Afternoon TeaA Poem by Chris Shaw(support mental health illness)
she sits uneasy, her tormented
expression haunted by ghosts whose constant calls poke sharps with their speaking in hurt ears her once flawless skin now pallid no sign of expected tears, a light breeze blowing in unkempt hair, strands caught in a dark collar it's been many years since a genuine smile lit up her once beautiful face, where a trace of mischief would settle on a smattering of freckles when her laughter spilled into spring air, chuckling like a waterfall trickling down an English wooded hillside into a fresh cool stream her long locks, the colour of ripened corn in farmer's fields ready for harvest, kind eyes resembling liquid chocolate flecked with gold leaf and the sound of her voice, runny like honey on buttered toast, warm for the tasting, deliciously sweet, so perfectly lovely, amusing and funny for a moment i thought i heard the rustle of her goth silk layered skirt, sound of jangling assorted jewellery as she twirled in black lace gloves .......................................... no sugar for me she said as we shivered by the riverside cafe in the usual signs of winter's cold calling
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19 Reviews Added on October 27, 2020 Last Updated on October 27, 2020 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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