RoseAnn V. Shawiak Poems

Climbing intricate walls, grasping vines of unclaimed life,
securely knowing the fall of demise, euphonies playing in
mind, trapped in spider webs of distaste, equally forlorn.
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Not being an expositor, I cannot assist anyone or teach
the ways of life, books explain all tell-tale habits of
getting along in this world.
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Ruins of regret sift themselves in untimely rest,
offering misspent hopes and dreams, dying beneath
a capsized boat.
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Ideas falling, dropping like lead upon my brow, untamed,
blindly careening down channels, left behind.
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Spirits of the night dance rhythmically and untiringly
into the morning light, at times bringing a particular
joy to the surface.
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Living beneath blue waters of heaven, listening to the
quiet sounds of silence as they reverberate into hearing.

Listening to tones and beats of irregular breathing,
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Enjoying music as it lifts my soul's spirits, feeling it's
effects on mind and being.

Bringing to life all bodily functions, aligning them all to
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Slowly soothing melody, traipsing along highways of
imagination, taking a journey into melancholy avenues
of adversity.
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Precious coverlets folded neatly, placed aside on bedsheets
draped with memories.

Sequestered in cells of uncomfortable selection, siphoning
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Ringing melodies following interior guidelines
through rhythm.

Standing in horizons, looking out to sea, wishing
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