Flying Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Flying
Like a mosquito flying up above, through the clouds, with wheels hanging down like hands of a mosquito.
Flying free and higher than a bug, my secret love is to fly always in the sky.
Flying is a secret passion and not mosquito-type at all.
Just flying high in a plane - that's all.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: clouds,passion,sky
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8/28/2026 2:27:13 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
