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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Green Peas at Stake
#260195 added October 6, 2003 at 1:31am
Restrictions: None
My Shadow
My shadow,
trailing behind me
in geometric shapes,
daring
to interrupt the light,
feeling not cherished.

At times, it sways
out of sight
to thwart off
onlookers.
Yet, then again,
it scans ahead
uneasily,
like a presentiment.

The higher the sun
the more it shortens,
with a devious tilt,
akin to miserly violets
on a mountain path,
veiled inside
purple shades,
hiding their fragrance.

I relish the piquancy
of its many ways,
for my shadow throws its net
steadily,
shrugging off dimensions,
acting sassy,
as if to say
it doesn’t care.
I guess,
it’s afraid
of fading from view
and dying unloved.


© Copyright 2003 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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