RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Standing by the wayside, letting life pass me by, taking
time and letting it sift through my fingers, never being
held or molded like clay.
...

Down beating in life, tapping inane properties, wanting to
make them productive at last in one way or another, sep-
arating fibers and particles through equations.
...

Laying tones on top of one another like bricks, making a wall
between others and myself, wanting to contemplate, be away
from people to do what I need to.
...

Being schooled in a tremendous amount of music and rhythms,
caressing and hugging every note being played within my
mind.
...

Rushing into the afternoon, mind wide open, racing to the
finish line as fast as rhythms will take me, loving the
speed, going with it's beats.
...

Realizing the beauty felt in life, hoping to give it justice
through the years, cooperating with laws and morals of this
world.
...

Flowing energetically into the afternoon, taking pleasure
into my soul and being, taking in elegant rhythms rising
and falling.
...

Listening to breezes of heaven's angels whispering quietly in
my mind, telling of all the wonder and awe that I will yet be
seeing in life.
...

Writhing and rocking to an energy of rapid rhythms, circling
and enlarging spheres, containing a creative and prophetic
life of being empathic.
...

Forging right into the fray, music now flowing at the Wagon
Yard, band taking us down memory lane with their popular
rhythms.
...