RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Mike, a retired newsman, sharing his life and memories
with a room full of elderly people.
Touching their lives with music of his mind, creating
miracles from whispers of heaven.
Singing gently to a guitar in the background, holding
us all up to words flowing from heaven above.
Filtering beauty of untold grace to those around him,
filling eyes with tears of yesterday, as memories are
being relived again this moment in time.
(10: 52 a.m. - 12/09/08)
RoseAnn V. Shawiak's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Mike by RoseAnn V. Shawiak )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
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Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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