RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

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691.
Riding Waves

Riding waves of ocean rhythms, beckoning all manner of euphemisms, while burying thought in energetic blocks
of space and time.
Entering all phases of beauty and resigning self to
outer thoughts as they arrange themselves in rows of picturesque landscapes, being ridden on horseback
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692.
Sharing Time

Family and friends are a wonderful pair when you have both in your life.
It's been an experience sharing time and space with you at the center.
I've enjoyed your company and conversation, but now it seems we'll be parting ways for awhile.
Know that you'll be missed, but I'll carry the memories of our time together with tearful joy.
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693.
Spheres Of Accountability

Sitting in blue jeans, legs crossed Indian style, like when younger.
Trying to be encased in thoughts of yesterday's childhood.
Accurate things are closely monitored in spheres of accountability, rolling around in crypts of deadened lives, nothing going on before me.
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694.
Politically Correct

Faulty thinking resurrecting a notion of healthy
prejudice in our lives.

So deep and hurtful it stands as a stepping stone
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695.
Forsaken Woods

Figuratively searching for life's meaning among the lost
and forsaken woods of earth.
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696.
Life's Memories

Sauntering through memories, enjoying some and turning away from others as they hurt and make me cry.
All of life is this way, joy and sadness, hand in hand, leading us to a final resting place where it will all be undone and nothing will ever matter again.
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697.
Tomorrow's Omens

Talented mosaics of intelligence centering on tabloids of
entertainment and entering musical scores of perfection.
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698.
Granddaughter's Eyes

Holding my youngest granddaughter, looking into her eyes
with a heart filled with love.
Seeing lights reflected in her eyes from a disco ball and
light, as she sat mesmerized in a trance.
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699.
Lonely Journey

Circling life, watching it's sorrow flow into my heart with
tears of tender grief from people who've died and left this
earth of mine bereft.
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700.
Reality's Coldness

Falling asleep, drifting into silent dreams, white with snow,
making me cold and shivering as if it was really the coldness
of reality.
Walking against the tides of yesterday's promises, taking all
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