RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Thinking back, relaxing in a revelry of imagination, dreaming of extraordinary feats of intense soliloquy, pretending to be interested in a quality of interior essences.
Yet, really lolling around, waiting to find an escape into a land of wonder and fulfillment under the guise of writing.
Lilting tones, managing to filter into scores of notes as they play unendingly in my mind.
RoseAnn V. Shawiak's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Writing Guise 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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