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About
I walked your grey, stone floors from nave to Poet's Corner,
Careful to sidestep graves of poets long revered.
I felt a deep whispering in my heart, I shivered in my warmth,
Was that Tennyson I heard softly calling?
Early winter sunlight streamed through the Rose Window, gently
Dust particles fell like teardrops in muted rainbow hues...
From an early age, Sharon King-Jeffers has read and been inspired by all forms of poetry. Now she once again provides a glimpse into her heart and mind as she lyrically reflects on life, love, loss, and everything in between.
Careful to sidestep graves of poets long revered.
I felt a deep whispering in my heart, I shivered in my warmth,
Was that Tennyson I heard softly calling?
Early winter sunlight streamed through the Rose Window, gently
Dust particles fell like teardrops in muted rainbow hues...
From an early age, Sharon King-Jeffers has read and been inspired by all forms of poetry. Now she once again provides a glimpse into her heart and mind as she lyrically reflects on life, love, loss, and everything in between.