RoseAnn V. Shawiak Forgotten Poems

Walking down well-worn trails of yesterday that have fallen away, leaving very little reminders of what used to be there.

Now many pages of history have been turned and forgotten as the world turns and falls into disarray well into the future.
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Waves rising rhythmically, soothing interior heartaches and pain, letting them soar into another place where all will be forgotten in measures of time.

Roaming, talking, never stopping in the mystical beauty of what's going into the universe, being waylaid while watching rhythms steadily tiptoeing away.
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Patterns being outlined in music and its rhythms, touching an
holding on, finding the essence and passion of an interior
strength that hangs on through it all.
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Sailing along edges of a forgotten shore, looking at the
tatters of what was left behind, scattered upon the floor
of this productive mind.
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Enjoying intimate reveries with musical rhythms, feeling
peaceful and contented, this soul joyful and focused on
goodness in this earthly life.
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Life never addressing issues of what death does to our loves
in life, thoughts lie lifeless and numb refusing to be brought
to life again except through our aging memories.
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Standing alone amongst forgotten and broken dreams,
thinking and wondering about all the yesterdays that
have fallen by the wayside.
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Throughout our lives we find a place to call our own,
a home, business, cardboard box, tent, whatever we can
afford.
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Having to go deep within, feeling sorrow and sadness
holding onto each other through loss in life of loved
ones.
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Riding down main street on horseback, giving an exclamation
of comfort as I fall into trails of lonely mountains.

Leading into their chambers I will eventually be made at
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Waiting to be forgotten on this lonely journey of life,
walking earth as if alone, the only one on this earth,
pretending that it doesn't matter.
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Breaking the fast of midnight, storm clouds brew upon the
horizon, scattering life-blood of reunion.

Staying power hinted at slightly, bowing to a greater force
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Forgotten lines of life being set fire to in years passing
into the future, watching as words are written and held to-
gether in meanings of love and passion.
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Forgotten lines of life being set fire to in years passing
into the future, watching as words are written and held to-
gether in meanings of love and passion.
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Dreaming of things other than reality right now, letting
desires have the freedom to be expressed totally through
imagination.
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Maureen is still touching lives through her memory
as it is passed on from Mom and friends.
Far-reaching effects stem from her life's work on
earth and her love for all things good and proper
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Saddened by recollections, stark and vivid, not
letting mind's eyes get any sleep.

Lofty, soaring, falling into caves of dementia
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Forgotten dreams sometimes reoccur, reminding you of
the times when you were open to their temptations.
Now, watching them again, reliving the feelings you
had back then, wanting to recapture the youth encased
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Wandering down lanes of trodden dreams,
picking and poking at their leftovers,
wondering what happened to them.
Why have they been forgotten?
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Beating drums in the background, leading us down lanes of yesterday.
Promises were made in haste and were soon forgotten, leaving empty thoughts scattered to the wind.
Total loss stranding everyone in abysses of darkness.
Forgotten, just like vows that were made when so much younger, never to return again to yesterday.
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Feelings reaching deeply into my soul,
watching their effects as they fill my heart with
sorrowful emotion and images of forgotten times of
existence.
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