last Updated on July 10, 2019 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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