RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Casually settling into a mellow melody being played upon the stage, listening intently, never wanting this night of musical rhythms to end.

Just wanting to be a particle of their rhythms as the band continues to play, listening and writing poetry incessantly throughout the night.
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Music rapidly racing as if galloping down a race track somewhere in time, taking this poet straight down steps of measures in music.

Carefully tempting this poet throughout life, opening up from the inside out and back again, mind and intellect deciding what to listen to and write into poetry.
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Mind walking along edges of fast-paced rhythms, remembering yesterdays when playing with the band and having such a really great time.

Especially when playing solos in pages of music that were favorites of this mere poet way back then, it's crazy how life proceeds through the years, isn't it?
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Running overtime, listening incessantly to musical rhythms and writing poetry, never fading or giving up, just keep on roaming in melodies as they keep coming one after another.

Such a special gift given from God alone, always thanking Him for the talent and gifts He's given to this mere poet, using every one of them throughout the years.
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Romancing mind and intellect with energetic and loving rhythms of love songs from time to time through evenings of listening to music.

This mere poet loving to keep time alive in one song after another, tears lying upon this pillow night after night because musical rhythms remind me of loved ones who've passed on.
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Reading music even as a band plays it at the same time, only this mere poet doesn't have a sheet of music before her.

Knowing the notes being played, swaying to music as it takes this poet along banks of melodies being played.
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Looking inwardly, finding feelings with their heads down, bent over in a deepened sadness that cannot be tamed for some reason in life.

Leaving it all within, having no reasons for life being struck down in questions forthcoming in the night, yet the sadness keeps one always looking for answers that're never spoken aloud.
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One person alone, looking quietly into the future, having no reprieve in life except in musical rhythms as they take this mere poet straight into their interior depths.

There they're held in a warm embrace throughout the night, holding onto empty bridges in life, hoping for new places to walk into while writing poetry and listening to music.
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Looking within broken dreams that have been dispersed through the years, their pieces never able to be picked up or repaired for there; s no way to fix abuse that's been put upon a woman.

There having never been a single solitary reason for the abuse in this vacated world, living in a life filled with sorrow, sadness, grief, and emptiness always.
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Time has never been a luxury to this mere poet, but it has always been filled with the enlightenment of musical rhythms that tease and enchant this poet through the years, never leaving sorrow along paths of a lonely life.

Having only one love in this life, one that includes music and its rhythms, never ever walking away from its perfect essence while walking throughout avenues of a life spent in writing poetry and listening to music at the same time.
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