Willoh Theresa Poems

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When prospect sinks into night
When fell the all autumn leaves
and ice be thee warmth,

I'D Swivel My Foot

and if the world weren’t bad;
I’d swivel my foot and smile a smile that was good,
and if the trees never spoke;
I’d swivel my foot and cry a cry that was sad,

I Wish I Am

I am a child on a swing,
I am a mountain, way up high
The wind when it blows
A cloud in the sky


I can go wherever is there for want though I do not have
I may wander here and there and back again, again
But I do not see the waterfall or the willow tree sway,
nor the white sand of paradise or the mother bird’s way.

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