Left Over Poetry Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Sun shining gently upon my brow, warming the inner side of
imagination.

Illuminating it's joyous aspirations, tickling inspiration,
helping it to flow, overflowingly into my brain, where it
can be seen and written into wonderful words of poetry.

Standing on their own merit, solitarily beautiful, striking,
piercing, unequaled in history, awaiting their time after I
have fled from this world and become one with the next.