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Compartment 114
Compartment 114
Whispers At Dawn

Whispers At Dawn

A Poem by Chris Shaw

gentle rain falls on a mackintosh day
drips sedately, rolls then disappears

drizzle on glazed glass, cleanses
half heartedly plays with a pane

takes a journey in quiet thought
each raindrop caught like a stitch

knitted, soft white wool, fingers
caress rows of purl, plain, purl, plain

high neck sweater taking shape
on long patient alloy needles

a measure of love for one who
died young, passed prematurely

breathe in.....breathe in deep .....
count to ten....and then again ........

memories from the vaults of wish
wish you were here, wish i, wish i could

have one more kiss ................

© 2020 Chris Shaw


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Featured Review

Water has memory , every raindrop ever felt reminds me of the people there are in my life , how lucky i am to have them , As u said each raindrop is a vault of treasured memories , with each moment , passes water diffuses into the air and falls as raindrops reminding us of the times that have passed , The fresh air , the earthen smell of the dirt becomes the atmosphere of that profound memory , Thanks for this chris , its a touching read

Posted 2 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

2 Years Ago

Thank you Kathy for saying how my words spoke to you. I appreciate that. All good wishes.
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Reviews

So many amazing images projected by these descriptive verses Chris. As the rain falls upon our rooflights these words describe it well and the french doors on a blustery rain swept day. Then you take us into the cold of loss as well as weather. Lovely in its sadness.

Posted 3 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Chris Shaw

3 Years Ago

Thankyou John for your lovely review and the encouragement. Most appreciated.

Chris

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Added on November 9, 2020
Last Updated on November 9, 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..

Writing
My love My love

A Poem by Chris Shaw



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