RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Stashing rhythm carefully within folded synapses of my brain. Selecting each particle and soothing it slowly, methodically, into subconscious visions held up to mirrors, blending with admirable beauty.
Never leaving anything to invisibility - rousting images into being as each word stealthily moves forward.
RoseAnn V. Shawiak's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Stashing Rhythm by RoseAnn V. Shawiak )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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