RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Wind caressing my body, heightening my sensitivity to
feelings and things around me whether or not I can see
them.
...

Steadily walking with the spirits of my death, letting them
lead me into the depths of their blackness, just to explore
what they have in store for my future.
...

Lying there on the bed, tired out from a day's work, my
love reaching out across the room, touching him gently
so as not to wake him up.
...

Life is surreal, it is like a painting that I am always
painting and adding to it.

Knowing fears, doubts, happiness and joy as it looks out
...

Heartstrings being played to the satisfaction of intellect
as I bow to rhythms of integrity.

Playing to inner rhythms, succinctly transferring knowledge
...

Listening from right to left at rhythms combining themselves
in this mind, enlivening spirits whenever saddened by plights
in life.
...

Intrepid mysteries piling up at the doorway to intellect,
giving auras of insightful beauty.

Tantalizing memories are echoing about, wanting to be
...

Cherishing knowing that comes unexpectedly into aspects
of my mind, becoming accolades written in poetry.

Always stepping quietly and expertly into palisades and
...

Slowly emerging as if from a dream of long ago,
wakefully transmitting it today.

Pictures forming, waving, haunting memories,
...

Wanting love, nothing less will do, hoping to find a
trail that will lead me into an interior beauty of
contemplation.
...