RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Seeing the love you have for your daughter, it is beautiful,
memorialized in many crystal tears.

Your daughter was very lucky to have a Mom like you, always
...

Walking towards me with a bouquet of flowers, tears hanging from her eyes, a sadness emanating from her soul.
How I wish I could reach out, hug her, tell her I'm alright, that I still love her; but the silence of death lies between us.
Carefully making her way, making sure not to step on any other's grave, coming upon mine, kneeling, saying a prayer for me as she places her bouquet in the little holder.
Eyes totally misted over, everything's a little blurry; cleaning off my headstone, touching it so gently as if I am a part of it and she doesn't want to hurt me.
...

Hug me like it's the last time you will hug me.
Melt your love into my heart and mind forever.
Imprint it onto my soul, so no matter how far we are
from each other, we will find one another again in
...

Life is constantly changing and rearranging itself
to suit a higher purpose.
We think we're in control, in reality we're not.
Our futures are planned to an iota of a nanosecond,
...

Changing cycles, ending where I should've begun, standing now on shoulders of death, living life shortly in measured breaths.
Yesterday's have slipped downhill into a cemetery hole, while hopes of dreams, longing and yearning have quietly crept outdoors.
Knowing there's not enough time to do good in this world, yet praying that I've done enough in my short life to please our Lord.
Taking steps, gently, towards earth's horizon, knowing soon, I'll be living beyond this mortal world.
...

Tender, fragile petal of life I am of late.
Sensitive to a fault, wavering on the brink of death.
Delicate and gentle, unafraid, yet ready to become
unknown in this life.
...

What is left after death?
Pictures, images of things you did, people you were with.
Deep sadness expressed in tears, voice choked with sorrow.
Life for you has ended and somehow I am expected to go on?
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Melodies collide and jump, leaping about my mind,
secretly sacred, blessed beyond any doubt - the
beauty I see and hear inside.
...

Likely aspects of life hang in the balance as each
day progresses.

Some parts are collected and put on display, while
...

Particles of relief flood gates of serenity, flowing
and ebbing into desert traces, without holding on
through storms of life.
Tactical reasons continue to accumulate as stereophonic
...