Biography of Jessica Kelly
I'm not a writer. I mean, I write. so I suppose in some fashion I am. In which case, anyone who can write is a writer... but you know what I mean. :)
I'm no poet. Sometimes I write down words that arouse feeling, be it joyous or dismal. Sometimes I jot down words that rhyme a little. But either way, whether I'm arousing feeling or rhyming a line, I don't consider myself a poet.
I'm just a girl who likes to write. And so... I do.
A little about me...
I wish I'd read more. I do love to write. I'm silly and a little goofy at times. I have a precious daughter who lights up my life, and, in case you couldn't gather from some of my writings, I have a beautiful son who I placed for adoption a little less than a year ago. Ask me about it. I'll tell you. But you'll have to hear about the saving grace of God in the process. :)
Jessica Kelly's Works:
I have no published books, but I've had two poems published and I write freelance for a couple different small newspapers. :)
Jessica Kelly Poems
Faded Blue Jeans
He's got his hair pulled back and his old cap on Radio playing a Bob Dylan song Cigarette dangling from his lip
Don'T Tell Me You'Ve Changed
Don't smile at me and tell me that you're changed. My mind is set. It cannot be rearranged
Single Mother Morning
Sleepy eyes open, grin. Angel face asleep on the pink pillow beside her head.
You left the keys in the door. They hung on for dear life, praying that some stranger would not take them as you took me.
Red haze of a smoke-filled room, black night creeping through the cracked windows. Where are you?
Goodbye, Precious Friend
I can't believe it happened. Can't believe it's real. Can't believe the loss and grief And sadness we all feel.
Just One Day
The days are growing brighter. A light is in my view. It seems that I have found again the laughter I once knew.
She is all that I ever wanted, but never knew I did, you know? Her eyes, her smile, her chubby cheeks and baby laughs... all so fun and unblemished. Her eyes see so clear - no one is ugly or old or fat. Her ears cannot decipher the bad words from the good. Her smile is never forced or fake. Her laughter is natural and beautiful and so small, but so big!
Love Of A Woman
She can't do it all, but she does. How do two hands build a life? Does she do it on her own? How does she get up each morning
I can't help but believing that someday You'll understand that when I walked away I never really walked away
Much To Do
A little dizzy- from the lack of sleep or the glass of Chianti, she knows not.
It is a perpetual pain that she endures. But she endures.
Fall In Love With You Again
To fall in love with you, again, is bittersweet. I taste it in my mouth,
oh i love him so much. he is the one i dance with. we are the only ones on the floor. everyone is watching. we're moving like kites or wind socks. we don't know what we're doing. but we look so good together. and we feel so good together. and we don't care about anyone else in the room.
You left the keys in the door.
They hung on for dear life,
praying that some stranger would not take them
as you took me.
You left the pot on the stove.
It whistled a happy tune,
knowing not that the day was dark.