Maternal LoveA Poem by Chris ShawThe Oaks Residential Home, visiting my aunt
Lily sits in a high back chair
her vacant eyes stare into limbo soft music plays in the background her ears do not hear the notes she has a pink scarf at her throat hiding her wrinkled skin on her chest her baby rests snuggled in a shawl a mother’s tenderness can’t be mistaken her thin fingers caress that child with delicate slow movement over and over again and no one can prise that doll from her even though the lunch bell rings © 2024 Chris ShawReviews
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18 Reviews Added on December 5, 2024 Last Updated on December 7, 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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