Notwithstanding, elements of time disappear before me,
reappearing in rhymes of sort.

Distinguished lines, standing on their own, developing
ideas and thoughts on merits of inner awakenings.

Colliding with extremes of life, at opposite ends of
a mind, contrarily setting new images to block the view.

Antagonizing the existence of imagination, causing it
to delve into unexplained and unexplored denizens hiding
within.

Blooming into ecstatic byways, creating a paradise for
imaginings to become anew, like diamonds gently falling
in quiet succession from this mind's hand.

Selecting, rearranging, gathering all jewels into rhyming
poetry, to be read sometime in the future by another person
after I am dead.

RoseAnn V. Shawiak

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/gathering-poetry/