Here, Sit IA Poem by Chris Shaw(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 © 2024 Chris ShawReviews
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Added on April 29, 2024Last Updated on May 2, 2024 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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