Undressed

Undressed

A Poem by Chris Shaw

a pitcher of sunshine
pours through undressed
window glass
a pure liquid gold
to pool on white sheets
crumpled in disarray
drenching exposed toes
kissing ankles
to settle on veiled thighs
how warm starts my day

© 2025 Chris Shaw


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Reviews

Hopefully Chris, this is a precursor to spring whivh im told is about to start any time soon.
Its a toss up really between believing that and depending on your news of choice, snowmageddon coming in the form of the beast from the east volume 2.
I know which one we'd all prefer though! 😀
Liquid gold sunshine or a long trudge through the white stuff, while wishing our parents were from barbados! Hmm, touch choice! 😁

Posted 4 Hours Ago


Love the "pitcher of sunshine"

Posted 4 Hours Ago


Beautiful imagery and use of the senses.

Posted 14 Hours Ago


i think you wrote this whilst still in bed, and those exposed toes i can relate to lol.
Sensual but just enough to feel the warmth beneath those veiled thighs.
A lovely, natural and appealing write Chris ... :)
Stella

Posted 14 Hours Ago


Delightful Chris. Warm sunshine can be like hot chocolate.

Posted 15 Hours Ago


Chris,
Warm? Sounds like it might even get hot...
and sweaty...
Vol

Posted 16 Hours Ago


Warm & lovely words, Chris, on a Sunday morning (here), in images of a thoroughly satisfying waking :)

Posted 17 Hours Ago


Lucky for some eh? I'm jealous lol it's so over cast cold and windy here
At least I have the privilege of reading your beautifully penned poem.. I catch a glimmer of warmth whilst reading.

Posted 18 Hours Ago


Beautiful as ever Chris. Spring appears to have arrived in Bristol UK as well today. What a Blessing. Really Excellent ✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Posted 18 Hours Ago


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MCS
What a delightful read! I’m envious, its dark and gloomy here with the mercury below zero.

Posted 18 Hours Ago



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94 Views
10 Reviews
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Added on March 2, 2025
Last Updated on March 2, 2025

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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