RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Soft lighting, emitting tender senses of future sorrows.
Coming closer to interior emotions, filling every corner with expectant hope and grasping faith with a holiness unequaled on earth.
Stepping, and sliding, across widths of expansive boundaries, giving tones of musical beauty on chords of yesterday's remembrance.
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Rattling soundlessly along moments of spectacular tones, gathering each note and placing it against my mind.
Placing every beat and rest on musical scores, arranging and composing a lifetime of beauty as it comes into my being.
Picturing it all on inner screens, portraying moments of design and pattern into motion, moving along sideways at times.
Reveling in steps of particular notions and taking senses off into other worlds beyond me.
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Suddenly feeling totally alone, tears mounting in blue eyes, trying to spill out, expressing sadness.
Yet, I won't allow them to, as I sit and listen to saddened melodies touching my mind's heart with tender grief.
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Noting rhythms standing alone, listening to no other drummers.
A solo life, explicitly talented in realms of imagination's reality,
following circles of enlightenment, tangling with vocals of reticent memories.
Songs being written as they are silently composed and played, turning over constantly with overwhelming ferocity.
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Falling into lines, seeing canyons turn into abysses of failure, at times losing all hope and other times finding an excuse to keep on going.
Sorrow dwelling in every particle and atom of being, forever etched in grief.
Never placated, tenderly touching my heart with memories unglorified, saturated with tears, and crystalized in glass visions; fading colors of the rainbow as drops of sadness fall into depths of my heart.
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Riders, all ages, nationalities, shapes and sizes, coming together for pleasurable events and companionship.
Silent voices, mingling with the environment, tasting lasting morsels of life as it is ridden down natural highways for individual reasons.
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Knowing silhouettes are gathering in the background, mingling with past images, taking cover when memories rear their heads.
Trying not to focus on a realm of sadness, preferring to accumulate some joy and happiness for the time being.
Stilted conversation, never knowing what to say, yet, in writing, never at a loss for words, expressions and diction.
Longings filling every paragraph and somehow spreading truth throughout the poetical world.
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Milling around, watching people and their individual quirks; eating, drinking, talking, catching up on the news, whatever it may be.
Idle gossip flying about in regards to bike runs and charity do's.
All of one heart, taking life seriously, knowing it is shortened every moment.
Hoping to gather enough purpose before the last sunset buries them on a future horizon.
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Aggravating situations sometimes get out of hand
and fall at our feet.
Defeated and beaten by the very life that bore
them into being.
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