Peeking Into Heaven Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Remembering sitting in front of our bay window, looking
out at our front yard, as far as you could see to the
forest ahead.

Beauty of nature in hanging willow trees being blown
gently in the wind, like the ripple effect of wind
blowing across the calm section of the ocean.

Incendiary flames of the sun shining upon the water,
like an oil fire resting on it's surface.

Seeing also, a swing hanging from a branch high in an
oak tree, standing alone on it's seat thinking and
pretending that I was peeking into heaven.

Childhood memory when ten years old, a pleasant time in
Bridgewater, New Jersey, where we lived on a mountaintop,
seventy-five acres to roam around.

Playing, using imagination in every possible situation,
making life livable in spite of having nothing.

Parents renting this two story house for $60.00 per month,
those were the days when landlords weren't out to rake
their tenants over the coals like they do today.