RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

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
...

Winter falls around me, wrapping it's eerie white blanket
over my life, freezing it's dreams in imagination's storehouse.
While consciously thinking, arousing subconscious ideas
to form layers of snow on a mind's plain in depths of
...

Reading musical scores within my mind, I relax and feel refreshed, enjoying the genius I've come to know as
talent given by God.

It surpasses all avenues of distaste and brings life up against invisible thoughts, causing them to appear in
...

A bitter end lies within my sight, crying softly, crouching lowly, waiting to let go.
Pain has overwhelmed me, drowned all hopes and dreams of living life freely again.
There is a past spread out before me, casting me to depths of despair, filling time with darkness in death's open door.
Time has packed it's bags and left, no longer interested in what will happen.
...

Smashed, the eyesight of my seeing.
Cracked in many places, crawling like a spider web across my eyes.
Once knowledge stood out in the open, now it lies back, pleading for obscurity.
Separating ideas, fragmented from within, tell-tale signs of curiosity are forbidden from certain points of view.
...

Clouds piled thick in my mind -
floating lightly over thoughts which are tucked safely inside.
Waiting patiently in the lobby of distant ideas, time creeps
by as frozen sheets of ice thicken - turning everything into
...

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.
...