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Victoria Riis Poem
Walking in and out of my day
I wonder why does it has to be this way.
What have I done all these years?
Who have I become?
Waiting for something or someone?
Working to provide a meal or two?
There is a time to write and to make
up for all that time, then all the work
comes down to a line, and then a word.
Copyright © Victoria Riis | Year Posted 2013
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Victoria Riis Poem
When the rush of the traffic slows to silence
I know the time without a clock.
What does the revolution of time mean?
Can't I sit without a reminder.
Yet, with or without time my body slopes.
It isn't a call, it is more or less a hope.
One of peace and joy of a soft pillow and sweet sleep.
Into the night, out of the day I pray...
it is repeated again and again for
another tomorrow and another day.
Copyright © Victoria Riis | Year Posted 2013
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Details |
Victoria Riis Poem
An ant's shadow,
a bird's beak.
A baby's grin,
a little dog's lick.
A poem gets read,
and so it is said
A poetry kiss is blown,
and thrown to its maker.
Copyright © Victoria Riis | Year Posted 2013
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