RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Coverlets of innocence hiding the purity of children,
nothing interfering in any aspect, yet when a component
from an adult enters, a certain perversion happens to
the rectangular center of their horizons.
...

Succulent cacti right outside the door, filled with
rain water from the last storm that we had in Phoenix.

Beautiful, plump, blossoms decorating them in colors
...

Petals of roses drift slowly into fragrant piles of
thought, as breezes constantly blow them about,
clearing the way of imagination's subconscious whims.
Scattering across desert plains, beautiful images
...

I expect you to come, but you don't. I want you to be here, but you're not.
Life is an empty shell and I want to fill it back up, but I cannot.
You have always been the love in my heart and I want you to continue being just that, but you aren't.
I wait for you in all the usual places, watching for you, listening to hear your footsteps.
...

Pasting a picture of self over reality, hiding behind
it, wanting to pretend that I'm not really here right
now, hoping it will work, but not really counting on it.
...

Life's members falling aside, as the rest of life goes on.

Yellowed with age, crippled by disease, alone and feeling
abandoned now that the children have grown and moved away.
...

Thunder claps loudly and even in the darkness a light of
hope sparks itself once in a while.

Treasures filled with memories keep us going through life
...

Being rocked into the future, feeling it's different
atmosphere filling my being with absolute perfection.
...

Depths of coldness do not penetrate this being
when writing.

Being in the present, keeps me warm and full
...