![]() InbetweenersA Poem by Chris Shaw![]() Imagination takes a hike![]()
Who walks this way, displacing stones,
whose shadows shiver through my bones, along this tow path to the lock? In my mind's eye, I see them all, an army strolling, short and tall of souls departed years before. They move with steps of quiet grace, their silken dresses edged in lace, while suited, booted, collared men link arms with loves, protecting them. Young children feed old crusts to ducks, in breeches, caps and floral prints. On Sunday morning I can see as ghosts appear, so crystal clear. In technicolour they stand out, alive they are, alive to me. Regard their faces, watch them laugh as they meander down that path which leads to Sonning's Saxon church. Yet in between the living lurk who have no time to visit church, whose presence momentarily, I can not feel, I do not see.
© 2018 Chris ShawFeatured Review
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Added on May 17, 2018Last Updated on May 17, 2018 Author![]() Chris 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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