Bouquets Of Sorrow Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Traveling across the world in my mind, taking in sights
I may never see once I have died.

Sorrow blinded by the beauty of a mountainous desert,
rising to meet me in a cloudy afternoon sky.

Or rain falling silently upon arid floors in a noon
time sun.

Enjoying peaceful ideas, flourishing in an array of
flower gardens, awaiting their turn to become bouquets
in someone's living room or by a hospital bed, proclaiming
love in a vase of life-giving essence of beauty.