Beautiful Morning Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Branches hanging low, directly in my line of vision,
every time I look up from my writing, gently brushing
my mind with their delicate beauty.

Somnolent ideas, lazily striding about in no rush to
be expressed right now.

Just above the hill is a small lake, stocked with fish
where my husband and Granddaughter are fishing, both
patiently waiting for a bite upon their lines.

Chasing pigeons into the air, a fantastic picture of
her running among them, as they are soaring above her.

Flying in a circular direction, while she runs and laughs
joyfully, feeling the power of youth within her.

Such a wonderful and peaceful scene, touching my mind
permanently as I continue to write poetry, sitting alone
beneath the trees.

A beautiful morning to have a birthday part for a nine
year old.