What May Be Proposed

I write certainly,
As if I have figured out
This relationship,
But the reality is
I just hope; I do not know.
Writing is a test
Of who I am or become
Each given minute
Pieces fill up splices where
They fit into arrangement.
What you see is not
Always exactly my thought
The words which I sought,
A page proves elemental
Blanked screen a crude genie.
No matter how long
I live, step into the place
There is no guarantee,
Anytime, I harness what
Phrases I must communicate.
The reader’s hungry
Heart, like a hoarding dragon
May desire richer
Fare than here I can provide,
I hope as I seek insight
The pen I wield owns magic
Its toil may aptly prevail
As I wish myself a wordsmith
All written words do never fail.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan


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