Poems by Victoria Krylova




                                                                                     &nbsp    &nbsp    &nbsp    &nbsp Night Owl




       While the world is asleep,
         dreaming of busy days,
         in the crystal night
         hides an owl.

         Quiet, the moon’s finger stroking its wings,
         lost deep in thought,
         half-watching the scampering shadows below,
         smarter than the world knows.

         Friend of the misty night,
         sleep will come,
                                                                                       but later, much later.
                                                                                       For the owl, darkness is life.






Limerick


I once was so sick, was so ill
that I ate a pill and some dill.
I canned my cat
and swallowed my mat
until I got rid of my chill.



About the Author

Victoria Krylova is 16 years old although these poems were written when she was 12 years old. She is homeschooled and in tenth grade. She enjoys swimming, gymnastics, writing, reading, feeding birds, ballet, scrapbooking and cooking. Her favorite subjects are science and writing and she loves Jesus. She lives in Tennessee, USA.

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