Chaplin sits at the Door
The one and only movie star, that show silence is golden
Chaplin sits at the Door
Upon the door, where tales unfold,
Sat Chaplin, silent but bold.
His bowler hat tipped just so,
A figure that we all know.
A moment paused, a world at bay,
One soul adrift in a silent play.
No words were needed, none were said,
The silence spoke of dreams ahead.
So on that door, he sat in time,
A silent star, a life in mime.
A figure of wonder, calm and still,
The world his in movies, his art, his will.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (1)
What a wonderful tribute. Excellent poem.