Here, Sit I

(Another one from the Victorian Graveyard)

i do not know you
yet i’m drawn to sit beside
this moss stained stone

here in shade where pine cones fall
drenched by April’s constant rain
here I sit where songbirds’ notes
sing mournful songs from
tiny throats

where bluebells gather at your feet
and ivy vines cling dampened ground
here beneath forget me nots
your buried bones reach out to me
i swear i heard a muffled cry
here I sit alone with thoughts

of why a child should breathe her last
of why a child from decades past
should touch my heart
an open grave
should kiss my cheek
as I walk by

Reviews

[J. B.]

A tale of heart break and remembrance. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, just teaches us how to cope with them through the aging of us all.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you so much for your review. Your thoughtful words touched me.

Chris

[Arundass TP]

A very powerful poem. Both nature and graveyard, loneliness vs emotions all in one song. Excellent writing

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Arundass. I appreciate your kind thoughts.

Chris

[Coyote Poetry]

I agree dear Chris. A children grave can steal our heart. Near me. I visit the soldiers graves and I visit the children graves. Many are still remembered with gifts and photos. I do believe the spirits do whisper to us. Thank you dear friend for sharing the amazing poetry.
Coyote

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you dear Coyote for stopping by. Sending best wishes to you and yours. All the best.

Chris

[Mauricio Montoya]

Wow Chris as I read it brought memories as how I would sit but when I continue to read it open wounds of dear friend I miss as I still walk never goes a day that I think of the friendship we once had. Thank you for sharing.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you dear Mauricio. I appreciate you.

Chris

[Mauricio Montoya]

It's a good.write you brought something. That made me think, thank you.

[Chris Shaw]

You are welcome :)

[Richard🖌]

First, Chris 🥀

I love the syntactic effect of "Here, Sit I" … along with some of the most creatively impressive word-artistry in thought and feeling to sincerely touch my depths in a long while … somehow, I'm not surprised it is You who brought it all to life … sadness 'and' sheer beauty.

"i do not know you
yet i’m drawn to sit beside
this moss-stained stone"

What better to set the moment's timbre?

"here I sit alone with thoughts
of why a child should breathe her last
of why a child from decades past
should touch my heart
an open grave
should kiss my cheek
as I walk by"

Sheesch, Chris! Everything of every line, word choice and placement, flow, and meaningful depth throughout this soul-impacting work is poignantly stellar in its ambient lure, endearing and enduring spell.
Sad as the Victorian era was, that spread worldwide waterborne cholera, killing millions, it also inspired the discovery of antibiotics and forms of disinfection to make drinking water potable.
Still, how can one not mourn all the innocent children and humanity lost, as a whole; especially, when resting in a peaceful, long forgotten, vine embraced cemetery? I can hear the birds and smell Nature's earthly petrichor.

Multiple reads through, this is one that will haunt … your combined mastery and inner depth speaks volumes.
Thank you, Chris 🙏 ⁓ Richard🖌

[Chris Shaw]

Dear Richard, your indepth review is greatly appreciated. Thank you for your time. I must apologize for my tardy response. I have been having a break from poetry. Wishing you all the best.

Chris

[Richard🖌]

You're most welcome, Chris⁓*
And, I warmly thank You for your very kind response.
Yes, I, too, have been absent from the Café of late; yet, my worn, olde pen is seldom silent, always close-by … as I feel quite certain, yours is at hand for you, as-well.
Chris, I hope you'll never quit writing your original, ever-increasingly creative, masterful poetry.

Now, you need The BOOK! 😃
As ever ⁓ Richard🖌

[Andrew John]

As so often, you present emotions so well. I've read this several times. Songbirds, moss and a distantly existing child. Yes, we can feel if we spend some time at a graveside - possibly feel someone who was a relative.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you dear Andrew. I appreciate you.

Chris

[alexAlexander]

The Title " Here I Sit" as a poet conjures profound imagery. Here beneath forget-me-nots. Only never to forget her.

[Chris Shaw]

Many thanks for your kind review. Apologies for my Kate response, I have been having a break from poetry. All the best.

Chris

[butterfly]

I have never been to a Victorian graveyard its nice to see one in this amazing poem.Well done Chris! :)

[Chris Shaw]

Quite an experience to see Mother Nature reclaim. The flora and birdsong were magnificent, as was the sense of eternal peace. Thank you so much for stopping by to share your thoughts.

Chris

[Fairy Khan]

That hits hard Chris! So tragic.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Fairy. Lovely to have a visit from you.

Chris

[Dave]

Chris - this was so sad ansd heart rending. I had a dear friend who lost a son in a tragic accident. It has got to be gut-wrenching to for parents to have to bury their children. I know it was for my friend.
Take care, Chris.

[Chris Shaw]

Thank you Dave. A visit to a Victorian cemetery makes you realize just how many children died. Illness and disease was rife then. Thank you for your understanding. Have a good Monday.

Chris