RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Hearing humming of music as it gathers and collects it-
self in this mind so effervescently and timely, passing
through tempos.
...

Easy listening while writing, rhythms turning about,
translating notes, tones, music, into poetry effort-
lessly both day and night, no holds barred.
...

Sitting here, looking up at a portion of ceiling
with holes, mirror-like images recording people
walking beneath them.
...

Listening to musical rhythms aligned just so in many
measures of notes, beats, rests and tempos, all are
bravely standing the test of time as years go past.
...

Running through this poetical mind and intellect
not disturbing anyone, silently listening to the
music on a C.D. player.
...

Above us on another floor, standing against a window
looking out, saddened by its plight, stuck indoors
instead of being outside with the rest of nature.
...

Children awakening in their adult lives, wondering
where life has gone, hiding leaving them bereft
without being able to experience what they had al-
ways dreamt of doing.
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Sweeping up pieces of our lives as we age, retire,
some dying or becoming debilitated, no hopes with-
in hiding or waiting to be reprieved in this life.
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Sparkles of music gain the attention of this musicinal
poet always being present in each measure of etudes,
symphonies and ballads ascribed to life.
...

Exercises in futility open our minds to other avenues
of thought that lie within our reach if we only think
outside the box.
...