William Jackson
willjxn

I grew up in Southern Colorado's San Luis Valley, positioned between the beautiful San Juan Mountains to the west and the breath-taking Sangre De Christo Mountains to the east. I am currently living in Utah. I am a father of four amazing children. My wife and I have two of my children with granddaughters living at home with us. I am now, the proud grandpa of three beautiful granddaughters. The two oldest call me Papa. A name that is more endearing than any other. I enjoy late evening swims, reading books, gardening, painting with the assistance of computer technology (GIMP) and taking hikes in the Utah and Colorado mountains and foothills. And of course, I also enjoy writing poetry and sharing it with my friends and family. I have had my personal struggles in life and poetry has helped me come out victorious over them.

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Hour six: Prattle

By willjxn

What is there in all of this,

That I want to write amiss?

Why do I find joy in verse?

Could my thinkings make things worse?

 

Poetry is my defence

To put face to arrogance,

Yes I know it isn’t much

But it gives me hope as such.

Not to mention— lovely touch.

 

Looking out onto the day,

I would love to share my way.

I would gladly give you sight,

Of the world as I see right.

Hope you think I’m not a bore,

That I share my thoughts some more.

If I had my way you’d see,

I might be like you could be.

 

In defence of all of this,

I would hope that you would miss,

All my prattling about,

And the thoughts I do without,

Put to words that make a rhyme.

Love to  hear your thoughts some time.

Hope you’ll share them here with me.

You might change eternity.

Write your words for all to see,

I’ll keep in mind what you— I’ll be.

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Hour Five: Laughter of Children

by willjxn

I will never forget how they changed my life—

Cliffs of salmon-pink sandstone

Lent their broken skins to make homes for;

Sons,

Daughters,

Parents,

Grandparents.

Long gone, yet—

I could hear children’s  laughter clattering off the walls of this ancient place.

 

My memory later washed with color and framed.

In a picture of;

Brothers,

Sisters,

Mom and Dad—

Nomads living in a camper;

Strapped to the bed of an old blue 1960s Chevy pickup truck.

And there—

Laughter of children clattering off the walls of my memory place.

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Hour Four: Magic Windows

Hour Four: Magic Windows

by willjxn

on a wall in every room,

windows where we look to groom.

magic windows to our view—

little Miss, and Grandpa too.

 

magic windows to our view—

see the people me and you.

see them mimic everything—

every sway, every swing.

 

see them mimic everything—

smile to smile, these windowling.

room by room their backgrounds change.

yes, it seems so very strange.

 

room by room their backgrounds change.

yet, we only rearrange—

little Miss, and Grandpa too.

magic windows to our view.

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Hour 3: Mountain Woman

Hour 3:  Mountain Woman

By willjxn

 

Mountain Woman drapes

Herself in winter’s white.

With the wind to traipse;

A mesmerizing sight.

 

Who made you so frail?

What architect’s resign;

Made you dance with hail,

Old homely, empty shrine?

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Hour one: I am a child of—

Prompt for Hour One

I am a child of—

by willjxn

I am a child of the winds;

Born in the fires of countless suns,

Heaven traveled,

Earthbound,

Rain lent.

I am a child of of the earth;

Born of moistened clay,

Family rooted,

Water nurtured,

Star reaching,

Wind sent.

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