Exploding Blossoms
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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Walking into the darkness of my soul, not seeing a thing in the ebony blackness.
Knowing there is plenty to see as I feel the whispers telling me of the senses being awakened as I walk past.
Traipsing slowly down garden pathways, smelling the scents of poetical blossoms exploding from the end of my pen.
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