To Victoria Neale, Where Ever She Be
Victoria Neale is a true Nomad.
She walks the land on well feathered paths.
Her stride is long and bold.
Her journey wide eyed and full.
Yes, she is a mother - of children and invention.
Takes them where ever she roams.
Along the way she is not just seen,
people take notice of Victoria Neale.
Because the true Nomad is rare and on the wane.
She walks between seasons
tracing the arc of the sun
where open sky invites all those who dare.
Where those who dare skip like stones on a marble pond.
She does not follow the migration.
The wake in the prairie grass is her own.
She is driven by the solution to mystery.
There is always time for a tale.
Her story grows taller by the year,
time grows shorter by the day.
And when the sky finally closes in,
when the feathers are trampled stiff
and the marble worn away,
Victoria Neale the Nomad
will go beyond the hills time has made
and rest in the shade of grace.
poem by Ronald Shields
Added by Poetry Lover
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