RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Reaching into rock and roll music, letting it guide our steps
into and out of notes and measures, enjoying tones as they ex-
plode into the atmosphere so beautifully without effort.
...

Waltzing along on twinkle toes, like a two year old little
girl wanting to dance like a ballerina, holding joy in
bubbles of exhilaration.
...

Rushing down the tracks and into mountains, hearing that
irascible whistle blowing its lonesome tones for everyone
to hear.
...

Silence spreading across a mind preoccupied with interior
feelings and emotions, trying to untangle them without
much luck so far.
...

Mind straightening to attention in measures of melodies
and harmonies now being played right out loud upon a
western stage tonight.
...

Solemn sounding, tasting like wines of sadness that have
been hiding deeply within, not daring to think for it may
cause tears to fall for you, my love.
...

Sashaying closely into the night, feeling our love circling
both of us interiorly, minds open only to the music and its
rhythms as we listen and dance in effervescent strobe lights.
...

Flowing gently like a trickling stream, rhythms creating
pathways for us so we can escape from the mundane, routine
facets of this life.
...

Nothing like a band of cowboys singing well into the night,
expressing our feelings thoroughly and succinctly in front
of everyone here at the Wagon Yard.
...

Jovial and laidback in an Arizona country-western bar and
restaurant, never once having a beer, not liking alcohol,
having pitchers of root beer to sate our thirst.
...