RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Prophets of doom stand around in dark corners,
professing ends of earth as if it's a bad thing.
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Evenings come upon me, darkness closes in with starlight
twinkling above me, sharing their faith with my soul.
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Listening to my heart speak in tongues of sorrow,
talking to God with soulful prayers.
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Wispy willows blowing through my mind, touching yesterday's
childhood with gentle thought and an elite finesse.

Taking care to not drop one iota or particle into caverns
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Perfectly simulated with brocaded ideas of old,
tenderly assimilated, altering as it does so,
images being written down in languages all their
own.
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Swirling beneath sorrow, drowning in a desert oasis,
left alone with meager thoughts to keep me company.
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Traveling into the sunshine, strutting down lanes
of reminders from yesterday.

Laced with extra time, feeling close to past memories,
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Melodies hugging my mind, helping me to taste life's
essence and bereavement.

Bittersweet, as it touches aspects of writing, showing
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Costly prices of existence turn inside out as they
co-exist with future horizons.

Figuring patterns hiding beneath coverlets of
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Sweet sadness pouring over young ones, flowing down their faces
in crystal teardrops.

No one wiping them free, they adhere to hearts, strangling them
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