Gary W. Jordans
I am a hodgepodge of complex thoughts, unable to explain anything without turning it into a story having paths and detours along the way. I guess I would say that first of all, "I am what I am," as Popeye would say. I like to think I am honest, a workaholic, I tend to control conversations as I have been told. I was born in Northern Wisconsin, my father is full German my mother full Norwegian. I’m a Navy Veteran who loves writing poetry and children’s stories. I am a hopeless romantic lost in my thoughts of adventure, deeds of glory and honor. I was born with a restless heart and a need to share with others and work till I am totally exhausted. My life is a recipe filled with a sweet spice, a bit of jest and lots of love and laughter.
My inspirations come from a wild imagination. I see the world through a kaleidoscope of sorts. I get inspired talking about so many things that I love. Some of my passions involve gardening, writing poetry or stories. I know how to see the singular tree within the forest, a billowy cloud becoming a ship or a dragon. I am inspired by the beauty that God blessed us all with in so many ways. I am inspired by the people that share with me their most precious gift, their love. As long as I can remember I have been able to spin a tale or compose a story from a single thought or word. Influenced by my four children wanting a new made up exciting bedtime story. Nature has always played a large part in my life especially gardening, fishing or anything to do with the outdoors. I am just a thought away from another adventure, always.
At sixty six, I have had to adjust greatly my life and my ambitions. Diagnosed in 2014 with ALS, I now find new challenges in everyday tasks. I still love to write and compose poems or verse, only using one key at a time. I still am up to the challenge of climbing this mountain God has given me to overcome, and life is good. I knew I had something special that others did not when I had to write a poem for my freshman English class. This was not just a poem, but an event I encountered as a young boy of twelve or so. I was out with my BB gun playing Daniel Boone and that day haunted me for years. It was this thought that I put to paper in a poem, never changing a word as it rolled off my pencil. My teacher embarrassed me by having me read it in front of my classmates. I received an A+ along with a flushed face as several girls praised me saying they loved my poem. The year was 1965 and it was the first poem I submitted to be published. I since have been published seven times, I joined the National Poets Society and the international Poets Society. My wife and I finished our joint work, writing a children’s story titled The Puppet and the Mouse, a children’s love story, we hope to self-publish it.
A Child's Cry
The sound was heard throughout the woods
Much like a child had cried
That told the creatures near and far
That death was on its way
A gentle fawn stands all alone
Below its mother lies
No more to tend her helpless son
Nor guide him on his way
For deep within the gladded woods
The hunter takes new aim
And once again a sound is heard
Much like a child had cried
Published 1991 Sparrow Grass Poetry Forum, Poetic Voices of America