RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Sun shining brightly white on several chosen
mountains, looking like white snow.
All around and above them other mountains are
hidden in darkness, casting shadows about the
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Weeping silently as a willow tree hiding
alongside a lake of natural beauty.
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Walking into the darkness of my soul, not seeing a thing in the ebony blackness.
Knowing there is plenty to see as I feel the whispers telling me of the senses being awakened as I walk past.
Traipsing slowly down garden pathways, smelling the scents of poetical blossoms exploding from the end of my pen.
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Picking up on a beat falling in my pathway, treasuring it's appearance as I placed it in a composition of poetical beauty.
Showcasing it in a song for everyone to hear and find within their hearts later when alone.
Thinking of times gone past with winds of fate, blowing the years into dust of another future beyond us all.
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Resuming the pace of an early morning run, following my inner tendencies as I go in any direction freedom chooses to take me.
Always, looking forward, yet taking back roads just to be funny and throw others off track.
Not wanting anyone knowing which direction I choose or take to continue my solo journey of poetical musing.
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Western-style of entertainment being sung in a karaoke atmosphere by a variety of people and range of voices.
Everyone enjoying the music, some even dancing country-western style to it.
A reminiscent encounter from younger days when I used to go dancing when single.
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Going home within my mind, following the routes shown me from childhood.
Knowing every turn as photographic images keep me on track, never losing my way no matter the time of day.
Sincerely hoping to stay among all the memories of yesterday.
Moving in directions of the future.
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Lonely echoes hitting the canyon walls of my soul, drifting into the writing that I love to express.
An empty feeling surrounding every tone and rhythm being celebrated with a generous appreciation from many others in the world.
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An empty loneliness has penetrated inside my heart strings and is plucking them unmercifully with a hurting tirade of syllables.
Rejecting the ecstasy of tomorrow's picturesque scenes, feeling abject loneliness filling my being with it's awful feelings.
Leaving me bereft and alone in an empty corridor far from home.
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