RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Loving strands itself on islands without anyone to hold or talk to.
Desolate years of disappointment and loneliness wreck havoc on relationships, tearing them asunder with jealousy, hatred, cheating.
Where once was love of silk, satin and lace, now stoops an aged pile of rags, ruminating in dumps of life's lost love.
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Religiously listening with an interior awakening of God-given talents, placing moments in moving spaces of articulate innuendos.
Ebbing and rising with emotion, tides running, overflowing, drowning.
Touching above, clouds of hope, with an unending supply of architectural language.
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Lonely days ahead, awakening past dreams with tearful memories, touching parts of my heart with their sorrow.
Listening to hear your voice, never being able to talk again like we used to.
Trembling with grief, yet I remember with joy the happiness and good times we've had together.
Focusing on all the good memories, feeling past hugs touch my soul with love, as I endure this life without you.
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Signaling for attention, racing along roads towards imagination's avenues of mystery and mystic proportions.
Climbing aboard trains bound for poetical lyrics, grasping meanings and definitions of human nature as I continually write of thought and it's presence in my life.
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People watching, noticing the revelries of joy as they gather expressions across the board.
Drinking, laughing, talking, having a good time and helping a good cause with taste and poise, alighting upon faces throughout the RockBar.
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Losing myself in a mire of obstacles, overwhelming me with their diversity, leaving me in a quagmire of disbelief.
Transcending all the pitfalls is difficult, taking away energy and fortitude, giving me instead, a hopeless form of prayer.
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Loud drumming singing to me in harmony with my mind.
Succinctly taking many motions to heights of everlasting glory.
Benefiting everyone who will be touched with the spiritual side of the gifts they will be receiving on Christmas.
Many smiles will be spread around, thanks to all the people who helped the United States Marines give toys for tots.
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Sojournly watching evening suns set upon aging horizons, taking moments of my life with them.
Tacitly taking revolutions around reality as I write about it daily.
Traveling, taking journeys alone into foggy realms never clearly seen before, and now with maturity, are becoming concise, details stabbing at my mind intensely day and night.
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Chopping in real time, invigorating my soul, feeling the melodies enter my imagination with verve and energy.
All the ambition of wisdom gathering itself in combinations I can easily write to.
Senses tingling, being disturbed in good ways as I am enlightened and led down pathways of entertainment.
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Creating pockets of interpretation in crevices of my mind, taking me along the universe's outstanding avenues of intellect.
All motions in rhythm are filling and emptying me with an exercise of energy for my spirit's soul.
Exciting sounds taking me for a ride as I elicit patterns and designs of creativity, to be seen from above and used as instruments of forgiveness through parallels of logical conclusions.
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