RoseAnn V. Shawiak Books Poems

Silently, secretly, music flows throughout my mind
and body.
Rhythm walking with me always, physically and
writingly.
...

Resting on laurels of peaceful reminiscence, relaxing,
watching interior videos play automatically in leisurely
fashion.
...

Looking through many books written through the years,
finding pages of an entire lifetime spreading themselves,
out for all to see.
Yet, no one can tell where I've been or where I am now going.
...

Books of time being
written continuously in rhyme.

Measuring beats of my heart
...

Stepping into future shores of life, attempting to fit
styles unknown before.
Allowing a freedom and independence to form bonds with
my soul.
...

Delving deeply into subconscious dreams, taking whatever
I find and placing it in books of my mind.
Noticing quiet sorrow always standing idly by, taking
part in every facet of thought as tears glisten down
...

Rushing into folds of yesterday's memories, exploring,
feeling, and loving energy that was had even back then.

All yesterdays compiled into books along with albums of
...

Feeling pleasure coming through echoes of musical latitudes,
touching upon rhythms of this earthly life, watching as it
dwindles through the years.
...

Slower music now being played, people waltzing together,
minds thinking and dreaming of the past when so much
younger than today.
...

Looking into books and pages of dreams throughout life,
wanting to make them become reality so they can be used,
touched and embarked upon while still alive and vibrant.
...

Gently I soothe integrated images with visions of yesterday.
Longing to go back in time, basking in the love of grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins - all of family.
Holding onto meanings, writing them legibly into books of thoughtful poetry.
...

Singing songs from memory, giving lasting impressions that will always be available in senior years.
Looking back, remembering the lovely times and bountiful moments filled with artistic grace and beauty, serenely pictured in books filled with my images.
Painting murals along the way with written words, bringing to mind all the moments of pleasure mixed with sadness, loneliness, abandonment and noticeable joy of serenity.
Across the years, finding measures of happiness coinciding with whatever life happens to give me.
...

Rhythms striking this mind, fulfilling landscapes of
intellect as they beat incessantly against my brain.

Forfeiting nothing, being given strength of another
...

Reading books in my mind,
illuminating wisdom of the
years already passed on.
...

Slowly tracing backwards into atmospheres of ancient
pilgrimage, a time of great learning and practice
of written words.
...

Bound by prisons of people who think they know better than
I, pathways I must travel.

There aren't any shortcuts or roundabout ways to live life,
...