RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Orange sherbert clouds scattered length-wise across my mind's skyway.
A bluened sky, touching tips of mountain tops, setting a beautiful backdrop for a poem.
Expressing joy, fulfilling inner solitude, beginning every day anew with hope and prayer in my heart.
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Rocks lying about, listening to water fountains, reminding them of their own times at home where the water used to flow over them.
Reminiscing about the call of mother nature when little stones gathered about the grown-ups.
Always hearing stories of how elders were uprooted and torn from their habitats just to adorn some human being's gardens.
Giving some people beauty, who cannot make it into depths of forests, rivers, and creeks.
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Strengthening ties of all yesterday's friends, trying to become and start over again.
Leaving emotions lying on the floor of olden days when they couldn't become what it was they wanted.
Tying all their insides into clay, that could never be molded to suit anyone's personality or endeavors in life.
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Never taking the plunge, forgetting what others may want and leaving them to fend for themselves.
Taking steps, following all the beats of tonight's rhythm as it is balanced on rims of glasses filled with beer.
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Succeeding on pathways of future destinies,
shining intensely on graves standing years of time.
Often beguiling wisdom with energies of taciturn
involvement on circles of ages beyond.
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Lively adjuncts of others
bring some joy in lives.
At times turning them around,
leading them on new paths and
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Cantering with inner rhythm, reliving images of the past through musical reverberations, anticipating visions of careful beauty, interiorly signaling all principles of definite meaning.
Placing chords into and upon sheets of music held closely in mind, treasured for all time.
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Gray shadow clouds crossing my mind, taking me to introspection and divine will.
Sating prayerful times of sadness as I covered up emotional loss of words in hiding.
Climbing inside patterns, wallowing in grief's demise, getting accustomed to it's fit for life.
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Quietly saddling up to go into deepest forests, camping in the high country, alone, wanting to be hidden away inside the wilderness.
Taking precautions to not let anyone know where I was going to be.
Sensing all of nature, becoming the person I am inside, filled with beautiful music, poetry and art, contemplating each one in their own time.
Not leaving any stone unturned as I call to the soothing whispers within.
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Sensitive emotions curdling inside,
afraid to be shown to the world,
because they may be made fun of and
feelings would be hurt - then the
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