ChoicesA Poem by Chris Shaw
that glow of a log fire from
an Edwardian hearth is so warming on cold winter evenings when fingers of flickering flame lick and dance in their blue and red attire half way up the chimney which transports me in time to great grandfather James a chimney sweep with a successful business until he chose to squander his profits on drink sadly losing his family home that’s when life turned sour that’s when his luck fell in the mire when his wife and youngest left him drowning in his beer glass of false happiness which led Eva his daughter to recall without flinching an inch how he died alone in shame on a park bench on a night when the enclosed duck pond had completely iced over when little hearts unaware slept soundly in their beds © 2023 Chris ShawFeatured Review
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12 Reviews Added on January 17, 2023 Last Updated on January 19, 2023 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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