Poem: wait the time

And so all sit and wait the time,
to hear the words that do not rhyme,
and find the news of what will be,
when hopes will come or hopes will flee,
and hear the words that may not chime.

Somewhere the hill they all do climb,
to find a sprig of hope not thyme,
and they do go and try to see,
and so all sit and wait the time.

And one does move much like a mime,
who does a show for just one dime,
no words are heard of pain or glee,
as eyes do look to the far sea,
and see the cliffs that are white lime,
and so all sit and wait the time.

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