RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

One lone, small tree standing in the sunlight in
front of a wall, it's shadow crawling over limbs
bending to get over it.
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Calming music, helping me to relax and fall into a contemplative mirror where I can write and be myself.
Holding onto a beautiful serenity as I am serenaded by innate talents, pouring out words, leading me to wander along pathways of heaven.
Blue roses filling heavenly gardens with saddened prose, and filled with aged tears.
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Sauntering down earthen pathways, searching for truths hidden within nature and daily living.
Exploring further into abysses scattered throughout, never being expressed fully because of fears and doubts held closely inside.
Finding no honesty, checking out never-ending visisitudes, taking back stairs instead of minding their daily business and using their purposes for the good of mankind.
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Life is at a standstill, listening to what is all around in the atmosphere.
Taking it in, absorbing every feeling that comes, taking everything in stride.
Leaving nothing out, enjoying every second of nature and it's playfulness.
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Tender happiness dwells within for friendship beginning.
Soft echoes of memories sweet, pattering through the years.
Laughter, sorrow, hope in tomorrow.
Foreign now, the awkward pauses - lulls in conversation have
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Styling, bringing innovative creative processes into being, allowing a freedom of interior ideas to be expressed and written for anyone to see if they choose.
Sending beats into distant poetry, pulling it back and retracing steps into new pathways.
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Tasks fulfilling purposes in everyday life,
taking individuals to heights not normally
reached during their separate journeys.
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Orange sherbert clouds scattered length-wise across my mind's skyway.
A bluened sky, touching tips of mountain tops, setting a beautiful backdrop for a poem.
Expressing joy, fulfilling inner solitude, beginning every day anew with hope and prayer in my heart.
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Rocks lying about, listening to water fountains, reminding them of their own times at home where the water used to flow over them.
Reminiscing about the call of mother nature when little stones gathered about the grown-ups.
Always hearing stories of how elders were uprooted and torn from their habitats just to adorn some human being's gardens.
Giving some people beauty, who cannot make it into depths of forests, rivers, and creeks.
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Strengthening ties of all yesterday's friends, trying to become and start over again.
Leaving emotions lying on the floor of olden days when they couldn't become what it was they wanted.
Tying all their insides into clay, that could never be molded to suit anyone's personality or endeavors in life.
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