Shades Of Bland

Shades Of Bland

A Poem by Chris Shaw

smokey grey bleeds into a grim day
far away a horizon line defined
by a deeper shade of sea

no silver ribbons gleam on breakers
not a streak of colour in sight
of sea water's wall

sail boats skim surface as mist
rolls in on a sudden whim, in ghostly
eerie trails

encroaching with its flimsy flying
wedding veils, eyes ever searching
pockets form, swirling twirling

in she glides at pace as though in a
race, no ferries will chase today's
white crested waves

insipid neutral shades of dull
hulls and sterns of boats obscured
by hazy creep

yet there's comfort in grey moments
confined to slate grey dreams
claustrophobia wrapped in a wool

© 2020 Chris Shaw


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Featured Review

Grey was my adolescent self's colour of choice. It was comforting to me beyond the imagination of those that saw drabness and gloom, on on end of the spectrum, and sartorial dignity on the other. But the real revelation is that is also brought on a familiar claustrophobia. Quite a profound line of thinking along the lines of this poem. Thanks for sharing, Chris.  

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Thanks for your thoughts here Frederick. Like you I too found comfort in the greys and still do on o.. read more



Reviews

I could see the fog rolling in...erasing all the scenery as it did. No ships dare to dock in such weather. It would be foolhardy. Your words are so descriptive, Chris. Just wonderful! Lydi**

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Dear Lydi**, so pleased you enjoyed this coastal scene as the sea mists swept in. Quite something. T.. read more
Grey was my adolescent self's colour of choice. It was comforting to me beyond the imagination of those that saw drabness and gloom, on on end of the spectrum, and sartorial dignity on the other. But the real revelation is that is also brought on a familiar claustrophobia. Quite a profound line of thinking along the lines of this poem. Thanks for sharing, Chris.  

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Thanks for your thoughts here Frederick. Like you I too found comfort in the greys and still do on o.. read more
There is something beautiful about grey, the wispy waves, the mist obscuring the boats coming in; It's eerie in a way, but quiet, peaceful, as if the boats are protected by a a blanket, not bare but safe...."slate grey dreams" colorless dreams of nesting in a cocoon...
Lovely write Chris.
Best, B

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Pleased you enjoyed the grey day and I thank you Betty for leaving such a thoughtful review.
.. read more
(in she glides at pace as though in a race, no ferries will chase today's white crested waves) What a beautiful picture this created in my mind! I used to live near the ocean and this brought back happy memories for me. Thank you. ~Sharon

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Thank you Sharon for leaving a lovely review. Hope all is good in your world.

Chris
The last stanza really speaks to me :

"yet there's comfort in grey moments
confined to slate grey dreams
claustrophobia wrapped in a wool" : there is comfort in the grey, a blurry state, not directly black or white. The grey blur is like claustrophobia, squishing us, yet making us comfortable and cozy like we are wrapped in wool. Thanks for sharing!

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Thank you Aura. Pleased that this write meant something to you. Glad you stopped by.

.. read more
Aura

1 Year Ago

The pleasure is all mine!
I agree! There is comfort in shades of grey. Not too hot or cool. Intense or bland. Grey could become black, or white however we want to push it. But why when we're in neutral we're not using gas.

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Thank you Bill. There are times when the neutral colours are all we need. Pleased you stopped by.read more
What wonderful descriptions of the gray and sultry sea. I've been out there when it's like that. You nailed it with "claustrophobia wrapped in wool". Very nice write. F.

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Thank you Fabian for your very encouraging review. Yes there is much beauty in greys. Have a good da.. read more
This reminds me of holidays spent in Filey, on the Yorkshire coast. My father had a static caravan on a site there, and my wife and I usually took our sons for a holiday there every summer, when they were young. A lovely place with a beautiful golden beach, but those sea frets and grey mists often crept in. Sometimes they totally obscured the sea. When that happened all we saw were shades of grey! Great memories though. A very well-written, atmospheric poem, Chris!

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Thank you so much Robert. You have taught me a new word - sea frets, never heard that expression bef.. read more
Well written expression of happy days. Very nice imagery. Thanks fir posting.

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

1 Year Ago

Thank you for stopping by Ranger. You are appreciated. All good wishes...

Chris
One of the best "shades-of-gray" poems ever written to show the sea on a bland day! It's pretty startling when a day is so utterly without color & you've captured that devastating look with intensity. I love how your imagery is so lively & imaginative, almost as if to juxtapose the dull dreary scene by painting it in a dynamic way (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

3 Years Ago

Thank you for dropping by and leaving such a great review Margie. All the best to you :)

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Added on October 23, 2020
Last Updated on October 23, 2020

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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