RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Seeing a picture of our President, head decapitated and held in a
comediennes hands, with blood all over, thinking it was funny, she
is mentally depraved.
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Looking about, curious as to what is going on in the world,
wondering at the mess world governments have made of each
of our countries.
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Listening to melodies of time, nostalgic and at times saddened
from the past through loss and grief, yet somehow, they soothe
precious feelings of love holding onto me.
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Walking quickly down dirt paths alone, wanting to be away from
everyone, not knowing exactly where I was going, enjoying the
scenery and landscape totally.
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Looking out blue saddened eyes through windows open
to nature just outside, awaiting our presence to
come join in with soft gentle breezes.
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Watch out, here comes instant challenges and daring of a
bison, bulls and bucking horses as they perform in a rodeo
in back of Outlaws, the best bucking bar in the west.
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Listening to a song about failure of a man who left the love
of his wife because he wanted another.

A heart broken and torn apart with selfishness and lust, his
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Silence being a gift from heaven above, being attuned
to this mind while writing, a delightful pleasure that
never fades.
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Satin and sleek memories slide back and forth,
forming patterns of exact mathematical precision
and timeless efforts of thought.
Living on in memory, lives are always held closely
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Running through meadows of my mind, enjoying their
scents, sounds and images as I walk along pathways
of past innocence.
Recognizing landmarks as I pass by, remembering
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