Fly 8-Ing Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Fly 8-Ing
Figuratively waltzing in my head as I imagine flying a Cessna into atmospheres no one else can find.
Looping loops, enticing clouds to do the same.
Fly 8-ing through skies of blue, chasing clouds from within this body of imagination.
Floating above the ocean, watching it wave to me with frosty white arms, billowing pillow-like waves of ebbing and flowing tides.
Wiping tears of joy, overflowing from my soul as I continue to fly, hitting the sun and moon of my imagination with clouds pushing by.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 12:47:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
