Day 3, They Labelled Me a witch…. :-( and I cried that day

Day 3

“When the  Lord brought back  the captives of Zion, we were like men who dreamed.”

Psalm 126:1

My lessons  in learning. “They labelled me a witch that day and I cried. Sadly, had it of been in the 1600’s or there about, they would have burned me at the stake.” 

Dreaming and being apart by choice from the one who loves unconditionally in the rotten state of purification, he restores to His vine a fruit with fragrant  blossoms.

What have I learned while sojourning the dead?

Most men are dead though they believe they live and life is found in belief and relationship to the creator. There is no life separate from him and he does not condemn. The serving of “other gods” are my wondering thoughts that do not allow His enlightenment. For in every topic on earth, God is. And, He is knowledgeable about everything including the forbidden subjects. He still  teaches me and I am grateful.

The only judgement is that of ourselves and non other, unless of course, I’ve worn their shoes for a lifetime. Judgement arises from fear of that which is not understood.

Stairway To Heaven Led Zeppelin

Dear John


I was leaving then, on a day such as this, with my suitcase in my hand.

But a tsunami came and took me away thus leaving my portmanteau behind.

If you find it dear, please, know you were near to my heart break at that time.

Treasures of gold and diamonds of blue are not fond memories, I held of you.

Old Dear John letters within the luggage were left on the shores, in lieu ~


Second day


The scripture I’ve chosen is one of those lines that can condemn; however, I’m going to apply it in a positive manner and only point it at me, myself and I. This will be one of those times one can write about the self and hopefully not have too many “sighs.”

So here goes my application of applied self to scriptures that can condemn.

It is no surprise that when I read this passage it clearly explained that teaching, preaching or giving scriptures to others are meant first for the self and if (this one in particular) directed at someone else is judgmental.

Having written this above statement please note that the verses mean something to me as well as others and is there for individual interpretation for self reflection. In other words, the meaning and content will be individually comprehended and the message given to me will not necessarily mean the same to you.

So I thread lightly when giving the words and use them carefully for myself.

“Woe to you experts in the law, because you have taken the keys to knowledge. You yourself have not entered, and you have hindered those who were entering.” Luke 11;52

How often have I created harm rather than good in the name of God. The way that I now interpret God is far different than the way I felt 45 years ago, which was a condemner, and now, I see him/God in a masculine/feminine presence  as a lover and encourager of mankind who loves all men and women no matter what their condition of their soul/ego maybe sojourning. Because he loves me, just as I am, so I know he too, loves you, as well.

So, having said all this, God and I begin again. This is my second day to reunite with my lord.

A Poem for Jacob; The Cat, The Mouse and The Squirrel

Mimsi and Jacob Christmas 2014
Mimsi and Jacob Christmas 2014

A Poem for Jacob; Friends and Pets

By Bonnie Jennings ©2015


The Cat and the mouse played hide and seek

In the home of a squirrel and bugs

They sang a song while running along

To the tune of tweedy in love

The squirrel took the broom and cleaned the room

While the cat watched the mouse who danced

They serenaded each other between the butter

With a fork and a pence dab-loon

The squirrel declared, “Enough!” while coughing from the dust

And, cast them, so far away

It was a terrible dismay, on a superior fine day,

In the fresh clean month of May.

And as it’s been told, speaking so bold,

The squirrel rarely comes out to play

For’ his friends did depart, thus speaking from his heart

Admits his decisions were not to smart; and that diplomacy is an art

And, that squirrels could pine forevermore at the moon…

Hello and Welcome

Come on inside!

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

You may say hello.

I promise, I won’t bite.    

And your company is appreciated.

I’m so glad, that you stopped by.

Now, grab that chair, over there.

And, bring the rocker closer.

With our legs tucked up under us,

We shall reflect distant moments.

Perhaps, we’ll laugh and cry, side by side,

In an ambience of endearing affections,

Then ~ surround ourselves in amber introspections

Conquering the world that’s up in arms

Reciting our poems in peaceful harmony

Because veracities are written in poetry

When speaking our prose in verse,

And, using our bold or whispering theatrical voices.

We’ll drink a cup of Sarsaparilla Tea in china cups

And taste wines in a silver goblets. 

The fire will be blazing in the winter

And the stars we’ll observe by summer,

We are drawn to imaginative journaling 

Although, probably absurd, to others

But we don’t care ~ ♥

So, thank you for visiting.

I’m thrilled that you’ve ventured here.

And, I hope you will stay awhile and finish up your beer.


Thank for visiting, Boondoggling With Bojenn and please know your visit here is so appreciated. Thank you hundred times over and over… ❤ ❤ ❤

Photo on 1-28-14 at 4.26 PM #3

The Raggle Taggle Gypsy By Trad

When I was a wee little girl, I sang this song all the time….

The Raggle Taggle Gypsy

There were three gypsies a come to my door
And downstairs ran this lady, O!
One sang high and another sang low
And the other sang bonny, bonny, Biscay, O!

Then she pulled off her silk finished gown
And put on hose of leather, O!
The ragged, ragged, rags about our door
She’s gone with the raggle taggle gypsies, O!

It was late last night, when my lord came home
Enquiring for his a-lady, O!
The servants said, on every hand
She’s gone with the raggle taggle gypsies, O!

O saddle to me my milk-white steed
Go and fetch me my pony, O!
That I may ride and seek my bride
Who is gone with the raggle taggle gypsies, O!

O he rode high and he rode low
He rode through woods and copses too
Until he came to an open field
And there he espied his a-lady, O!

What makes you leave your house and land?
What makes you leave your money, O?
What makes you leave your new wedded lord?
To go with the raggle taggle gypsies, O!

What care I for my house and my land?
What care I for my money, O?
What care I for my new wedded lord?
I’m off with the raggle taggle gypsies, O!

Last night you slept on a goose-feather bed
With the sheet turned down so bravely, O!
And to-night you’ll sleep in a cold open field
Along with the raggle taggle gypsies, O!

What care I for a goose-feather bed?
With the sheet turned down so bravely, O!
For to-night I shall sleep in a cold open field
Along with the raggle taggle gypsies, O!

This song, although popular in Ireland, is of Scottish origin. The song tells of a lady living in comfort and leisure who absconds with the gypsies. The event is thought to have been an actual one. Here is a slightly different version of The Raggle Taggle Gypsy.

The Greener Ocean?


And from the waters holding deep emotion,

She then flew out from the depths into the wide open.

Searching for freedom from taunting terrors

She pushed up and out into their fresh bearers…

Their promise of love and good fortune,

Caused her to breath from their airs of misfortune.

Leaving behind the ocean of tears

And pressing into the place promised without fears…

Would she find her hearts desire

Or will she sink into deeper sorrow ~

Hyacinth Tincture

I think this is a lovely instruction…

Circle of the PussyWillows

“If of thy mortal goods thou art bereft,
And from thy slender store two loaves alone to thee are left,
Sell one, and with the dole,
Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.” –James Terry White (1907), Not by Bread Alone

According to ancient Roman mythology, Hyacinth was a beautiful young man. This mortal was the faithful lover of the god Apollo. As usual, the pantheon of gods was rife with jealously. No one was more envious of their relationship than the West Wind, Zephyr. Enjoying the company of one another, Apollo and Hyacinth started a game of discus. Hyacinth ran to catch the discus, as any fool-hearty lover might to impress their significant other. Zephyr blew Apollo’s discus off course, which mortally wounded the young man. Apollo rushed to his love, denying Pluto claim to the boy’s soul. Instead, Apollo crafted a flower, the hyacinth, from the spilled blood. His…

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The Essence of Old Lace, Grandmother’s and Moth Balls

My grandmother
My grandmother, “Bigmother.”

The abandoned home of my grandmother’s bred too many spiders.

But, hiding on the window seal were her Earthly treasures.

And, going to the alter, of her lasting thoughts,

I placed one hand on her Bible and the other on my heart.

Closing my eyes and feeling that time, knew we were not apart…

My grandmother then spoke to me, and said, “I’m so proud of you, as you are, a work of art.”

So, I breathed the moment in reverence of her lovely essence

And departed with a smile knowing ~ She was supernaturally present…

To My Furry friends


A fine day, indeed, shall I skip through the trees,

Into a meadow so green, and

There, shall I fall upon my knees, and give thanks,

To my Lord in prayer…

The sky will be fair and the flowers so bonny

The place will be heaven it seems

Across the way, shall I see you that day

Will we meet? God’s will, if he may…

Soulmates Found in Other Times

Deadwood or reinvention
Deadwood or reinvention

Soulmates Found in Other Times

By Bonnie Jennings 2015

the greens of spring vibrate abundance
on the distant flight of winter
The chirping and sounds of life continued
among the living of this planet
The deer graze without hunger
on the meadows of rolling mountains
Awe the aromas of the forest
that invite us into enchanting stories
holding her sweetly amidst the flowers
kissing her gently the ghostly lovers
who perished in memories within her sorrows

Celtic For The Day. Grasping The Hem of His Garment

Grasping God. To know him is to love him…


St. Patrick’s prayer in Gaelic

My Covering


* Note: Tornados were close by my home and together we snuggled sat, my 5 animals and I,  in a dark closet we waited until the storms passed, so later I wrote this… 

My Covering 

By Bonnie Jennings

The storm threw bolts of illuminated swirling wind

 On the horizons of East and of West 

The rolling vibrations shook my heart of fainting

Amidst the closet of our hiding of fears and trembling

The weather fell calm and out of the thunder

On the place where I do slumber

Oh, the desire for comfort and embrace

Of the tender human like Christ

Of His mercies and His grace

To touch him for’ He coddled me 

While in anguish and in longing distress.


The Summer Fairies

Ahh… It was scorching.


The Summer Fairies

By Bonnie Jennings

Dancing, stirring, and singing

The flame became hotter, 

The summer’s heat and the decadent stove

The Brownies should’ve sweltered, 


 But the fairies didn’t care 

As they stirred the pot 
And the music grew louder 
As my foot steps tapped about…


 The laughter and heat 

And the food so sweet 
Made us all laugh with glee 
As we sang to the beat…


 And so we carried on 3 hours or so 

On a Sunday’s eve mid Summer, you know…


After a  jig or two while having bare-feet

Then, eating the remainder of our cuisine 
And laughing when dinning with food in our mouths
Our toes kept the rhythm to the airy gypsy beat. 


 Like the jungle heat 

On a mosquito clad day, 
But the fairies didn’t mind 
So, we continued to play…


 Whirling; the hot room seemed to go 

The voices louder and music showed 
That it wasn’t a surreal dream 
But so authentic, indeed 


 And Soon all the gingerliness crumpets were eaten

Then a tart desert toppled with
Yummy Ice-cream Alexanders 
And round fairies who served whiskey Liquors 


 And the eve of the day

Was met with delight 
And I turned up the music 
But, to my surprise! 


 The fairies fell sleeping, 

Snoring so sound 
And sadly I left them 
Tucked in their wee beds 


 I then closed their doors 

So wanting to play 
But the faeries asleep 
Made it difficult to stay…


 So, I too fell…

Fast asleep 
On this summer’s eve
In my whimsical chair 
Curled up in the heat.  


Was this a vision? 
A dream that I partook 
Aha…! More than likely
A delirium it seems.


Thinking and dreaming of magic galore 

And when I awakened to a sobered snore…

The faeries were gone 
But, left behind were all their chaotic fairy chores.



New Orleans Coffee Queen by Bojenn 2012
Bojenn 2010


Tearful and Demanding that God Send His Angels

Tearful and demanding that God send his angels
“To please minister to my sorrow”
However, no shape of a human angels came
Only 3 dogs with wagging tails so joyfully wanting to serve me.

Suddenly I laughed knowing that angels come unaware
And, God, knows my heart beyond comprehension.
Thus He sends his commissioned pups to love.
And, It causes me to cry, it causes me to know, it causes me to see that God truly does care.

So when you see a ferrel cat or dog wondering a lonely lonesome highway,
Then you must pick it up with love and knowing that ~
God sends the best human lovers He has.
They are simply cats and dogs that mother ~ God’s Lost people.
And, they travel frightening roads to find us.

The roads they follow are treacherously hot or cold.
But, nothing stops their mission.
They are sent by God to do a work.
We humans are their intentions and they bare many burdens.

They will not give up even under the cruelest reasons…
They are angels that we are unaware.

My little JoJo
A White Wolf? This was a ghost seen from my late mothers back window of her home. I was outside and took the picture of this wolf thinking I saw her standing there. Instead it was a wolf's face.
A White Wolf? This was a ghost seen from my late mothers back window of her home. I was outside and took the picture of this wolf thinking I saw her standing there. Instead it was a wolf’s face.
Kashi, when he was a street dog and was scruffy.
Bops my ferrel cat
Bops my ferrel cat
My sons dog Javi, giving me love…
Atli, my sons cat
Atli, my sons cat

Finding Home Again

Finding Home Again

my art
my art


“Awe,” the radiance; so bright.
Then, follow it, with all might.
The road course shall lead by day.
Rocks, turns, stickers and curves; climb anyway…


My prejudiced thoughts; lofty visions of you.
Fiery images deflect a golden hue.
Imagined you, bronzed, dazzling, and vein.
We danced; then came rain.


Caught too long there; my Idol thoughts; so dear.
Washed away; with my tear.
My arms bound, and mouth sealed.
Woven, hey! What’s the deal?


OH, My God! I’ve Been Caught!
The coven’s web intendedly taut!
The feast I am; His delight.
Oh, fairy friend! By the firelight! Here I am!


Now the spiders home virtually unseen,
Vaguely tucks into that corner beam.
But, see the dim light, growing so bright?
A fairy then, slashes the silk, so tight.
And I then, fell from the web of fright.


Still arms tangled by silken threads
I pushing out with utter dread,
Thus, bracing my fainthearted fall
Then, the spider and the fairy brawl.


Wham, bam, to and fro,
from the deathly fight they bow
Looking, whom’s, my fairy friend?
Noticing the fairy, it must be Joe.


Underneath the spider Joe waves thumbs up, You’re alright!
Now run like hell! Into the light!
Run away little bate!
For, the fate of the firefly might be too late…


By Bonnie Jennings ©1/12/2010FS All rights are reserved and author holds the copyright. Copying or using of any part of the poetry the petitioner must have authors written permission. Thank you.

Jo Jo, My Sweet Love…

Jo Jo

(I realize this wasn’t written very well, but I wrote it when I was so sad about my Jo, so I’m keeping it as it is. Maybe oneway, I will clean it up, but for now, it stays like this. Perhaps, i will trash it just because))


And this is my little dog, JoJo and he is sick.

Today is Saturday 4/11/15.

After working a 12 hour night and having a 1 hour and 30 mins commute to get to him,

I returned home to a very sick doggy child.

Knowing that you had to be by yourself during this time,

Saddens me, but I’m here now.


Those of us who love our pets know their suffering hurts tremendously.

An empty void grows in our hearts.

Tears come and they will surely go,

And, glimpses of their childhood memories cause us guttural sobbing.

Letting go is the least selfish act I can do.

I know I must help you to fly.

And I give you permission though I will miss you.


Why do these furry friends make us so happy?

At times we ignore them and push them away.

But, they never leave our sides.

Perhaps that is why they’re named dogs.

If turned backwards spells God.


Your whiskers are so scruffy.

You smell a little too.

But, you’re worth all the world to me.

Even though, you once chewed my shoes.

A shaggy puppy are you.

And human love, can’t be compared.

You’re the best friend, of all my friends,

cause you are always, so willing

to be there ~

Even when I’m blue.

You never make it about yourself.

No, you turn everything back to me.

And, you lick my feet when they’re stinky.

You lick my sour breath too.

And how many friends that are human,

Would dare do the same little kind acts as you?


So, face towards the son my friend.

Where you feel the pleasant gentle breeze,

And the sons-light is eternal

And wait for me there, please.

Receive me when I come home.

It’s just the threshold that we must pass through,

It’s merely the dying and shedding of Earth’s body

That is tough and just like we knew.


But, on the other side ~

Wait for me, because I will come.

One day, we shall meet again.

That day, I finally arrive home.


And, as the song goes: It will be on a distant shore.

There, in the sweet by in by,

In heaven, we will meet once more.

Even though now, we regretfully sigh.


 Before taking the last breath

Lets hug and kiss if you can

But, I’ll not disturb your transition

Because you are my friend.


My heart holds your soul and takes it within.

And, my hands set your spirit free.

Because true love is utter kindness

And, allows The Father’s hands to take you from me.


Jo Jo as His Glove in Elizabeth Catherine Dubois

(My second novel, but this is not about me. It’s about you, JoJo)


The Intervention

The Watchers
The Watchers

Buckling thunder and separating streams of light formed above the house that I live in. The lightening protected my conversations for the moment, even though, I spoke to the 2 psychiatrists, mind to mind. We had only moments to share information before the house was once again free from auditory protections afforded me. Invented by my deceased engineering father, from the grave he collaborated temporary asylum to protect me from the forces of the extraterrestrials. They heard every word I spoke and they could read my mind. The temporary electrical energy allowed 5 minutes to tell the 2 doctors that I had copied 7 manuscripts and placed them strategically in 7 different countries with 7 riddles and 7 mandala keys all of which were different. They were given instructions to read their copies supplied in hidden locations and then burn the information immediately. The understanding given to the 3 of us, there could be no betrayers since the shared minds could interpret and decipher any rebel plots to squeal on the other. ~

 The doctors were chosen because of their zeal for the unusual and I for my association with my father, whom they, the extras destroyed. They had visited me from birth; however, and thankfully, I was not deemed worthy in intellect for their purposes. I would have been thankful, but they never left me alone with their threats of death and destruction. Why they kept me alive was beyond me. I suppose, I’m glad, but I’m always on the run and doing their menial assignments. I lip read. So, they use me to find what they’re  looking for. I must mention here that the ET’s can read all minds using telepathy, but they don’t interpret all conversations and that is where they enslaved me. I’ve never been one-hundred percent sure who or why they have such interests in certain psychotic people, but they do. I work in mental hospitals for them.
In 5 minutes under the protection on the electrical field force, I downloaded my mind to theirs, the 2 psychiatrists, and visa versa. Instructions were to speak only mind to mind and have absolutely no eye contact or body language or gestures. They were to treat me as the lowly nurse that I had been educated and treat me in ill regard. The 2 doctors were to disrespect my statements and dismiss me from the room, from time to time. This was my instructions to them. They followed through and sometimes were over the top in their orders directed to me. The other nurses tried to step in for me, but I told them, “Absolutely not. I am strong and their comments don’t bother me.”
One of the doctors, who was 35 years my junior said, “That’s enough from you. I don’t need your input.” He didn’t even say, “Thank you Nurse.” I shrug them off, even though, sometimes I wondered if there was truth to his or their belittling of me and that the 2 of them really didn’t understand our mission. Anyway, The ET’s watched from their port, station or mother ship and they buy into our schemes, for now.
 Monday morning had arrived and the meeting began sharply at 0830. The first patient entered the office. He was babbling nonsense in a foreign indistinguishable tongue. He talked about the devil and his eyes changed. They became sharp and focused like a buzzards. his nostrils moved in and out in a faster rhythm. The intent of his posture also changed as he sat forward, on the edge of the chair. He shook his left index finger at us. “You wait,” he commented in a deep warning tone. “He is coming. You’ll see, he will call up tonight at 8. Trust me. You can mark my words.” The man lowered his index finger and the room fell silent. However, I can tell you, he isn’t the man, the Et’s were after.
To be continued ~

Lost Friends



There was a time that I believed just like you.


We believed that God was good and He would help and protect us.


Like children we had magical thoughts and fairies and angels played with us.


We made Daisy Chains and crown our heads with the delicate flower wreaths.


We sang KumBaYah with gentile smiles around campfires with the strumming guitars.


We believed that all was well. Now days, where ever one turns, someone is saying come this way or that. Believe, their way or else.


The voices are thousands and peace from within is lost.


So, turning away and finding the fairies and angels lost in time of my childhood is where you will find me.


There I’m not lost, but are found with my familiar friends.



Seeing The Past ~ the fireflies on our noses

 Once upon a time,

There were only 3 choices and selection was easier at the grocery.

Once upon a time there were only 3 channels and life was not controlled by programing.

Once upon a time colors of everything weren’t so vivid and captivating, and the greens of nature and outside swimming gave us brilliance.

Once upon a time fireflies lit up our backyards and the tips of our noses.

Once upon a time, the matrix had not taken over.