On Our Whims

We chose to allow
Our hearts out of their cartons,
Knowing this might be
Dangerous to all our peace;
We were rewarded with LOVE!


This Time

Nothing is nothing
Unless we choose to let it
Pass out of our lives
Without any impression,
No image in memory.
Erased fingerprints
Swept away with the stale dust
Of each yesterday
We chose to omit in haste
So we could pick up the pace.
Our lives all novels
Written at our whimsical
Leisure with what truths
We spare in ordinary
Moments which we suddenly
Realize are not
As simple as they once seemed,
But hold treasured dreams
We try to make ours somehow,
Cause love depends on us now.


There are a handful
Of stones now laying below
The windows, past cast,
Into our everyday lives;
The hurts are turned beauty now.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan


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