Like River Grass

Like River Grass

A Poem by Chris Shaw

behold tall bold river grass
as it sways in a westerly
morning breakfast breeze

moving with overhead cloud
before its flexible backbone
returns to o’clock

while biscuit coloured foxtail
plumes brush the cool dry air
in feather duster tickles

as the whole cycle
repeats like a stuck stylus and
i recall our own species

how we can bend with
wind change to bounce back
after a battering

while some sadly break
to become crushed by
all that’s belligerent

not all are resilient
not all can go with the flow
for even in a lakeside show

casualties of cruelty
inflicted by fickle ways of nature
lie bruised and broken

© 2023 Chris Shaw


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Featured Review

LOL I got a crook in my neck and my legs aren't what they used to be my arms can't reach nearly as high and strong as they used to:( I'm trying to get back upright but you'll forgive me if I can't stand as proud as I once was my dear Chris:) but my heart and my spirit still stand 10 feet high and wrestle with all the nettles along the shoreline:) Lovely lovely lovely lines

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Dear Robert, your review warms me. Thank you so much for your kindness. Take good care of yourself... read more



Reviews

I've made similar observations as have many other writers and poets. It's good to be able to bend in the high winds and to straighten again with the strength from our roots. Some of us put down roots like a cypress tree and stand strong as any oak. We know our end but we endure until we reach it, no matter the storm. I'm reminded of this song. It's one of my favorites. "The willow can bend and the moon, she can hide, but the oak tree will stand until it breaks from its pride and I may look unbroken but deep down inside, alas, I am one of the unsatisfied. And we walk among our brothers with a strange and faraway look in our eyes. And we often play the clown to hide the fact that something deep within us cries. Lord, and some of us are poets, some dream until they die. Until we're one with the Spirit, we're unsatisfied." from "One Of The Unsatisfied" written by Jill Croston and Lee Kellison as recorded by Lacy J. Dalton

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Dear Fabian, I love the lyrics you have shared to that song from One of the Unsatisfied. Your respon.. read more
“ Morning breakfast breeze “ with flocks of birds following in its path….all in flight to save their souls….looking for hope and happiness….conversely, humans can often bend with change if they are resilient; some are able to do to this, others not….those who cannot are too bent in their ways and often suffer from negative consequences….they must struggle for their lives….. this is so true Chis, and I know people who cannot bend and they suffer for it…. Excellent use of words….. to show us how humans are affected by the change in the wind…..
Best
B.


Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

The need for flexibility and tolerance is so important these days Betty. Thank you for your wise wor.. read more
Betty Hermelee

1 Year Ago

You're very welcome dear Chris
Happy V Day as well...
from Fernandina Beach ,Fl
Isn't that the truth but in nature I truly believe one is sacrificed to make room for another and another. Damn I loved "morning breakfast breeze" I wish I had written that.

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Thank you will . The breakfast breeze line carried a waft of bacon on it. We had a lovely breakfast .. read more
willweb

1 Year Ago

Bacon? That makes it even better. : )
A poem with wonderful visuals created of river grass swaying to the breeze and how those biscuit colored plumes tickle the air. With the imagery, you take the reader to that field where the grass is moving and I can feel the rhythm of it and also see the overhead cloud.

With your words you make me think of resilience, physical, emotional, mental and how crucial it is for survival. As individuals, as a community, a nation and as a species. Flexibility can be a matter of life or death. Once, I was passing through the aftermath of a cyclone and I saw field and field stretching out for kilometers with trees, unbroken but bent almost prostrate upon the ground, as if in supplication to the gods of wind to stop their fury. It was a wondrous site to behold. And then, there were the ones, that as you mentioned in the poem, lying bruised and broken as causalities of nature as they could not bend as much as was needed for survival.

As always, you have taken a beautiful picture from nature and brilliantly woven a life lesson into it. Kudos on such amazing poetry, dear Chris!

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Thank you divya for your continued encouragement on my efforts and for sharing as well your tree sto.. read more
Ayvid N

1 Year Ago

Happy Valentine's Day to you and yours, dear Chris.
It was a pleasure and a learning to read.. read more
Some can bend beyond measure, while others become too brittle and snap. I am feeling like the snapped kind after a long weekend of winter vomiting bug, but have managed to keep down a coffee for the first time and that wasn't a good look for a funeral.
We're leaving the return journey to Wednesday and hopefully can keep something more substantial down... So far I've only managed to recycle water, but fingers crossed. 😊

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Sorry you have been ill Lorry. Fingers crossed you will feel better for the return journey. Funerals.. read more
I find myself as a riverbed, staring into a breaking frost and risen emotion ..true ...so very true poems like these seem to say, and slow like spring, and just as slow as I find myself gathering your words like wildflowers on display. So wonderfully done as if the spirit of Mary Oliver was guiding your hand. Beautiful...Thanks~

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Thank you so much Perdition for your encouraging words, especially about the spirit of Mary Oliver... read more

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491 Views
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Added on February 13, 2023
Last Updated on February 13, 2023

Author

Chris Shaw
Chris Shaw

Berkshire, United Kingdom



About
Albert, 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..

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