The Lives of Fairy Godmothers, Angels and Witches Catherine Dubois’ Odyssey to Enchantment

 

 

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Catherine Dubois’ Odyssey To Enchantment

By Bonnie Jennings

 

Within 150,000 words weaves a story involving an edgy woman who is either psychotic or is as the townsfolk believe eldritch. They, in Glory Town, a charming picture-perfect town, nestled in The Appalachians, call her a witch. For Cat Dubois, decades passed and she becomes more isolated from her accusers. Jealousy and scorn for a child who was fey with sapience, the  community of pretentious righteous, mocked her. The quaint town was not so “charming” after all and quickly ran sinners away. While alone for years, Cat began to see and hear voices. Visitors seldom came; however, her lonesome manor was haunted. However, little Cat prayed a prayer when only a child. That prayer was answered when she turned forty-five. An angel or fairy godmother named Eleanor came riding on the wind. Traveling with Eleanor was Tadhg, who was of the same order and virtue, and a little black dog named, Lovey.

“A scream was heard that summer day. A four-year-old little Catherine moaned into the mystical wind. She told the wind to find Thomas. Bellowing, into the breeze, her little heart begged, with vigorous might. The current carried her voice. It never ceased, until one day, “I heard it,” and that was when, Eleanor came riding in on the wind.” 

 

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My Little late JoJo as “Lovey”

 

 



 

 

The model in the photo is my daughter, the photographer was my son, and the digital artist is my dear friend Ky Mason. The picture has a copyright so I ask you, please don’t use it as it might be the cover of my novel … Thank you…  All Rights Reserved

 

Ky Ellen Mason artist/editor/graphics designer/publishing/printing

https://www.facebook.com/search/top/?q=ky%20ellen%20mason

 

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You may reach me (BoJenn) the novelist/poetess via email at :

Jennings.bonnie1952@gmail.com

Bonniegjennings@gmail.com

or on FB @

https://www.facebook.com/bonnie.jenningd

 

 

May you have a wonderful day and thank you for stopping in and reading 🌺

The Winner’s of The Poetry Contest Are 📢📢📢 A Drum Roll Please 🏆🏆🏆

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First of all~ I want to thank the three judges who graciously accepted this role. It has been tedious and also rewarding for each of us. Also I must mention, at this time, they still remain anonymous. 

As I said before, my role was the organizer, the sorter and the mailman. Blame me for the formatting… It just doesn’t want to do right…  🙂 

So without further delay…

 

 

IN FIRST PLACE …. Ta Da-Da-DAA !!! 



 

 

🏆 🥇 First Place Gold Winner Is …

 

All I Have to Give

By DL Mullan

I listen to the whispers of the wind

in hopes to catch the sound of you

my sorrow is all I have to give

because there is nothing I can do

I am not complete; I am not whole

what I would ask is for solace

to lighten the load of my soul

but I find no peace in this silence

I am breaking now into pieces

a fallen jig saw puzzle reordered into chaos

I fit. I place. I try and try to seize

a memory that will comfort me

All I have to give seems insufficient

to the weight of my terrible grief

maybe if your voice guided my hand

I could put myself back together again

 

 


 

 

 


 

 

 🜛🥈 Silver Place Winner

 

~~~ ABOUT MY MUM ~~~

By, Charlotte Rains

 
 
I want to begin my story with just a simple line
 
To begin again to tell a tale of a different place and time
 
A time when I was just a lass with curls and a pretty dress
 
Bringing smiles and laughter too and a lot of happiness
 
I often sought to please my mum and have her sing a song
 
A happy tune with words I knew so I could sing along
 
I sought her often to tell me tales of back when she was small
 
But often got a fairy tale…but I enjoyed them all
 
She’d tuck me in with kisses and hugs after the tale was read
 
I’d call her back for one more hug before she went to bed
 
Once I asked about my da but it seemed to make her sad
 
I saw a tear fall from her eye and thought that I’d been bad
 
But then she hugged me extra tight and whispered in my ear
 
That everything she could ever want was in her arms right here
 
We smiled and laughed and I fell asleep knowing I was loved
 
And even now my children know she watches from above
 
  
 

 

 

 

There is a tie for The Bronze place.

The next two poems were recognized by two different judges and were their first place winners. 

 

 

 

 And The 𐂚 🥉Bronze Place medal goes to…

TWO POETS and they are…

Drum roll please…. !

 

𐂚 🥉

Written by Jelly Beer 
Books scattered on the sand, pages leafed through and tattered, possibly for research, an antique Smith-Corona left on the table maybe in haste by the author seeking inspiration from his surroundings to pen a longed-for best seller for himself and the masses.Writer’s block had reared its ugly head! Thoughts and ideas were dead inside him. He needed to breathe again and clear out the cobwebs clouding his brain.It’s happened before. He knew there’s one more book inside him. He was instinctive. He’ll find his way back to the table ~ and type!
 
 

And the second Bronze Winner is ….. 

 

 

𐂚 🥉

Catalyst  

by Gina Hirsch

 

I have come too close to the flames to ever want to miss out on the burn.

I’ve lingered so long next to the night, I hate when it is the days turn.

The day comes beckoning underneath  an angry sky. 

Clouds dance marvelously as the moon steps in to eclipse them all.

I miss the blue heat. The wind that slowly tries to snuff it out. 

I loved and longed beyond all hope to tempt it all back to my claim. 

A rushing rapture of love.

A course of venom from a lovers lips; who’s tongue is the only antidote. 

Who’s touch is my religion. Who’s arms and shoulders my only sanctuary.

But the day took over the night.

And passion and kisses and antidotes to hearts gilded wishes have all passed away.

All that is left here is old ghosts and former images that fail to fade.

Phantom shadows of the lover who never comes to stoke the flames. 

 

 

 

 

 

The Honorable Mentions are those poems that were the judges high ranking choices and they are as follows…

 

 

🏆

Morning Jennie,
By Dwayne Leon Rankin

 
The Final Leaf of Autumn
I looked and saw the leaves had left
The trees, now fallen to the ground.
But for one, still hanging on.But then the winds all blew and blew,
Blowing all those leaves around.
That leaf then too was gone.

I looked outside and saw the trees
All empty of their autumn’s coat;
Bare now for winter’s day.

To sleep, to sleep those trees now go
That leaf, the last of autumn’s note.
No more its song to play.

 


 

 

 🏆

 The Loch of Lomond

By Vernon Woods

 

Oh to be by the loch of Lomond on the heather clad banks on a cold misty morning a grounded eagle does mew from her diminished view she will have to wait it out and then the thunder and lightening and then the cloud as is resonates its echoes like a tennis ball against the rocky top mountains now naked from there snowy gowns I hear the distant lowings’ of a herd of Angus down in a fen let out of their barn yet again churning up the mud disturbing a clucking hen who now seeks safety from a tractors exhaust pipe ohhh just to lie here on these beautiful heather clad banks feeling the pitter patter of the angels tears I tell you they are not on there own I weep too my sopping sleeve a victim to my many uncontrollable tears not out off sadness badness but out of sheer utter joy I gaze up at the mountains as the grey cloudy sea wash the tops of the mountain scape the late Robin halls a bleacher lassie of Kelvinhaugh is sung from an echo of the past the bard rabbi burns earns his keep in a time way back where widows clad in black did weep his voice booming through the mist telling a story of the stealing of the stane of clone from the mountain tops steep to the lochs deep your velvety voice is not alone I hear it all to well ahhh the mists do disappear ill take my leave to meet up with a party with a ghilly in charge to go in search for salmon ohh my to behold these fine colored tartans these are the folk who have clan connections but what of my attire with no clan connections to you and I it will be a wearing of the Caledonia ohhh to be by the banks of the loch Lomond


 

 

Also highly mentioned… 

Thank you Linda 💐

 

Epitaph

By Linda Long

“You’re killing me….”

Words I hung in the air,

a prophecy that resonates through sleepless nights

My heart said goodbye to itself

that chilling evening in early August

How sacred the secret treasure of a wife and mother,

how broken the memories,

how haunting the path not taken


 

 

The next poem is by my dear friend Karen Boorman

Walking down a long dark road
I have to decide which way to go
North south east or west
which way will suit me best
I have not much time i fear
for in my life the end draws near
I want to live the fullest I can
but which way to go..must I choose?

 

Thank you Karen this reads like Robert Frost 🌺

 

 

BIRTH

By Soul Gifts on WordPress ❤️

She moved.

She swayed in time to the cadence

and beat of the rhythms

drumming in her heart.

Innocence was hers.

As was beauty.

Timeless, eternal, infinite.

None dared question.

Absorbed as she was, she noticed nothing

but the internal symphony,

the music  that swayed

and moved her eternally.

The swell, the growth, the burgeoning,

bursting and erupting explosions convulsed

shook and shattered the firmaments asunder.

In her splendour she bathed

in the newness of birth.

A new day.

A new dawn.

A new beginning.

She smiled.

It was wondrous.

.

Thank you Soul Gifts 🌹 

 

 

Thank you Soulece

By Soulece 💜

Stroke me my love
Let your nimble
Talented fingers
Play my body
Like a piano
Each caress
Igniting me
The instrument of your passion
Sending arpeggios of desire
Down my spine
Let us complete
This musical masterpiece
And write another tomorrow

 

Thank you Jason…

💎

Keep At It

By: Jason A. Watson 

Throughout life people experience both pain and suffering

Though getting through these things are pretty complicated

First you must learn to love and believe in yourself

Then, and only then, will you be able to numb the pain

This world is full of death and sorrowIt is filled with hate like no tomorrow

There still is hope for things to get better

Things are closer than they seem to appear

There’s really no need for fearGod wouldn’t put us into situations we can’t handle

This is why things always get betterAs long as you can try to remember

There is no reason to surrender

 

I loved this one Jason….❤️

 

 

 

Thank you, Jony 

♦️

With love,

 

By Jony Francissen 

 

“Today”

 
Today you are silent

with harsh unspoken words.

Your skin looks raw

and your eyes show no feelings.
Cold walls echoing promises,

Dust piled up on hope.

You promised me the sky

and turned it into a ceiling.


 

 

Thank you, Susan… Oh how I relate! 

🌺

Memory

By Susan Burns 

I’m still in love with who I thought you were

The memory of that belief
is what’s causing the grief

I’m still in love with the you
I thought I knew
I despise the real you

I thought I’d found something rare
But you were just a player with flair

I will be okay
there will be a day
that false memory fades away

 

 


 

 Now my dear poetry friends these poems were HIGH ranking; however, they went over 22 lines and in the rules it stated no more than 22….  But they must be read by everyone because they too are phenomenal … 

 

 🎖

VOICE IN THE WIND

By Cris Fox (also a dear old friend🌹)

 

When the Wind begins to call you,

You will hear his voice and follow.

Listen and know, it’s  the song of you soul.

Friendship is the bread of angels,

Gifts of life meant to remind you

Which way to go, His love makes you whole.

The Father is calling, 

He’ll kept you from falling

Creation rejoices today.

The song He is singing

New life His bringing

Whispering Jesus the way

Home to His heart of love.

When the Wind begins to call you,

You will hear His voice and follow.

Listen and know, it’s the song of your soul.

Friendship is the bread of angels

Gifts of life meant to remind you

Which way to go, His love makes you whole.

This message descending

Of love never ending,

A river of Life from the Throne.

Grace that is waking,

You’ll Bend without breaking

With Jesus you’re never alone.

Enter His heart of love.

Beautiful Cris 🌹



  

By Anne Stockstill

 

Thinking of Me?

When you touched my hand

And your lips caressed mine,

Were you thinking of me?

When you danced holding me close,

Your breathe on my cheek

Whispering sweet nothings,

Were you thinking of me?

When the lights were low,

Soft, romantic music playing

As you lay close to me,

Where you thinking of me?

When we talked about travel

And made future plans,

Where you thinking of me?

When foreign shores beckoned you,

French wine, fine cuisine served on a terrace,

Overlooking the Eifel Tower and sparkling lights of Paris,

Were you thinking of her?

When you traveled to Rome, Istanbul and St Petersburg,

Changing the look of your face,

Drinking Russian vodka, long white nights,

Were you thinking of her?

Laying on white Dominican beaches,

Playing in the foaming surf,

Where your phone service never worked,

Were you thinking of her?

Did you look into her eyes and repeat unholy vows,

To love and cherish until death,

When the church bells tolled,

Did you really believe the lies you told,

As you married her while you were married to me?

 
 
The judges really loved yours as well….
I do to as I definitely have been in this place too… Married to more than one women at a time….  💜
 

 

 

 


  💛 And MOST Mentioned 💛

However ~ it is over 22 lines…. 

 

I AM SOMETHING MUCH MORE 

By @alostwriter

I am something much more

Than what you have in your mind

I am much more than a body

I am much more than a kiss

I am something much more than the breast and

all the rest

I have a heart ,

A mind,

A soul,

I am not just this body

These lips,

These curves,

I am much more than these

You keep rolling your eyes

Up and down

Seeking to get into

Inch by inch

Into my skin

Making me feel naked even

I have dozen of clothe on my body

still naked i m

I am something much more

Than this

I don’t need you

Your appreciation

You are also one of them

I am much more than

What you think,

Much more than

You can ever imagine

your thinking is limited to this

and I am something beyond this

I am something much more.

 

By- alostwriter(sy)you can find me @alostwriter

Thank you   ✍🏻

 

 


 
 

 

I want to thank all of you for your entries. It takes bravery to lay your heart out for the world to read. Well-done and congrats to all of you and our mystery judges too! 

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

Please, just say HI! And, What is Your favorite Poetry for Mondays…Tues.. Wed…

Hello!
Hello!

If you should stop by to visit my site here on WordPress, I would love, love, love you, to please, say Hi, and will you please, please, please linger and boondoggle awhile?That means, shoot the breeze, as we say, in Southern United States. Thanks and hope to say howdy back at you real soon!

Come and sit a spell..
Come and sit a spell..

I love children’s poems. This is one of my favorites: Please, share one of your favorites. Over The River and Through The woods 

Over the river, and through the wood,
To Grandmother’s house we go;
the horse knows the way to carry the sleigh
through the white and drifted snow.
Over the river, and through the wood,
to Grandmother’s house away!
We would not stop for doll or top,
for ’tis Thanksgiving Day.
Over the river, and through the wood—
oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes and bites the nose
as over the ground we go.
Over the river, and through the wood—
and straight through the barnyard gate,
We seem to go extremely slow,
it is so hard to wait!
Over the river, and through the wood—
When Grandmother sees us come,
She will say, “O, dear, the children are here,
bring a pie for everyone.”
Over the river, and through the wood—
now Grandmother’s cap I spy!
Hurrah for the fun! Is the pudding done?
Hurrah for the pumpkin pie!

Leaving Adam By Bonnie Jennings

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~

Leaving Adam

~
Eons advance and passed away.
Thought, theory, speculation and opinions, die.
Glancing through lenses, and squinting, at the sky,
Adam, pointing, at the twinkling specs, named the brilliant ballet.
 ~
 
So, following mankind, up the mountain,
And ascending a rocky path; we embarked.
My feet followed his, upward, to where the sky was arched.
His staff pointed, and the heavens, then filled me, as a refreshing fountain.
 ~
 
An advocate of The Father of Man, I desired what he sought,
Thus’ left the home of my family and upheld his zealous quest
Confidently, I abided and affirmed his every request.
Even, wore his belief’s; did just as he taught.
~
 
One day, dared I asked, Adam, the man of science,
How is Eve today?
And, if looks could kill, then Eve is dead, thus’ left us only, to pray.
Deceased, she is. He answered, with a chill of neglectful defiance.
 ~
 
Man of Science, I spoke so boldly.
At the mountain top; we stand
The stars, you named, and held, in your hand,
However, love you murdered, so coldly.
~
 
This day, I choose the mother
Her love, which first found me
Within the warm and welcoming spirit, in there, dwells she.
 And, today, I accept non-other.
~
 
So, progressing and moving towards her;
 Over, the cliff of doubt, rapidly grabbing her hem, I aim.
Because, after carefully, considering your treacherous, pains,
There, in her grace ~ I seek her, safe harbor
~
 
I choose faith, that which, I cannot see. 
 
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Contact, opening scene
Now1

The Diary of My Snake Bite 🐍


Day one…

I’m renaming this article to The Diary of My Snake Bite
Snake news for the day 
Warning: foot selfie posted of snake bite 🔺🐍
My family member suggested that I call animal control about the snake 🐍 in my yard that bit me. 
So, I spoke with animal control and they explained snake bites in East Texas. 
Snakes only insert the amount of venom they feel is protective for them at that moment 
Animal control will search the yard if I want them to 
Thank goodness they can not today 
Can’t deal with this now 
They said a copperhead can leave a 1 inch mark and so can our rattle snake 
A copperhead is not deadly but a rattlesnake can be 
A copperhead doesn’t leave neurological damage and a rattlesnake does; however, a copperhead’s worse symptoms are between day 10–30… 
Good news 

I don’t feel any neurological issues (update) my right leg is doing something weird.
Rattlesnake bites start necrosis pretty quickly depending on the amount of venom delivered. I don’t see any necrosis but bruising. Bruising can lead to necrosis, so I must keep an eye on it.
Anyway 

I’ve never been afraid of snakes 🐍 

Until now 

Dat Two

Later…. 1AM CST USA the saga of being bit my an unknown snake.
It’s the middle of the night, but before I fell asleep, the bone pain was unrelieved by Tylenol, my choice, even though, the doctor said that I will need something stronger. I said, no thank you. Well, I’m rethinking the need for something more.
The bone pain didn’t awaken me. It was the fact that I couldn’t breathe. My wheezing was inspiatory and expiratory. I struggled with the nebulizer and couldn’t get it fast enough. Finally, the respirations were even and unlabored. 
Perhaps this was brought on by a death of a family friend. RIP Robert Bowers. I don’t know what triggered this respiratory response but it awakened me gasping for air. 
The bone pain diminished while the breathing episode took front seat. Anyway it is over now, and I have thoughts about Robert and what he meant to my mother. They were great friends. 
So, my son arrives home tomorrow. I might check myself into the hospital just for observation. Surely, the death part has passed. It’s just the pain and breathing issues now, plus intermittent fevers.
Snake bite, or this one, causes bones to hurt like flu only worse. It’s constant and it doesn’t come and go. My right leg must be lifted up for it to cross my left. I have to help it a little.
Some have told me the fangs were those of a rattlesnake while I hold it to a copperhead as the thought of a rattlesnake is too much to perceive. Too frightening.
Anyway, later today, I will post more… until then, keep the entire world in your good thoughts and prayers… 
Rip Robert 🕊

Day 2.5

It is now the 7th day post bite

Since the copperhead’s response is delayed, meaning the worst is affrer 10-30 days of excruciating pain, fever and respiratory,

My guess this is a copperhead bite… a rattlesnake, I would have seen necrosis..
My Snake Bite saga will continue…
Bless the world 

The Q ~ A second has past and perhaps a moment before Time is relatively nothing, but closing the backdoor Certainty is now, like a painting of the ocean shoresDrops stand still in films, tears lingering; therefore,Images of a living existence are what we hunger forDrawing our way through a maze is simply not folklore We are given a pallet of colors and canvas to implore Kindergartens, elementary, universities heretofore This is what is offered and then ~ nothing more BJ @2017

          The Dew

          I feel dampness in the air

          It is a reminder of years before 

          Cool and fresh, it subdues heat

          Landing gently upon my face 

          In solitude my heart hides

          Peering through veils of yesterday’s 

          Seeing you walking into a place 

          Thinking of that season long ago 

          Ideas of wants are vague and vanishing

          Visions seem like yesterday, but are not 

          Kissing a ghost of my distant past

          Touching an image that dissolves 

          This poem I pen has no answers 

          Yet I search for closings of true love

          Reaching out to a place that’s not here

          Reality is that you can’t be near

          And here we are, your image fades

          Letting go has been all I’ve had 

          Your the only truth I’ve perceived 

          Here forsaking my hopes and dreams 

          For you are all that I believed

          And as the dew gently showers my face

          The drops light then dissipate

          The drops I’ve come to appreciate 

          They visit a moment to say what they must 

          I know the lessons of the dew

          I hear the utterances of their gifts

          And in the tactile delicate sprinkles 

          I know their whispers to my heart 

          2017 @ BJ

          Fusion of Life






          Fusion of Life


          The source to travel through this edges of the universe and back

          The source that flames love and hate illuminates from stars above 

          The energy forms from fusion and ignited thoughts and whispers 

          It moves tongues, moves actions, moves poetry, moves mountains 

          Everywhere within the cosmos energy speaks in electric languages 

          Controlling out of control spiraling heated wild and colder masses 

          Inside and out, moving liquidly between light and dark chaotic matter 

          Bolts of flashing lightning and tails of fireflies, eels deep underwater 

          People conversing, sneezing, dog tails wagging, trees limbs moving 

          Wind and windmills, dams, radio waves, sonar, and nuclear fusion 

          Dreams are energy transporting through time and space living beings 

          Stones and stars, gemstones and pearls, terra cotta with mineral matter

          Just simply singing a song about The God of Creation designer of heaven 


          2017 BJ

          Imagine 

          Reading the poem that I wrote, the fabulous duo, Tulika Dugar and Alan Johnson 

          I can’t thank them enough… 
          to find them on FB, visit ‘The Poets Attic”

          https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xJp6SrAYwTw&feature=share

          Now for 

          Imagine
          All delights my heart yearns for are now mine

          Open are the portals and a clear pathway to me

          Thankful for grace that brought them home

          I open them one by one reverently 

          Years passed and my doors were shut

          Lessons learned unbolted strong locks

          The blessings that waited are divine gifts

          I open each one in thanksgiving and love 

          A child of the kingdom has much to learn 

          Perhaps not in one lifetime is Sophia revealed 

          Gently she gifts a sojourner’s pilgrimage 

          As not to drown out the wisdom bestowed 

          Each golden nugget is cherished and refreshed 

          Dusting off any cobwebs from forgetting 

          Holding wisely each monumental turn

          Each box finished is decorated, not returned 

          I can’t bestow it to you my friend 

          My lessons learned are not yours, you know

          Rest assured when traveling the paths you take 

          Have pretty boxes awaiting you at your place 

          One day we shall complete the souls road

          And compare our stories with the lessons learned 

          The medals of valor and crowns on our heads

          Won’t matter much because that’s behind 

          Where now we see when once were we blind 

          2017 BJ
          Images are compliments of A Poets Pots Haven 

          I cannot hear’ Deafness 

          These expensive gadgets that must be worn to hear

          Make morning, dreading placing them in my ears 

          Silence where no chirping birds can be heard

          No whispers of people, no uttered single word

          No meow of the kitty cat whose adjusted his mews

          The tom knows to enunciate like I’ve taught my kids 

          Speak clearly that I might read your lips, please dears

          Not to mention the eyesight where poetry is misspelled 

          But the silence goes when the earplugs enter into canals

          The noisemakers all around something buzzing confuses me

          Turning to my left and then the right to hear where that alarm be

          Driving in the car, music loud, a melody, drowns out the world

          From out of know where startles my inner peace and calm

          A siren from the EMS from out of no where frightened me

          He shoots me the finger because I didn’t hear him coming 

          The grocery store is screaming, the gadgets in my ears squeak 

          They pick up all children crying, yelling screaming oh lord, I’m deaf

          As if large brass church bells resounding without my head 

          And parties forget them, now that’s cacophony, not joyous at all

          And they speak low so that I can’t hear, well with the gadgets dear

          I hear sometimes more than one can honestly bare across the room

          From across the way their conversation is not so secretive but dismay 

          One never can tell which way the receptors pick up the words of theirs 

          Spoken privately on purpose come loudly in the gadgets brain then mine

          Pencil grinders, pencils tapping, people talking play a mind confusing game

          Coming home I take a breath. A sigh it’s at the end of another loud day

          When night arrives, what a joy, not to hear that awful mess of a growling play

          I remove those little gadget suckers and hear silence of a moments grace

          The sweetness of serendipity, the voice of the almighty speaks about love

          It is a pleasure to understand that honesty there is this other world

          And in that world words come form bubbles of delightful impressions 

          In that place where peace and comfort dwell protected from violence

          I long to sleep where angels strum vibrational tunes all so pleasant 

          And there the mind rests in silence and awe, and with God smile

          He’s glad that I hear him as he is lonely as well

          I am thankful for my world 

          This place where heaven is


          BJ 2017

          The Sounds Under Cacophony 

          Silence
          Now I can hear

          Deafness is a gift 

          The cacophony quiets

          No voices 

          No cries 

          No pleads of sighs 

          Nothingness in solitude 

          Only the bubbles within my being

          Vibrating feelings and knowing 

          In quietness I hear

          Stories and rhymes and humming 

          All encompassing the world 

          They’re there for all to listen 

          However drowned by noise, you see 

          Wishing you hear what I sense 

          Wishing that it rumbled you 

          In the world of silence 

          There are messages permeating 

          All about the atmosphere 

          Around your bedroom at night 

          Sometimes singing whispers 

          As if angels were giggling that I’ve heard 

          Because this world of magnetic energy 

          Was here all along

          BJ@2017
          Thank you Poetess Haven for the image 

          The Hiring; by The CIA By Bonnie Jennings 

          The year was 2006 and my son was graduating from Georgia State that had roughly 55,000 students, and by the way, he graduated Magna Cum Laude. He was 0.001% away from a Complete Harvard scholarship. Bragging rights… Only a mother really cares, but the story is heightened by knowing this tidbit. 
          Back to the CIA and wanting to be hired by the clandestine organization. My son, whom I’ll call code name Crocus, went to the job fair and filled out a CIA application. He heard nothing back and several months passed. His graduation was set for May 2007.
          He had a private dorm room. One day, between classes he opens his private door and found a letter addressed to: Christian Anderson. So, he took the letter down to the student mailboxes for “Christian” to pick up.
          Later, that letter was under his door again. This went on three times and he always returned it to the student mailboxes. 
          One of those afternoons Crocus receives a phone call on his personal cell. The conversation:
          “Did you get it?
          Crocus: “Get what?”
          “The letter?”
          “What letter?” Crocus was baffled for the utter whispering and the raspy voice.
          “The letter with the money?”
          “Not sure what you’re talking about.”
          They hung up and there was the letter again addressed to Christian Anderson. Crocus took it to The Dean of Students who said, “We don’t have a Christian Anderson in our school.” 55,000 students….
          “Okay.” Wondering what he should do with the letter, he opened it. In it he found $5,000.00 from a mosque in Philadelphia. He panicked a little and called mom…
          “What should I do?” He asked.
          “Take it to the pd now!” I insisted. As 9/11 had not been too long before… 
          He did and they told him “it is a federal offense to open mail”. They gave him the money and said nothing more. He called mom again. “What should I do?
          “Take it to The State Department immediately.”
          He did and they said, “Thank you very much.” And that was all. He went on his academic way. 
          In the middle of the night around 3 am or thereafter, Crocus received a phone call. 
          “This is your interview with The CIA.” 
          “Huh?” He said… They talked about whatever and the CIA said we will call you again in the middle of the night, expect your second interview (in a certain amount of days).”
          “Okay.” 
          That call came again and was followed by a rejection letter…
          “We regret to inform you… blah, blah, blah…” But, they added, “Volunteer for Americorps.”
          He did just that. 
          From there…. The saga continues…

          Mothers

          You just need a hand to stroke your head
          You only need a tender voice that tolerates your soul

          You need a hug to say, “you’re swell.”

          You need a mother who loves you and tucks you in bed 
          Yearning at the moonlight and begging for relief 

          Pleading with the stars for a reason from your grief 

          Feeling beyond what this fleshly body that captures 

          Desiring freedom from the entrapment of the gravity 
          You want to fly beyond the wildest imagination 

          And why are you held below the lowest atmosphere 

          When you are meant for flight to hither tither and yon

          Chained from rapture and left to learn, how to live and survive 
          Breathe in and out controlling your soulish wanting 

          Finding later, than sooner it comes by thankfulness 

          The doors open when forgiveness begins blooming 

          Rays of sunlight illuminate all the wanting to escape 
          Thus peaceful energy arrives when you discover that your human 

          🌳

          BJ 2017
          Imagine compliments of A Poets Haven 

          The Final Goodbye 

          Ever so delicately placing my hands on your head 

          Gently before the contact your energies have said 

          Hot and cool spots at different emerging places 

          Must now perceive your vulnerabilities and your windows 
          The healer has your best interest at heart 

          Never stealing or breaking your trusted innocence 

          Returning all the life for your benefits 

          Loving God and loving the gifted destiny 
          All is well and thankfully so sheltered

          Even the loss of life and wounded children 

          Wrapped up in a package called heavenly academia 

          You thought you would die or burned in swelters 
          And we didn’t. We lived. We wear a grand crown 

          Only warriors allowed to adorn their heads

          Remember you prayed to be strong and courageous 

          And God answered prayers and you dawn his label 
          It took all that you had to survive and you made it

          You faired well under duress and slightly felt unstable 

          And look at you now, even though, weary from trials 

          The finale comes, our lessons enter the stage

          When we take our final bows

          And leave this place 🦋
          BJ 2017
          Ever so delicately placing my hands on your head 
          Gently before the contact your energies have said 

          Hot and cool spots at different emerging places 

          Must now perceive your vulnerabilities and your windows 
          The healer has your best interest at heart 

          Never stealing or breaking your trusted innocence 

          Returning all the life for your benefits 

          Loving God and loving the gifted destiny 
          All is well and thankfully so sheltered

          Even the loss of life and wounded children 

          Wrapped up in a package called heavenly academia 

          You thought you would die or burned in swelters 
          And we didn’t. We lived. We ware a grand crown 

          Only warriors allowed to adorn their heads

          Remember you prayed to be strong and courageous 

          And God answered prayers and you dawn his label 
          It took all that you had to survive and you made it

          You faired well under duress and slightly felt unstable 

          And look at you now, even though, weary from trials 

          The finale comes, our lessons enter the stage

          When we take our final bows

          And leave this place 🦋
          BJ 2017

          Sunday Morning Reflections 

          All delights my heart yearns for are now mine

          Open are the portals and a clear pathway to me

          Thankful for grace that brought them home

          I open them one by one reverently 

          Years passed and my doors were shut

          Lessons learned unbolted strong locks

          The blessings that waited are divine gifts

          I open each one in thanksgiving and love 

          A child of the kingdom has much to learn 

          Perhaps not in one lifetime is Sophia revealed 

          Gently she gifts a sojourner’s pilgrimage 

          As not to drown out the wisdom bestowed 

          Each golden nugget is cherished and refreshed 

          Dusting off any cobwebs from forgetting 

          Holding wisely each monumental turn

          Each box finished is decorated, not returned 

          I can’t bestow it to you my friend 

          My lessons learned are not yours, you know

          Rest assured when traveling the paths you take 

          Have pretty boxes awaiting you at your place 

          One day we shall complete the souls road

          And compare our stories with the lessons told

          The medals of valor and crowns on our heads

          Won’t matter much because that’s behind 

          Where now we see where once were we blind 

          2017 BJ
          Imagine compliments of A Poets Haven

          A Message He Whistled

          There blew a hot wind upon my face

          Stoically stood by feeling, the air embrace 

          Something’s felt brewing, so thought I 

          Envisioning sights, heard a child cry

          Looking to my right and then, back left

          Noticed a sign waving soundlessly wheft 

          Stillness enveloped a moment of time 

          Another man, unaware, figured him blind

          Can’t you see? Flailing my arms around 

          He never blinked, nor cast a definitive frown 

          He whistled a somber tune, as if, unaware 

          Hello, do you hear moaning echoes, I implore?

          No, he doesn’t. He looks, as he exists the door 

          And as he moves towards the sill on the floor 

          He looks my way, and smiles, as if, to say

          You think too much, now don’t let it spoil the day 

          He tips his hat, and faces the hot sultry wind

          Stepping from the curb, he disappeared my friend 

          The sign continued moving on the street corner 

          Something was brewing that July, that was warmer 

          Than anytime known, during any recent summer 

          The news came on at five o’clock, as usual 

          Drinking warm beer from a brass crucible 

          Waited for sparks to fire from on the horizon 

          The whistled dirge was that blind man’s siren 

          Hung about “the now,” but rang out the future 

          I’ll never forget the odd musical intruder 

          Leaving a message behind when facing heat

          Step out anyway, lest you surrender to defeat 

          2017 BJ

          Part two The Prince of Hearts

          Hiding among the tall green weeds

          Studying the prey, reading biographies 

          Finding a link between you and your victim 

          Acting as if you’re psychic an angel

          Telling tales of the reasons you’re alike 

          Truly a poetic magician of keen insights 

          You’re not anything like me old slew foot 

          Not even the slightest bit of the slippery words 

          Rings true to the heart of a captivating red bird

          Who lived in a cage with other women fledglings

          Now go away and find other tall grass shielding 

          Yes, unfortunately you’ll find virginal damsels 

          Who hunger for the tender romantic verses 

          All lies and deceit meant for the trap of primed love 

          You’ll say,”no your the one that I must have.”

          The lions pride is truly alluring and another ploy 

          One more attempt to capture the vulnerable soul 

          Tasty devouring the flesh of the lamed empathy 

          That’s what you do, you can’t be helped, pathetic predators 

          2017 BoJenn LLC

          The Prince of Hearts ♥️ 

          There your hands reach out to take me pursuit 

          You who haven’t an earthly mother 

          Grabbing at my hem, please take your hand away

          Drowning your sorrows without my permission is truant

          Taking advantage of another, finding the weaknesses 

          Is devilish by thoughts and actions dear one 

          Yes, life is hardly a picnic for brethren 

          However, conmen are ignorant, geniuses 

          Preying upon victims seen at a distance 

          Magicians of deceitfulness by their actions 

          Fall not onto the traps set on a path

          They who lay and wait, for their catch

          The spider engineers a web of beauty 

          How intricate are the avenues of silk

          All seems innocent and lovely beyond words 

          Watch out! He waits until he reveals his needs 

          The victim makes a choice that destines their fate

          Shall they succumb to the spiders web of delight 

          Or exit quickly without a goodbye 

          C-ya! Then yell back confidently , “Hey! Checkmate!’ 

          2017 BoJenn LLC

          The Ascension 

          Whenever the whispering voice was akin 

          Time seemed to stop and all worries disappeared 

          It was if another world was at my feet and I was invited 

          The doors were open to adventure freely; there I awakened
          Thunderstorms moved from where I’d come 

          Shaking the distant past, it crumbled there behind me 

          No cares or memories of where I’d been pilgriming 

          Nothing mattered accepting the mountains without valleys 
          The shattered mirror of fainted familiar faces 

          Found amongst the shambles of glass and pieces 

          Shoutouts called a name that I felt an attachment 

          Yet, set mine eyes upon a rainbow of brilliant colors 
          Louder called the tiny slivers of mirrored images

          “Come back to us, you must not leave, please.” 

          Turning to address the pleas, I did earnestly thank them 

          Turning towards the lights rays, blinded momentarily 
          “But, I must go on my way, there is a rainbow of golden myrrh,

          And angelic songs vibrating from the fountains, see friends.”

          And a tug of war occurred whilst they yearned their prayers 

          The glass faces upon the ground had aromas of frankincense
          The junipers lining the path set before the ascent permeated 

          The essence of the here and now waged a brittle battle 

          A tall man who radiated the warmest smile hugged me 

          Giving me a choice, that I’d never seen, displayed majesty 
          I looked at the broken mirrored glass 

          Saw faces of people from my present past

          Heard their love and songs from a place I once belonged 

          Inviting me to return home, and then – clearly I did see that 

          The children’s eyes were wet with tears of loosing their father so dear
          Compassion dwelling in my very soul arose to their immediate attentions 

          “Dear ones do not shed another tear, your father is nearby to hold you.

          You see, I must transcend the sacred bridge separating man from all eternity 

          And I shan’t do it alone without your songs and arms of tender mercies 

          So sing me home then I shall find the way, lined by angelic children that love me 

          And prayed 

          2017 BoJenn 

          War (to understand peace, war must be considered)

          War is a division of ideas that demand a right 

          It separates the shortest distance between foresight 

          It draws a line in stone hearts refusing other freedoms 

          It says “it is right” for all who dwell, yet it sends utter dread 

          War is a grave of lingering souls found in mausoleums

          Though it is temporary, it causes thermonuclear warheads 

          War is a battle for peace of mind 

          It causes neurons to fire unendingly 

          Crazed are they who war day by day

          Unstoppable images and accusations play 

          Changing health of those and their chemistry 

          Battling others for no reason at all it seems 

          And war is a word 

          It is a feeling of men who are disturbed

          Who yield their battles on an innocent world 

          Finding peace is the answer often beyond comprehension 

          But without earnest seeking mankind might find extinction 

          But these few men can’t bridle their urge

          Often they lead others into their absurd 

          And war is because of a mental disorder 

          Selfishness and hatred of lovely brothers 

          It is unkind; it is hatred where in there’s narcissism 

          Seeking itself and manifesting nihilism 

          War is not pretty but is repulsive 

          It is in itself, ungodly terrorism 

          War is the opposite of peace 

          Wherein a soulless creature who has no sleep 

          Bj 2017
          Picture from Pinterest 

          Peace Train Poetry 

          There once was a man who sang about his hammer

          He hammered out the love between brothers and sisters 

          All over the world.
          There once was a man who rang his bell

          He rang it in the morning, he rang it in the evening 

          All over this world
          There once was a man who had a song

          He sang in the morning, he sang it in the evening 

          All over the world 

          It was The Hammer of Freedom 

          It was The Bell of Warning

          It was a song about the love between his brothers and sisters 

          All over the world 

          There once was a man who braided a noose

          He hung in a tree

          All over the world
          There once was a man who held fire

          The fires that torched 

          All over the world 
          There once was a man who had a sword

          He sickled it madly

          All over the world 

          It was a noose of hatred 

          It was the fire that burns

          It was a sword that slices the hearts of fathers and daughters 

          All over the world 

          Where are the men with the hammers

          Where are the women with bells

          Where are the children who sing about the love of Jesus 

          All over the world 

          Peace poetry 2017 bojenn

          Whoever owns this picture 

          Thank you. 

          Peace of God





          Have you ever questioned the truth about peace?

          Perhaps it is an elusive naive word that doesn’t exist.

          Infants understand the realities of Elysian Fields

          By three a tyke knows angry voices less quiesce


          Voices speak of truce and safety for all mankind 

          The words disappear from oceans of ill-willed hate

          Intolerance comes from within sacred sanctuaries 

          Holy words of no value lest having peace of a mind


          And God is behind the loathing of The Daughters of Eve?

          Who love each other in a way that I don’t perceive

          Who are we that dare utter the heart that God is abhorrent

          Oh lord – it is we who’ve caused you to grieve 


          And the nations rumble for the true children to birth

          Bringing forward humble gracefulness on this earth

          The possibilities for this generation to gain insights 

          Could it be that one human could change lending mirth


          What about ten, twenty, five thousand souls who then see

          Reflecting on the noose hung around the branch of a tree 

          A person hated because the color of the skin is different 

          Eyes wide open, the sins of kin, and self idiosyncrasies 


          The question of peace rolls around again and again 

          It returns void and useless unless understood by a man 

          The way of serenity and tolerance begins with oneself 

          Thus the ways of God drown by our actions 

          And will then ~ forever wane

          For the peace of God begins with ‘we.’

          Otherwise, truly peace, will never be 


          Bj 2017