RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Covering eyelets of evening, shading corresponding
lights, rotating and pivoting with changing high-
lights of remembering.
...

Many guests filling home with talk and Tibetan
culture.

A beautiful dog, tail wagging, hoping to greet
...

Clouds strewn haphazardly across the sky with no other
purpose than to catch my eye.

Gazing out at the deep light blue sky, misery penetrates
...

Leaves blowing haltingly in the whispering wind,
why are leaves bending the air with their
unknowingness? What do they have to gain?
...

Quickly calculating time periods in measures of music
as they are taken up into avenues of understanding
instantaneously, noting the importance of continuing
to write rapidly in order to do so.
...

Carrying me forth into volumes of music, popping
constantly into mansions of wisdom where all of
intelligence is acquired and kept safely.
...

Creatively instigating new avenues of intellect, watching
exciting new ideas come about.

A mysterious sounding whisper is fulfilling interior
...

Racing melodies riding alongside of intellect's soul,
traipsing through harmony and a perfunctory rhythm.

Standing alone in the forest of imagination, watching
...

A face full of whiskers hanging about
doing nothing much, but looking around.

Little white ones and little black ones
...

So solemn an object, to death do not defy,
for it will leave you by the side.

For the fool cannot forgive, nor the wise,
...