RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Watching elderly couples dancing across the dance floor,
smiles upon their faces and a kick in their aging steps,
music totally taking over their beings.
...

Scattering seeds of rhythm along measures of music, stepping
in time, focusing on sounds as they enfold each individual
in blankets of joy and happiness.
...

Reaping fruits of labor all through the years, reaching for
thoughts that have tremendous appetites for rhythm and music,
playing into forms of motion as they twist and turn.
...

Lights dimmed in a late night rendezvous, liking to challenge
hidden shadows, risking being caught up in somnolent crusades
of energy as it spreads into every corner of the Wagon Yard.
...

Mind turning around, swiveling into time past, pictures spin-
ning into focus of all that we had, all moments spent together,
never thinking that they would one day be gone.
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Singing violin taking us into playgrounds of lovers where they
turn about and roam into shadows after many moments walking
down train tracks trying to find their way home.
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Swelling pride of music tells all through melodies of
beneficent thoughts in rhythms being placed into puzzle
pieces of aforethought.
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Walking slowly in step with a silent disappointment lying
within, being nudged gently, pushing quietly in directions
of established honesty that can never be taken away.
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Eyes closed, fingers strumming a classy guitar, pouring
melodies from a tortured heart of loss, love from another
dimension fading into the darkness of another time.
...

Jumbling melodies and harmony together just to see how they
sound, drums beating steadily into the night, no one needing
to question why.
...