Details |
Jordyn Ferguson Poem
On the shoreline,
I was built
A lighthouse.
Before I could learn
The pattern of the tides
That would wash away
My fresh coat of paint.
When night falls,
The horizon shifts
From its warming farewell
To an unsettling darkness,
Hiding everything in sight.
As the lighthouse,
Built with a lantern
Bright as a thousand suns,
It became my responsibility,
To guide the smaller ships
Back home to safety,
From what lurked within
The darkness coating the seas.
Then bigger ships,
Exploited what light
I could provide.
Before long,
Everyone gathered in the glow
From my burning lantern,
Taking advantage of the second daylight,
Making sure
They made it home
To their loved ones,
In time for a home-cooked meal.
I stayed rooted to the rocks,
Storm after storm,
Night after night.
I kept my lantern burning.
Don’t get me wrong,
I love what I do.
If those ships never returned,
Because I wasn’t there,
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
Still, I dream
Of one day
When the seas calm
And my light is no longer needed.
I could leave
What's left of this harbour
And finally
Light my own way.
Copyright © Jordyn Ferguson | Year Posted 2026
|
Details |
Jordyn Ferguson Poem
The woman hadn’t slept for days.
Blood-curdling screams
Crawling from under the door,
Lurking down the stairs,
Seeping into her eardrums,
Turning her stomach
At the mere thought
Of her baby in distress.
She made her way
To the nursery.
Just as the tips of her fingers
Grasped the cold shock
Of the doorknob,
A silence fell.
The woman opened the door.
A draft of icy air
Sending shivers through her skin,
Only to be swallowed
By the frozen emptiness
The nursery had wrapped around her.
The silence lingered
As she approached the crib,
Only to be broken
By the creaking of the mobile.
She reached
For her bundle of joy,
Laying peacefully in its slumber,
But her arms sank
As the blanket collapsed;
She cradled her sorrows instead.
Copyright © Jordyn Ferguson | Year Posted 2026
|
Details |
Jordyn Ferguson Poem
Secrets remain hidden,
A story stays untold.
Walls grow taller,
And the padlock keeps it closed.
Keys are given
To all who reside within
And to the few who earn my trust.
Because what lies inside
Was meant to be hid.
The outside,
A perfect dreamhouse,
White-picket fence and all.
How ironic,
The same colour of drywall
In which I watched a crater form.
Few visitors ever see
What goes on
Behind closed doors.
Once I give them a spare key,
Nothing is hidden anymore.
The doorknob beckons for your hand
Before it’s too late.
Now you see inside the house,
And I know
What happens next.
Now you know my secrets,
My deepest, darkest fears,
And that shatters your lens,
Because I am now real.
But the windows are now smashed,
The story’s been told,
Walls are still crumbling,
And a new padlock now holds.
Copyright © Jordyn Ferguson | Year Posted 2026
|