Calls A GraveyardA Poem by Chris Shaw
far away in southern Devon
as the crow flies to the sea where white crested waves are rolling where green hills are rising gently where thick red clay cakes the wet boot in a graveyard lies my father with a wish to speak to me "close your eyes your heart will guide you do not pine for long lost loved ones do not wish me back to find you with your grey eyes sadly misted in a world i don't remember nurture all who struggle daily in your living family stand beside your little sister as you did when you were children when her tears spilled out in sorrow when her knees were grazed and bleeding take her hand and lead her forward through her darkest days of grieving serving her, you do so me"
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Added on January 25, 2021Last Updated on January 25, 2021 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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