White Violets Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
White Violets
White violets coming to mind, pure and lovely,
straight from heaven's gardens.
Aroma filling my mind as I watch clouds outside,
floating in time with music being played on a piano.
Merrily filled with feeling, keys touched lovingly
by a pianist, an elderly gentleman.
Sharing his talent with us all as we have lunch in
the dining room.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/6/2024 5:54:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
