Perchance, she said

 

My little poetic musing on one of my girl's favorite words:

Perchance, she said

She never said yes, 

and rarely said no, 

just tilted her head 

with a thoughtful glow.

"Perchance," she’d offer, 

with a sly little grin, 

as if truth was a door

you’d been almost let in.

It wasn’t a promise, 

nor quite a delay,

but a shimmer of maybe 

that lit up your day.

“Perchance,” she’d repeat, 

like a spell or a song, 

inviting you gently

to play and belong.

Now when I wonder

where Jess might shine,

I look to the sky

and believe it’s a sign.

Perchance she’s out dancing

on moons made of mist,

spinning secrets with stars

no one else could have wished.

Perchance she’s designing

a world of her own,

with trees made of starlight

and hills brushed in gold.

Maybe she’s sculpting

whole worlds in her style 

bold, kind, and curious, 

with that sideways smile.

I don’t know the answer, 

not fully, not quite… 

But perchance she is near 

when the stars blink at night.

(Artwork by Midjorney and imagined by me)