On a whim from within, my fingers begin, to put into verse an inkling,
From what I'm not sure, for a purpose obscured, I consider it more or less tinkling,
With words so I might, give reason a try, expanding imagination's plight,
That gathers in days, among sunlit shades, where my mind finds peace in a night,
Among stars out my windows, away from the fellows, who barter and bargain with banters,
So that I may be, alone with just me, to give myself into what matters,
To me as it is, nothing much, gee wiz, a turn of a phrase on a thought,
Not for a mention or anyone's attention, but to give life a glimpsing bright spot,
Where mind searching refrains, some free from quatrains, can ramble on never to mention,
Any disparity, or loves irregularity, that pulls me away from good intention,
Diving and sweeping, above all that deeping, that others can delve in all day,
To allow my mind freedom, because when I believe in, a moments escape I can soar,
Past all of the sorrow, and wishing tomorrows, a meaningful, meaningless what for,
Can you believe in, all this as it is, see here, read this, that's all this writing is, contour,
Gibberish, mix and mish, word bending, and styleless pitch, uncanny, but blending in phrases,
To fill up a cup of time, with all of this find a rhyme, just to expand my mind's basis,
Never needing a topic, or subjected project, to wind up my worded ambitions,
Just something to say today, because my life lives that way, washed in its written redemption.

Jade Jaspers