Privacy Only A Writer Of Poetry Can Crave Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Somnolent praises rising in moonlight, walking away,
not feeling worthy of them, only writing poetry and
minding my own business.

Not wanting to be interrupted or interfered with,
not liking to turn from musical rhythms for they
take this mind into an enchanted land.

A land where intellect strolls through good moments
and memories that've been spread thinly throughout
this life, wishing for the privacy that only a writer
of poetry can crave.