RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Sounds of music bring me to my knees, begging for mercy,
wanting to rest a while.
It's never to be, as rhythm plays me into the atmosphere,
taking me to treasures unfolding from every note, leading
into mysterious interludes of magical environments.
Lighting pathways as I come closer, never turning back,
falling inward into chasms of beautiful landscapes that
have been reserved.
Thanking all that befalls me in fascinating thought.
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Comments about this poem (Mysterious Interludes 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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