Chris Shaw > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

thick rust gathers on a padlock where English oak holds memories of you confined to corridors of my mind in a Pandora's box firmly closed bar..

In a Torbay hospital bed served by the pitiful privacy of Oxford blue curtains propped up pillows providing last comfort His pallid skin remained..

This eerie silence will not last as dawn brings milky smoke-like mist to haunt our river, hide the view. A host of ghosts are sweeping through. ..

(river musings)

More river musings, and yes this has happened at lock gates :)

(observing the newly hatched chicks on the river )

(off the cuff writing)

(my reflections age 8) (archives)

(reworking of an archived poem) Beth age 7

(Boating muses)