Choice

I saw the open door
But felt I should go,
Another way,
Continuing down the hallway
Until I came upon
An exit.
Through the door –
I wandered barefoot on
The grass,
Buoyed by the scent of water –
Wafting from an active
Stream
Like the impression
Of safety within a dream.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Sweetwater Creek Millrace

Spring Ascends

The sky begins to grin
Laughter in breezes licking
Blooms, buds, emerging all over,
Birds try Mozart on the wing
Welcoming the joys of Spring.
Lawnmowers come out of
Their retirement finding
They can roar and slash
Again, demolish growth and grass;
The turning wheel of time
Season to season leaving,
Joining creation in multiplication.
Children beg for outside time
Adults encourage homework
Completed, then recreation;
Grills abandon covers, gathering
Fuel, beginning a slow-burn –
Coaxing the best of flavors
Out of all types of meat.
Sandals, shorts, sundresses
In dizzying colors appear
Draping girls, women everywhere.
Boys, men put aside much hiding
For muscles viewed in shorts, tanks
Enjoying nature’s fabulous celebration.
Maybe time, even with its imperfections
Hollers out opportune possibilities
As LOVE makes its many advances.

Aloof

Imagined –

Now a photograph –
A view peeking from behind
Where you stand shadowed;
I have reasons to let you
Slip straight through my spread fingers.

Memory –

You never wanted me
Those long days ago, I sought
You like an angel
Who could reroute the trouble
Of my suffering life’s days.

Appearing –

Situations change,
Now reality counsels
There abides too much,
On both sides of the present
Equation, to allow hearts –

Freedom –

Wrapping around dreams
Sunken in oblivion, quelled
As no us exists,
Fare thee well cold treachery,
Your leave no more my regret.

Prompt: Can you wield a poisoned pen?

Tanka Over, Again

The sword hangs above –
Mantel – put safely away,
But eyes caress it
Palms itch its hilt to hold, grasp
Power the blade promises.

/////////////////////////////////////////

Right or Wrong, we can
Become who we mean to be
If we follow dreams
Which take us, loving, beyond –
Familiar habitations.

/////////////////////////////////////////

Writing the wishes
No magic ever renders
For humans are free
Souls crave every destiny,
Love guiding all that will be.

Prompt: Do you tanka?

Abbreviated

Richard’s beautiful Orange Tabby, who is never entirely sure I am okay. Tonight I agree with him because I seem to have acquired a toothache that is also a headache.

I returned my DirecTv equipment today, so I have cut the cord and sunk the satellite. The amount of television I watch is so minimal; I probably will never miss it.

I do recommend streaming Peaky Blinders, Good Omens, and The Expanse. I only finished Good Omens. On Audible, I loved The Sandman. If you gathered, I am a Neil Gaiman fan; you read clues well.

The poem so heavy with images was an experimental rewrite; I probably should post the original of Same. I am on my phone tonight without my computer because I have been spending some respite time with Richard. It will wait. I do not like poetry on mobile because it always inserts extra spaces when I write.

Prompt: Tell someone you love that you do.