Creativity Project Year Two-Day 154

Journal entry:

Unknown, But Unforgotten

Their names might have been
Jones, or Smith, or Brown, or White…
I surely don’t know,
Nor does anybody else,
But I owe them gratitude.

For whoever they
Were, from wherever they came,
They gave up their lives
To provide me with freedom,
And now they are lost, unknown.

No family comes
Shedding saddest tears, laying
Beautiful flowers
Upon the tomb, whispering
Their quiet prayers of blessing.

Yet, they are not quite
Forgotten, because someone
Somewhere remembers,
They are greatly missed, hearts grieve
Waiting for them to return.

I owe them honor…
I will not ever forget
Those unnamed ones who
Might have been Joneses, Smiths, Browns,
Whites, or so many others.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Tuesday, June 11, 2013

I am grateful:

1.   I have such a fertile imagination.
2.   I have some wonderful friends all though I may never know all of them in person.
3.   Computers have brought people closer together who live at a distance.
4.   We have air conditioning and refrigerators.
5.   We live in the country instead of inside the city.

This Tuesday has been quite a good day. I hope things went well for you also. If you have not already put your imagination to work today, I encourage you to do it now. You will never know what you may accomplish if you fail to make an effort. Do as I do and just begin putting words on paper and let it lead you where it will. The world awaits the genius of your sharing.

As a prompt, write about something unknown or forgotten. This could go in many directions and could lead to creation of new worlds. Wherever it takes you, write your poem, story, or journal entry down and share the link to your work in the comments below.

I am so grateful that you have taken time to visit my blog. I hope something here has touched your heart. Please come back often, but you might also want to subscribe to Chronicles for email updates. Your thoughts, suggestions, and criticism are welcome, so leave a comment if you like.

Always,
Jo Ann

Creativity Project Year Two-Day 94

Journal entry:

Dogwood here on property at dawn…

This poem was prompted by my trip down to visit an old friend, but it also answers the prompt at Poetic Asides. Go visit that site for inspiration.

The Machine

It sits discarded,
Broken, a sad dinosaur,
It outlasted those
Who knew its name, we are left
With its moldering body.

Still I remember
When it was a useable
Piece of equipment,
Even then it was old, needing
Coaxing to make it work well.

Where do old tractors
Go to die, when only ghosts
Of operators
Linger in the memories
Of those who are left behind?

Their broken bodies
Haunt the landscape of acres
Where they were once used
To mold land for their owners
Whose descendants now remain.

Caterpillar made
No junk, but I recall Dad’s
Curses over this
One he often deemed a piece
Of God forsaken rubbish.

Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
Friday, April 12, 2013

The Machine…

I am grateful:

1.   I stayed up all night.
2.   I finished getting the SCC Contest Winners for April posted.
3.   I walked all over the property this morning with camera in hand.
4.   I made my appointment with the chiropractor.
5.   I caught the mess at Sam’s Club before I went out the door.

The other side of The Machine…

This Friday had its ups and downs. I am not sure which won. I hope your day was rewarding and filled with blessings. Now that you have time get busy creating. You have plenty of talent with which to enlighten the world.

This reminds me of Japanese prints… Wisteria after storms…

As a prompt, write about a childhood memory that still has a presence in your life. Maybe this is physical, like The Machine, or it can be an influence. Write a poem, story, or journal entry that portrays this remembrance. If you use this prompt, please leave a link to your work in the comments below.

Birdcage from my childhood… then it was golden…

Thank you for visiting my blog. I hope you enjoyed your stay and will come again often. You might want to enter your email address in the space above to receive future updates from Chronicles. If you have thoughts, suggestions, or criticism, please leave me a comment.

Mom, Hope, and Ko-Ko during the night…

Always,
Jo Ann

In Memory of 9/11/01

One September Morning

One September morning
The entire world awoke
With no inkling or forewarning
Cherished dreams would die in smoke.

Another Tuesday
Like so many others…
No one apprehended that day
Would affect so many mothers.

One September morning
Terrorists tried to destroy
Our country without warning,
However, it did not work, their ploy.

Another Tuesday
That will live forever;
The bravery and sorrow of the day,
We will not forget, not ever.

One September morning
Love reached out calling
Even as we all began mourning,
Our nation was not falling.

Another Tuesday
When God was in control
Although throughout that dark day
The catastrophe tried every soul.

One September morning
Remembered by history;
A brilliantly promising morning
In a place proud and free.

Another Tuesday
When America found unity…
No matter what people might say,
We still have our liberty.

One September morning
When the whole world did cry
With new respect aborning
For the noble flag, we yet fly…

I wrote this just before the first memorial service at our church and the pastor read it to the congregation in the service.

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