White Violets Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
White Violets
White violets coming to mind, pure and lovely,
straight from heaven's gardens.
Aroma filling my mind as I watch clouds outside,
floating in time with music being played on a piano.
Merrily filled with feeling, keys touched lovingly
by a pianist, an elderly gentleman.
Sharing his talent with us all as we have lunch in
the dining room.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/24/2026 10:23:27 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
