Poetry is hands quaking, love,
Nerves jittering, minds fishing
For the perfect words,
The most eloquent phrases,
Attempting to prise loose
Every superfluous jot
From lines while feeling
What lies written on the pages
Is already fine, best to be got.

Though brief, it indeed be
Each poem is an act
Courageous and beautiful,
A dream passed into the real
Sealed in feeling to reveal
Excellencies before hidden
In minds laboring alone
Delivering honest meaning
Investing in and ushering
Others beyond, perhaps home.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan

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