Brain Food Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Rolling down streets full of cars,
taking people into realms of other dimensions,
feeling their ways in foggy mists of yesterday's memories.

Being aloft for moments in time, never being spoken about,
only set in rhymes one after another.
Catching phrases of intellect as they fall quickly into
tasty morsels of food for the brain.

Sounding boards of talent are always turned on and focused
intuitively on basics of life.

Entering depths of abandoning detachment, awaiting the
inevitable pressure of lonely emptiness in it's fathomless
pits of hell.

Other sides of the thought are being entertained and put to
sleep in astounding avenues of becoming verses.
Only awakening when the poems are being read by one other
than who's written it in depths of poetical mysteries.

Solace placating every idea as it rests in plentiful ease
of forsaken essences of the past.
No one any wiser as it sails around, never alighting in any
cove of purpose.