Summer Poems 2015

Summer Poems 2015 By Bonnie Jennings



Earning the wings that I wear,

Dutiful battles and wars not disbarring,
The sight of suffering and smell of stench,
The roads we’ve traveled often forgotten, 
The hunger for home not resenting, 
The survival fought for mankind, 
My wings though grey with dirt, 
The fight has passed my thirst, 
But we continue forward, 
As soldiers do, 
Commanded by the Lord, 
Until we’re through.
My Little Jo Jo 
You’ll bequeath me
When the moon was full
In fall during harvest time
The sun set in the warmth of summers end
Then, we walked hand in hand
Thus you stole my heart
While I wasn’t watching
Under the lights of a starry sky
My body limp and my soul captured
Then, we walked into the night.
Staying with me for six years
And not a year longer you tarried
Forgetting all others existed
Meshing our love, entwined
Then, walking upon warm moonlit sand promised
Assurances have no guarantees of longevity
And often are broken
Rest assured you had my heart
From the uttermost beginning
When The Moon’s light was full
And The Summers end was well behind us.
Jo Jo who returned to Heaven July 20, 2015
Jo Jo who returned to Heaven July 20, 2015
About Jo Jo
Closing eyes shut I see green pastures
See you run freely
There in the flowers you jump so high
Barking ~ Like laughter
To see you smile
Cherished fond memories
Moments of
Off and on, fleeting visions
Running close to me
Reaching out to touch you
Then disappearing from my dreams
Only left with an image
You standing on a hill
Telling me ~
I’ll see you soon
Selfishly you are missed
I hold you here
Confusion about living
Dying and the hands unwind
You whisper to tell me
If you listen you’ll hear me
Just call on me
If you need me then call me
I’m not far from you
I Keep Saying Goodbye
Don’t think you shall slip from me,
My mind won’t permit
The waters might try to separate us,
From the sweat and the dust of the Earth,
But I won’t let them take you away,
Though the clock hands unwind to suggest so,
BUT, I SHALL STOP THEM, from taking you fro,
My night dreams and visions will carry us through,
Until I enter the door of everlasting bliss ~
And perhaps leave you here,
Half forgotten, “Oh, my dear.”
I’ll let you go if I must
So, here’s to your peace
In me you can forever trust.
Farewell, my love, and goodbye,
Until we meet again ~ In the tender sweet cool of the autumn’s myst
The East wind blows anticipating a storm
The intensity of heat from the summer sun dissipated
The blueness of the breeze chilled our spiny bones
Could it be that the season dwindles
Speculations too soon for this truth
Hoping the sweltering hot begone
And the waves from The East bring some relief
To the shores of Fairhope before dawn
© 7/29/15
Eaten  horse is good fer ur complection, er, looks
My goodness; my mistake

I thought you were a god, Fred
But look at you, for God’s sake
Overpowered by the waters, instead
Just like everyone else, for this I’m amazed
Suppose I should extend my hand before you’re dead
Thinking you were above the world and unfazed
And you, better than myself, Ted!
Then, I gave you the keys to my heart, depraved
But, you trampled on my grass ~ enough SAID!
Here’s my hand, now arise, well behaved
And flee down that trail away, unwed
Carry your arse to the cliff on the path enslaved
Awaken yourself for the mirror shows just a swelled head.
Submerged in a shallow pool depraved
And looking like a king remarkably unscathed.
Twirling the umbrella in the rain

And tapping like Ginger and Fred
Dancing on benches and under the bus shed
Loving like lovers should
Please do not awaken my soul as I walk

Dreamily, beauty is all I do see
Opening my eyes to early could be
Terrifying to a sleeping soul not yet yawning
So, do not awaken me before my time
Allow for the innocence while fawning
The clouds capture my baby dreams
While sleep walking away up yonder
(Giggle giggle)

Naked I swing as day casts it’s first rays
While no one watches, who may
Know the fullness of energies light
Soaking in reverently bright
Because God is with me
And happy I am
Dark and imprisoned is our love

Captured and dismayed feel I
Leaving before you return my love
A pink feather to wish you farewell
Cloaks shield my identity

Hidden from all the world to see
My soul see your destiny
The red skins reveal you to me
The human eye watches sequentially
Warning, do not eat of the poisoners tree
Artist Jealousy

I want you to be blessed
~ I really do. (roll eyes)
But, don’t rise above me
Cause, then you’ll see a shrew
“Oh, you’re so amazing,”
Speaking from my pride
But, don’t rise above me
Cause my knife will hit you’re blindside
You’ll think me “so kind.”
Lying threw my teeth
But, don’t rise above me
Cause, that bus? I’ll throw you beneath.
Now, put your work on the front
And, by the way, here’s mine!
But, don’t rise above me
Cause only I can shine!
About Angels

…Earning the wings that I wear, 

Dutiful battles and wars not disbarring, 

The sight of suffering and smell of stench, 

The roads we’ve traveled often forgotten, 

The hunger for home not resenting, 

The survival fought for mankind, 

My wings though grey with dirt, 

The fight has passed my thirst, 

But we continue forward, 

As soldiers do, 

Commanded by the Lord, 

Until we’re through.



She Leaves With The cold wind on her back as she passes a row of winter trees past a wooden fence and a cemetery that sits beyond.

Exiting with the wind on my back,

It all makes since now,
My decision won’t be hijacked.
My emotions are like the fog
Vague, dispersed and numbness
Walking towards the synagogue
Alone as God wants me
Singleminded and determined
Briskly paced as I flee
My life spared
Knowing too much is deadly
Still, I’m somewhat scared
Escaping for the last time
Lessons are learned and the wind is at my back
My decision is made and I’ll not be hijacked.
Portraits of Men
One, two, three, four, five

Counting the rows,
Reminding her of all the beaus
She’d had so many
The game of life was a sport for something
She saw the pattern, the rows and the beaus
This time she will win
The “something” must stop.
She studied the patterns in the fog
Dancer Sits Alone
Awe ~ Will I cha-cha again?

I will, but it will be in my timing
The solo dance of my soul
The rhythm will take flight
And my body becomes the vibrato’s muse
And I will cha cha again
Disconnection who me?

The psych separating my pain
Oh, it’s protection, so they say.
I don’t know,
I can’t remember.
The sun arose this morn
Upon the breath of the newborn
In The East it will set
Assuredly, do not fret
And, another dawn will come
But now I will applaud the moon
Until then, thankful, though not too soon.
Answers found the green forest

Alone waiting on the warm rock
Thinking of what could have been
Hoping you will return soon
How sorrowfully my heart shakes
The white roses should bring you back
Conjuring, you’re coming home
Believing, the fairies will act on my behalf
Bringing you here for one last chance
The old dilapidated dusty house had plastic once red roses left on the cracked cement stairs left behind with a memory 
The grey dirty ash swallowed my shows

As when walking through the old soot
Looking. I was searching for an answer
But, there wasn’t a proper question
Then, the old plastic dusty roses lay as if to scream a clue
Moving towards the plastic vase I lifted them
They were newer than the chard decay
Someone was here after the fire
Someone who left flowers
Looking in the vase a tinged paper note rested
Unfolding it carefully not to disintegrate the paper
Slowly I opened each corner
There was an ashen pink kissed lips imprinted
The was a hint of perfumed aroma in the creases
Looking back over the house, I then realized
This was a home. Two people loved each other in here
I sat the flowers back in the pot upright and put the note where it belonged
I apologized for intruding and reading the note
The apparition a male stood before me
Handing me the note he said, “read. Read it out loud.”
So, I did. She spoke of her love. She said, she was sorry. She said, she missed you so much. He nodded understanding
 There isn’t a road that shan’t have music
So, my fiddle is played along the road
The musical notes surround my steps
They bring celebration, a musical mode
Down the paths, I sing, and up, I play
Everywhere and place that I travel
I tote a rhythmic razzle dazzle
And, this is the way, I choose
Cause, there’s not too much rhythm and blues.
There was a boy that covered his ears with his hands
He SCREAMED, “I hate music!”
The other children stopped singing their songs because of the boys violent manners.
The boy got his way and it’s so sad to say
So, their little world didn’t flourish
And overtime a girl accidentally danced
The boy scowled an awful frown
He controls that rhythmless world today
His victims rarely dance nor play
And, the adults simply let the boy have his way
So, no more music for anyone around him on any given day.
Have YOU dreamed and wished?
Making a kiss upon a star?
Remember only you invite the forest fairies
Only you open the door
In every wish there is a birth
In every birth there was a wish
Behind every wish is a human
In all humans, God is.

Sometimes I think of you
My thoughts can’t be helped
I know you want me to move on
But, the memories just won’t stop
Time, so they say, will heal the wounds
Until time moves forward
My heart  remembers your tunes
Your fluffy white hair
Your eyes of green
The smell of your dander
Lingers within my dreams
But, tonight my friend. I bid you goodbye
Perhaps in my sleep we’ll meow our sighs
And, tomorrow will add another step away from you
So, you may rest my friend and I can bid you adieu.
Riding a wild horse is out of the question

And feeling a motor cycles roar is long gone
But swinging in a tree still makes one feel free
When age and old bones prevent the freedoms, once known
The Fetus

“The fetus and/or discarded tissue” is the way, they refer to the child, I never knew.
A fight to protect a grown woman right’s is predominate over the right’s of you.
Big business, clear throat, the governments claims are like talons
They use the media to promote their “caring valors.”
While, in fact, my babies tissue it seems
Was used in cosmetics and that went beyond my wildest dreams
“We’re just experimenting for the good of mankind,”
Their lame excuses sicken me, I suppose they knew i was blind.
To the fact that my babies tissues brought monetary and scientific foresight
Is beyond this humans understanding and is societies plight
For what will we be when it comes to mankind?
Throw away babies for the sake of the dying?
Are we so greedy and grab at our demising time left
That we forfeit the right’s of the young, through theft?
There’s no more to say at this moment
Except my heart has broken each Christmas morning
Missing two faces, whose hands are gone
Into someone’s hair treatment and a bottle of pretentious Perignon
The Beach
Sifting the salty sand through my toes

Remembering my life, then, as it was
Thinking about choices that humans have
Comparing decisions and comparing the lows
Humans have love that hurts at times
Angels have no emotions that make them blind
Humans eat foods made for the gods
Angels think nothing except for their jobs
To return, I’ll loose my wings
But, with his kiss, perhaps, I’ll wear his ring
Children I’ll bare in pain and lament
But, being his angel, I’ll always defend.
Decisions to make as I walk the shore
Leaving behind my job and it’s lore
Decisions to make before dawn
The waves wait patiently to carry me on
 LOOK at my eyes!
See this planks that covers my cries!
Murdered here on the deck mid winter
When the cold wind billowed on the high seas.
I’ll never know of true love
Never will I kiss a child’s brow
So, I’ll watch the lovers on the upper deck
Sweet revenge as I muster their wreck
Ghouls sail during a full moon
Lovers dance on with the tunes
And, Ill be there awaiting patiently
Just a slight slip off the cold grey steel platoon.
Angels and Gods
The guardian walked through the infinite universe, inspecting
How the systems were spinning and how they all kept time
Wading through space like water, and
Swimming to distant lonely spaces, waving
The hands as if they were wands, creating
A place called Heaven, a place called hell and a place called Elysium, the home
Where souls gather and swing blissfully on
seats hewed from magnificent wood, on
Days when springtimes don’t end

Awaiting forever the solstice return

Believing that one day soon
That God shall lead us home
Scared? Ha! I laugh. Dares don’t frighten me.

I cut, I scrape, I sculpture my skin
All for the lack of love.
Try me. You think I won’t?
My lips have tasted blood
I’m not a virgin, you suggested
Experience erased fair memories
I’m daring as a man can be
My father taught me well, sir
Tangle not with a dame such as me.
I want to go home
Please don’t hold me here
The Moon beckons my pinning heart
And laying at my feet dear man
Is more than I can manage to start
Do arise and unruffled yourself, Dan
Before you loose your head and your smarts
The Opened Window
Opening intended the window before me

The breeze was warm and felt alive
Answering my questions I set before God
In tenderness He delivered as promised
Though not the answered I’d hoped for
Certainly life had ups and down’s
I prayed for life for my brother
Instead came a dreaded reply.
But, in the breeze came mercy
And within my heart felt love
I prayed for the life of my children
But God intended much more
The answer came in the warm breeze
The window opened for truths
The grace to carry onward
Came because His truth was all I would need.
I hated ENG 101

Though writing, I always loved
Studying The Elements of Language and Grammar
Sends my stomach upside down
Welcome to my home, visitor

Think not, that it belongs to you
I’ve wandered these halls for decades
My voices shall remind you
Leave by dusk on the 13th
Take your household too
They’ll be no threats, I’m warning
This home belongs to me.
Go ahead.

It’s alright to miss him.
It’s normal.
You’re not crazy.
Kiss him.
He will know
He will feel you.
The folklore from The Ojibwe tribe
Who crafted the spiders dreamcatchers
They are “The True People,”
The English called them
Called, “puckered up” for their moccasin shoes.
The French named them “Saultaux.”
“The ones who live by the rapids Of Ste. Marie”
There a Christian missionary stood
Forced them; move westward.
Victors in war
Speared fish with fire by night
Ojibwe replenish the waters, keeping the balance.
From the spider, they spun the catchers of dreams.
A poem at the dealership 

A choice to be made of being happy or sad
Maybe irritated or blue, those too.
But here I sit for an hour or two
Either watching a clock – or renew
Each moment we face is a crossroad to make
Our decisions catalyst our fate
For God is watching our acts
And how we react
Whether at home or on a business phone
Choices to make on which path to take
Determines the world we create
And our choices then reviewed at the thrown.
Ghosts of The Whales 
“AHOY Mates!” Is that what I heard?
The waves carried the words, I’m certainly sure.
From fifty feet off the shore
A ship is seen, from some world war
But, the fog’s clouds irratically hang
And a ghost vessel echoed a mans slang
A chill of helplessness from my deepness sprang
Nothing but prayer, to set them free again
Then a choir of whales and porpoises sang
It seems the animal spirits had finally won
And the man on the vessel was swallowed by their song
Perhaps that’s the end of the ship of war
And the animal spirits rest without having their corps.
The “AHOY” of the man drowned with the whales cry sinking together as the ocean devoured all their civil outcries and wrongs.
~ Then peace was heard coming from the sea. Silence and rest poured from my heart. Not a wail heard from the man, nor from the whale.
The Stone Woman
Strong granite is my soul

I am rock hard when observing you
My shell is adorned with Aspens
My airy hair softens my mountain
Lush greens embellish my vestments
Take advantage of me
You’ll not see another summit
My spirit has spoken
A Romantic Memory
Modestly I blush when gazing at you
Naked sitting pretending there’s a cue
Dreaming one day we’ll elope
On the greens of Augusta’s downs
Until then, I imagine about caresses from you
And sipping ale from a special brew
In the warmth of a warm spring day soon
Believing you’ll pledge your love one afternoon
 How red the couch was, then
Awe the sweet memories of decadent sin
Thank God it was then and not now
Hah! I’m way too old to think about how
We were so untamed
Away back when
The sultry steam of human pheromones
Permeate my senses, in this zone
The aromas of your flesh create
Wickedness, that I can’t resist
Naughtiness of the moment
Sweet heat, oh, the moans
The shabby red velvet of memories yesterday
Hold sensuous visions of you as you lay
Sprawled with body wide open
Welcoming me, my body smoking
Oh, how we conjoined many years ago
On the red velvet couch
How it smells of today, though
Here I stand

On the edge of the forest
Just about time
To move into the light
Tender maid 

The power you have within
Is not awakened
Though lily pure your soul
The ashes and dirt hold you bound
The broom that you use to sweep
Awaits to give you the crown
But meanwhile press on
As if life is eternally mundane
The power is there to claim
When ready, you’ll know the game
The doves that come to surround you
You’ll see clearly their intricate purpose
No longer you’ll sweep in shame
Your time will honor your name
In the dark times there is a dragon that awakens within me.

The evidence is here in my shadow
When The Moon is full the dragon’s wings stretch to assume my mortal soul.
Dancing on tables is elementary
That is simply the hook dope
The teeth love Jugglers’
After the tapping shoes and the castanets play
The music is always hot and dank with sweat
And always after it kills, my angel face adorns me so brilliantly
And where are you going Grim Reaper?
The storm brews upon your back.
Did you come of my cousin Silas or
Did you come for my silver cat?
The breath of life or is it death

She blew on him
Was it inspiration or Expiration
The later my gut does fear
“Sigh,” A bride she was all dawned in blue

The cat meowed in front of The Moon
The bouquet didn’t wither as she hoped
She lost her smile when he took flight
He golden hair turned grey too soon.
Hoping forever yet feeling doomed
Thank you visiting and reading my poetry… Be blessed beyond measure!

30 thoughts on “Summer Poems 2015

  1. What we have of Trump is a barrage; Has become painful and need a message; To alleviate; Would be great; Beginning to think moron is a mirage. You have to laugh
    a little. This is a form of release. James Horn

    Liked by 1 person

          1. Retired also and am perpetually writing poems to express feelings and work emotions out of my system
            as you can tell by now. I like all the features that Poetry Soup has to offer but also like the poems
            and poets here as well. Jim Horn

            Liked by 1 person

    1. Trump Never Perfect Host

      Trump has never been pleasant, perfect host;
      Appears out of night like big pile of compost;
      Are always bound;
      Flies flying around;
      All he seems to do is both brag and boast.

      James Thesarious Hilarious Horn
      Retired Veteran and Poet

      Liked by 2 people

      1. A blow hard of types
        He just wants love
        However, mercy is gained
        By looking beyond

        And should he see all stars in sight
        Then a world would open
        Perhaps causing him fright

        He is a man who knows one word
        “Me” it is and all else absurd
        The stars still twinkle for they who see
        We can only pray that
        He shall bend his knee


        1. Trump is a narcissist with an inferiority complex faced with a fear of women. You never know which hat he will be wearing indicative of schizophrenia. Why anyone would want an abnormal person afraid of everything in the White House is beyond me. .

          Liked by 1 person

            1. What you give out is what you will receive back in return. Jesus gave out love regardless of who or the circumstances. He slept in back of a boat on rough seas. Could Trump or anyone in Congress do that?
              We tare down others to build up ourselves. We all have an inferiority complex. It is stronger in some than it is in others. We have to learn how to compensate for our inferiority. Christ is supposed to be our compensation at all times and in all places. Hope you don’t mind my comments. James Horn

              Liked by 1 person

                    1. I held a poetry contest where I was not included as a judge and that was for fairness purposes. Yes, we are to challenge and support one another without hostility. I only wish that time allowed me to be more abliging to others.

                      Working interferes so often. There is so little time in a days reading and writing. One becomes hectic in choosing freee time wisely.

                      Happy writing Jim.

                      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you Lynz… I meant to make a folder for these just for keeping, but posted them instead of keeping in draft… But thank you because you tolerated the disorganized appearance ! Thanks YOU!

      Liked by 1 person

Thanking all lovely thoughts today

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