RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Twirling into future impressions, forming and creating
newer versions as I move on without truly undertaking
to live my life as before.
Living has been filled with many scores and entities
...

Beautiful scenery passes through this mind of beautiful access,
taking thoughts indelibly on travels with pleasure and anticipation.
Noting everything along pathways of adjacent spirituality,
picking up spirits of kindness, embroidering all senses
...

Silently dancing within, repairing life's shortcomings, aspiring to heaven once again.
Whirling inside, feeling free, stepping lightly, no remorse, no tears.
Life gallantly being lived, love surrounding days of old.
Melancholy death lying sweetly in a bed of grass, awaiting the time it will be awakened to steal across evening tides, gathering withered petals - aged - in it's cloak.
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Flying high, soaring to inner rhythms, holding them close, forever hoping to travel distant horizons with them.
Touching heart-strings of eternal youth, beckoning from yesterday's shores, totally immersed in an energy beyond realms of earthly life.
Circular paths of beauty, climbing higher into space, taking with
them - all inclusive - life of yesterday's imagination.
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Details flowing and ebbing with tides of life,
lying at times horizontally in the sand,
concentrating on the quality all of us strive
for daily.
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Mind stranded above in clouds of white and gray matter.
Unrealistic, unperturbed, listening to imagination soar
above in complete freedom.
Following lines of thought to new ideas, coagulating and
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Lights traveling, illuminating interior feelings,
pushing them into the foreground, to be recognized
and held gently as life glides over our beings in
silent hope and peace.
...

Diamonds of thought twinkle throughout my brain,
selecting themselves in never-endingly new forms,
expressions and images.
Becoming the poems, stories, and themes they finally
...

Air above me hung like silken lace upon a bridal gown.
It's touch left me without a hint of life untold and
to a memory left still and cold.
What has happened on this hearth of dry and bloody
...