Ode to Phylicia
With both hands held
tightly to the rail,
you looked over the room
like a land baron overseeing
his vineyard.
From your cradled space
you paced from one end
to the other, unaided;
your countenance plastered
with self-reliance
and determination.
This was long time before
you played Tinkerbell
or made the Honor Roll
but a father could see
your brilliance gleaming.
poem by Buxton Shippy
Added by Poetry Lover
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