RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Sitting back, watching trees and flowers growing on a picture
on the wall.
Beautiful orange blossoms hanging from the frame, spreading
their imaginative fragrance throughout a room of creativeness.
Reaching heavenward each day, concentrating on a natural way
of life, and it's silent, haunting melody.
RoseAnn V. Shawiak's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Haunting Melody by RoseAnn V. Shawiak )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
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