Poems by Jordan A. Leturgez

In whispers of the twilight's grace,
A silver sphere begins to trace,
A pathway forged on velvet night,
Where dreams take flight, the heart's delight.

Oh, moon, you cradle secrets old,
In your embrace, the stories told,
Of lovers' sighs and wishes spun,
In lunar glow, two souls are one.

Each crater marks a timeless tale,
Of long-lost ships that caught the gale,
Through midnight's hush, your lantern be,
A guide for hearts that yearn to see.

You watch the world with knowing eyes,
As shadows dance and stardust flies,
In every pulse, the tides you weave,
A symphony of hope and leave.

When spirits falter, weary, torn,
Your silver light, a new dawn born,
You rise to shine, through dark you loom,
A beacon bright--oh, take me, moon.

So here I stand, beneath your glow,
With whispered dreams, my heart will flow,
To chase the stars, to leap and swoon,
Forever bound, I long for you, moon.

**Lights Out**

In the hush where shadows dare to creep,
When the sun has bowed, and the world whispers sleep,
The tapestry of twilight, woven with sighs,
Unfolds a quiet magic beneath starlit skies.

Street lamps flicker, like fireflies lost,
Embers of daylight, now dimmed at their cost,
A gentle cloak drapes the slumbering town,
As dreams, like soft feathers, come fluttering down.

The echoes of laughter in corners once bright,
Fade into echoes, lost deep in the night,
Windows, like mirrors, reflect only ghost,
Of laughter and love--what we cherish the most.

In the dark, we discover our souls have a voice,
A symphony whispers, compelling our choice,
To gently embrace this embrace of the night,
To find in the shadows our longing for light.

The flicker of candles, the warmth of their glow,
Illuminate pathways where memories flow,
In each flickering flame, stories silently shout,
That even in darkness, we find what lights out.

For when all is quiet, and time sways in grace,
We gather our thoughts in this sacred space,
And within the stillness, we rise, we become,
The poets of darkness, the weavers of sun.

So let us not fear when the bright fades away,
For in every night, there's a dawning display,
A truce with the shadows, an embrace ever stout--
In the beautiful silence, we'll learn what lights out.

n the hush of dawn, where whispers dwell,
And the sky blushes pink, weaving stories to tell,
I lace up my dreams, let the heartbeat ignite,
With each breath I take, I embrace the soft light.

The pavement beneath is a canvas, unspooled,
As my feet kiss the ground, where the world's whispered rules
Fade into the rhythm, a symphony sweet,
Each step a reminder, each heartbeat a beat.

The air stirs with whispers of wild, free delight,
As the sun casts its fingers, painting shadows in flight.
Breath after breath, I shed yesterday's weight,
With every good run, I dance with my fate.

The trees nod their heads, in a gentle accord,
Their leaves flutter secrets, I feel my soul stored
In the laughter of miles, cascading like streams,
Where hope intertwines with the fabric of dreams.

A rush of adrenaline flows through my veins,
An elixir of freedom that courses through pain.
Oh, how the world shifts, when my spirit takes flight,
In a cascade of motion, I glide into night.

And the finish line beckons, a shimmer ahead,
With the fires of passion burning brightly instead.
For it's not just the distance, nor medals of speed,
But the journey's sweet whispers -- they nurture my need.

So here on this path, I find pieces of me,
In the echo of footsteps, in the love that is free.
Each run is a heartbeat, each mile a soft hymn,
In the tender illumination, where my spirit can swim.

Let the world hold its breaths, as I celebrate grace,
For a good run is life, and with each stride, I embrace
The laughter of joy and the sweet, tender ache,
In this rhythm of motion, my heart cannot break.

In the hush of evening's sigh,
Where whispers cradle weary dreams,
I find a longing, soft and shy,
Among the shadows, bursting seams.

The clock ticks slow, its hands like chains,
Each minute stretches, burdens grow,
In crowded halls of echoing pains,
Where restless thoughts like rivers flow.

I yearn for fields, for azure skies,
To dance beneath a sighing tree,
To close my eyes and feel the rise
Of gentle winds, wild, and free.

Let me escape this hurried pace,
This fraying thread of worn routine;
To find a quiet, sacred space,
A moment pure, serene, pristine.

I seek the silence that restores,
Where laughter lingers, light and sweet,
To wander through these open doors
And let my restless spirit meet.

Oh, grant me time to breathe, to mend,
To cast aside the weights I bear;
A fleeting pause, my weary friend,
In nature's arms, I find my prayer.

So here I stand, with heart laid bare,
A tender wish beneath the stars,
For in stillness, I will repair,
And gather strength from distant shores.

In gentle breaks, I'll find my song,
A melody of hope reclaimed,
To rise once more, with spirit strong,
Transformed, renewed, and unashamed.

In the shadowed halls where silence dwells,
A parchment rests, spellbound in its spells,
Its ink a whisper of fate's cold decree,
A silent breath caught in time's tapestry.

A death warrant, etched by fate's cruel hand,
A savage tale in a desolate land,
Where hopes once flourished, now wither and fade,
In the heart of the strong, a dimming cascade.

The clock ticks louder in the hushed, dark room,
Each second a shudder, heralding doom,
Stars flicker uncertain in the vast, distant night,
As dreams slip away, swallowed by the blight.

Yet, in this saying of sorrow and dread,
Lives the spirit unbroken, refusing the thread,
For each life is a sonnet, composed with pure grace,
A fleeting ballad that time can't erase.

So gather ye roses, while still they abound,
And dance with your shadows on this hallowed ground,
Embrace every heartbeat, each laugh and each tear,
For life's deepest meaning dwells not in fear.

In the echo of darkness, let love be your light,
For even in death, there's a shimmer of bright.
Embrace every moment, let passion ignite,
For the story's not over; the soul takes to flight.

In the heart of a bustling town,
Where dreams weave through the sunrise crown,
There's a whisper soft as the morning breeze,
Of paths untraveled, of simple keys.

With ink-stained fingers and hopeful eyes,
We pen our futures beneath vast skies,
Each word a step, each thought a spark,
Illuminating ways once shrouded in dark.

Gone are the shackles of a nine-to-five,
Where monotony dulled our spirit alive,
For in the canvas of passion we paint,
A tapestry rich, where doubts grow faint.

Ideas dance like fireflies at dusk,
At the heart of each challenge lies hidden trust,
In laughter and failure, we nurture growth,
The seeds of success, with care, we scoth.

Through simple tasks, like seeds in the sun,
We find the joy in what can be done,
Conversations that flow, connections that gleam,
Manifesting dreams, stitching life's seam.

Every effort a melody, strong and sweet,
In the rhythm of heartbeats, we find our beat,
With kindness as currency, we barter and share,
Earning made easy, in love and in care.

So let us rise with the dawn's gentle light,
Embrace the journey, hold tight to our might,
For in this equation of life and of tears,
Earning made easy dispels all our fears.

Let creativity flourish, let passion unfurl,
In the market of dreams, let each vision whirl,
In every small triumph, in each little deed,
We'll harvest a fortune that none can impede.

In the hush of twilight's tender embrace,
Where shadows dance and dreams interlace,
There rings a sound, sweet as a spell,
A whisper of magic--silver bells.

They chime through the air, soft and clear,
Notes woven with hope, a song we hold dear.
A shimmer that glistens on crisp winter nights,
A tapestry woven with shimmering lights.

Each toll tells a tale of the years gone by,
Of laughter and love beneath vast, starry sky.
They summon the memories, fragile yet bright,
Of children in snow, their faces alight.

With hearts like the chiming, they echo and swell,
The joy of the moment, the stories they tell.
The frost-kissed air carries secrets anew,
Embracing the warmth of the bonds that we grew.

As softly they ring, like a lover's soft sigh,
Calling us home where the sweet spirits fly.
They bring forth the peace that the season bestows,
A symphony echoing as soft as a rose.

So listen, dear friend, as the silver bells chime,
Let their melody cradle you, timeless as rhyme.
In this world full of chaos, be still and behold,
The magic they weave, in their shimmering gold.

In the heart of the concrete, where dreams clash and meld,
Beneath the hum of the city, a symphony swelled.
With echoes of sneakers that whisper and shout,
In the dance of the hustle, there's no room for doubt.

A glint in their eyes, the young ones appear,
With passion ignited, fueled by hopes and fear.
They lace up their courage, the court their domain,
In every dribble's rhythm, they find joy in the strain.

Bouncing dreams on asphalt, arcs of sky-high shots,
Each feint and each pivot, a battle of thoughts.
The crowd roars like thunder on the wings of a pass,
In the cradle of hustle, the seconds can last.

Grit on their palms, ambition in flight,
They chase down the dusk, turning shadows to light.
Every missed chance, a lesson to earn,
Each victory echoed in the passion they burn.

What stories they carry, what burdens they share,
With every three-pointer, they conquer despair.
The hustle is real, woven deep in their soul,
A testament glowing, a fire to extol.

For in every jump shot, in every laid-up lay,
Lives the heartbeat of hope that refuses to sway.
So here's to the dreamers who take their stand,
In the hustle of hoops, they build their own brand.

Through sweat and through laughter, through heartache and pain,
They're crafting a legacy, a sweet refrain.
For in the game of life, both radiant and raw,
The hustle of hoops teaches us all to soar.

In shadows deep where whispers creep,
The heartbeats echo, secrets keep;
Each dawn awakens, like a fight,
In quiet corners, wrong and right.

The armor built of fear and doubt,
In every child, in every shout;
We craft our shields from words unspoken,
A fragile bond, a heart unbroken.

Yet battles rage in hidden eyes,
A mother's prayer, a father's sighs;
The struggle not with sword or flame,
But with the world that feels like shame.

For safety is a fortress high,
Built with soft hugs and lullabies,
Yet storms may come with merciless rain,
And dreams feel shackled with unseen chains.

But rise we will, with hands entwined,
In every heart, the brave aligned;
For love can turn the tides of fear,
And from our wounds, we'll forge what's dear.

In every whisper, every plea,
In streets of sorrow, fields of glee;
We'll sow the seeds of hope anew,
For safety battles start with you.

So let the lights of courage burn,
With every twist, a chance to learn;
Together, we'll unfurl the skies,
In unity, our spirits rise.

The pen, the shield, the voice, the song,
In safety's name, we all belong;
In every heart, a warrior's tale,
Through love and trust, we shall prevail.

In aisles of whispers, where dreams unfold,
Amidst the shimmer of silver and gold,
They wait with stories, each object a plea,
To capture the heart, to set visions free.

The scent of soft leather, the touch of fine silk,
A tapestry woven with essence of milk,
The echo of choices, both subtle and loud,
In the theater of commerce, we stand, we're proud.

What is it we seek in these bright, shining lands?
Connection, perhaps, through invisible hands,
A tapestry stitched with the threads of the past,
As seasons cascade, the moments are cast.

Each item a treasure, each shelf a new chance,
To dance through the maze in an endless romance,
The flicker of price tags, like stars in the night,
They twinkle with promise, they beckon with light.

Yet amidst all the noise, in the hustle, the race,
Lies a longing for warmth, for a familiar space,
Where strangers become friends in the smallest exchange,
Where laughter and kindness can blossom, not change.

So here in this haven, with footsteps that weave,
We're more than mere customers, we're hearts that believe,
In the magic of moments, the art of the sell,
In every transaction, we're bound by a spell.

Let us treasure the essence, the scent of the day,
Find stories in shopping that carry the sway,
For in the realm of retail, where senses collide,
We're more than just buyers--we're souls open wide.