Tissue Of Our Souls Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Morning sun burning upon earth, showering flowers and
getting them to shyly blossom out in meadows and fields
every day.

A single occupation that enriches all of earth and every
passer-by who looks upon their beauty, leaving memories
of them in gardens of the mind.

Life taking every turn into forests of loneliness, always
soothing and tempting tears of love to be wiped away by
the tissue of our souls in readiness of another day.