More Summer Poetry 2016

Writing on FB @ The Poets Haven with Alan Boles




In 1745, the apothecary

Time stands still, peering at the past

The chemists lived making potions 

Between dust and rats

Gadgets like compasses hung

Amidst glass vials and bronze knobs

Keys to hidden compartments

Silver ladles and candelabras

Joseph Black isolates CO2 

An odd phenomena of “fixed air.”

The healers of the early ages

The fearful labelled witches 

And, often then burned






The Bird

Perching on a window seal 

With quill and paper imaging

Distracted by a thought

Exploring the unique meanderings

Of an early morning creation

Just sitting at the window

A bird catches my sight

Staring the feathered sparrow

Seems to ask, a crumb, I eat

And my writing takes another path

Because a little bird entered my notion

Thinking about Emily Dickinson







Ions pass and people die 

But books left behind time and death

The future remembers our ghost that linger

Some will cry reading the pasts recorded

In romance, in texts, in diaries and Bibles






Each life is a story written within a story.

A book with moving pictures 

A book who’s ending, we write






Lavender and blue berries in a wooden bowl

Chocolate and cinnamon and aromas galore

Visual images, aromatic delusions, a memory

Perhaps scenery, placed within our energy

Recording the goodness of bounties

Mixed with human kindness

A life desired so simple

So fragrant 







A word arises, “Do!”

Sending norepinephrine whirling

Straightway to be

In utter confabulations

A mind unrestful 

Held captive by a demon whispering suggestions





A mountain stands, so climb

Exhilaration, reaching the summit 

Peace, before the descent

Pray, few rocks and cliffs present

The valley has green fresh grass

A clean stream of faith abounds

And God lets an eagle soar

But, the eagle too, will rest in the valley






Life Force
I meant to have the purest spirit
As to look angelic, and holy
Thus in my life, affording this
And death be eluded by this raven

This raven stands collecting my life
It’s ears hear not my prayers
But that fowl governs life or death
Then, grace may it be aware

Humbly petitioning noble men
Mantaloo, I seek with supplications
Request that this bird flee
Graciously give me rest, I seek

That a Raven refutes Elohim’s designs
On this shall I trust my existence
Sucking the elements of force home
In turn, the Raven returns my life
And exits south thus taking flight


*** Mantaloo my creation for the name of a demigod***



Thank you for taking your precious time to read my poems. May you walk in God’s grace and light….




K♣️©2016 Bonnie Jennings. All Rights Reserved

The Synopsis of The Secret Lives of fairy Godmothers, Witches and Angels By Bonnie Jennings


The Synopsis of

The Secret Lives of fairy Godmothers, Witches and Angels

By Bonnie Jennings



“Joy to the world the Lord has come!” On the side, of an Appalachian Mountain, sitting so cozy on a mountainside, is a place, so rightfully named, Glory Town. This was, at that time, the quaint picturesque home of “Cat Dubois,” whom at five years of age, moved with her family from Europe, to this heaven on Earth. Or, was it really? The year they arrived was 1957 and Cat grew from a child who was special ~ gifted to an adult woman. However, little Cat healed hurt animals, she instinctively knew that living creatures and plants have a life force and she tapped into it so naturally. The knowledge and understanding of the source of God or The Universe, would always create problems for Cat, throughout her life. The girl, the teenager and the adult woman, Cat Dubois, searched for acceptance and love, in a legalistic community, of “believers,” in Glory Town. Cat’s journey, in the story, is to find love, self acceptance in her adventure of living, When, in her mid twenties, she asked for divine help for the last time; however, she forgot about asking.


“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.”


This story is often painful, lonely, sad and feels desperate. As, Cat Dubois grows into adulthood, many tragedies occur. Forty-five years of troubles, she suffers major losses. Her best friend, her soulmate, Daniel Davis, who was a local pastor’s son, was forced to leave Glory Town at eighteen years of age. He announces his alternative lifestyle. This announcement led to Daniel’s eviction from his home. So, up the road and out of the town, on foot, he left, on a hot summer day.  Cat watches soberly, as he leaves. The exiling of her soul mate, affected Cat for the rest of her life. Sensitive Cat, suffered unimaginably. Many many upsets occurred. She was orphaned, in her early twenties, which made the isolation worse. A fire’s smoke and blaze took her barn and all the animals away, one afternoon. These tragedies, her loneliness, and the rejection from everyone in Glory Town, were contributing causes that led to addictions of the strange kind.


So, it is with heartwarming stories, where the Universe and/or God hears us, and responds to our human  petitions, it is then, Eleanor the English guide/angel/fairy godmother, the supernatural humorous being, came to help Cat Dubois.  Escorting Eleanor are other spiritual assistants: Tadhg, a supernatural golfing Scotsman, and ‘His Glove,’ a black cocker-poo dog, that Cat later names, Lovey. The three divine beings guide Cat to freedom and self love.











About Moi! The Bio of Bonnie Jennings

Mimsi Flowers and Notions

“Stop! Faeries or fairies, for those with vision and fancy only. The serious minded, NEED NOT ENTER. Go away. Close the door. Lock and bolt it from the thieves of imagination.” Bojenn (moi)


Welcome! By the way this is where you should feel welcome. So, why should you read my blog? Well, why not? You’ve read other’s. So, come on inside and fly with me as I tell you, why.

I wrote my serious bio and here it is as follows… I had written a sillier one, but decided to become more engaged in my writing as I’ve just completed a second novel….

The Bio of Bonnie G  Jennings or Bojenn

Bonnie Jennings was born in New Orleans, LA, USA and from there she moved with her family to several different paces, California, Oklahoma, Texas, Louisiana again, Arizona, Puerto Rico, Atlanta Ga, Miami and Ft Lauderdale Fl and…

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Thoughts About love: They didn’t read the fine print


Photo Stock images




Considering freedom

Knowing entrapment brings, an appreciation, of release

That’s why freed birds will, one day, sing, again.

But, unfortunately, it depends ~




There is no such thing

Someone will always insist, they’re right

Giving into their ego is futile

Giving into God is  another

Surrendering is a fine line




The victim secretly likes the role

Until ~

The lights come on inside

Then, they make great domineers 

They’ve learned well

The controller preaches down a throat

They curse them, deep inside a soul




Sweet vengeance, on the unassuming, the innocent

They thought, it sweet

After all, they looked at only the book cover

The illustration captured the eye

They didn’t read the fine print




And this is love

That you would hold my hand, as I yours

That you not tell me what to do, or say, and I promise the same

That you would like me whether skinny or fat

That you would laugh, and not growl

That would not lie

That you would not lean on me because you are weak

You married me so I would carry you

Sometimes we are intimidated by life, but ~

I can’t support your weight, all the time

I am not God




Kick or whip an animal, and I will ask you to leave, and never come back. You killed, my dog. And, honestly, I hate you. I can’t get over it.

Night terrors from your insanity haunt me. 



Once you looked at me

Utter fear ran through my bones

I’ve never seen that look before, except on murderers 

I was scared to death




Love is an exercise 

It is a practice that’s eternal

It is unattainable, nor perfected on Earth

It is the greatest commandment

Many think they’ve arrived

I’m cynical that arriving is possible.




Please, don’t come to visit me, if I’m ill, because it’s your duty

Come, because you love me and deeply want to see me

That is love

After all, in my weakness, I shall not want to distress you, one bit.

So go home, go away

It’s alright




I want you to know

That in the deepest parts of dreaming

You are there

I want to tell you, but I can’t 

When you were traveling

When you were far away in thought

When you were sad

And when you chuckled

I saw you

I loved you

But, now it’s too late


Oh, and by the way, did you tell your new bride she was number four, like you told me, when I was actually nine or ten?  

I just wonder sometimes…

Sometimes, there is a need to sympathize with your “girlfriends,” as you called them, but now I empathize.

Ironically, you always said, “I hate liars.”

And, I believed you! You had me fooled. 

What a joke. You’re a joke. You’re a liar.






Tolerance, I’m weird… No apology ~ Just, am

But, you are too














I ask God’s Angels to Help

I ask God’s angels to help me… Thank you angels, in advance…



Knowing some of their names and specialties is beneficial.

Ariel – “lion of God;” angel of protection, please help me from those who seek to injure, purger, pursuit me of raise the laws, injury, perjury or death towards me. Please, be with me. Thank you

Asteraoth – name of an angel who thwarts power., I ask you to stop any powers who are against me, in Yeshua’s name, Thank you

Ayil – angel of the zodiac sign Sagittarius, who is the leader of my rising sign. You who were in the East, guide me in perceptions and honesty. Yes, there is an angel over the zodiac signs…

Azbogah – name of the high ranking angel of judgment., cause all judgements against me to cease. In Jesus name, thank you.

Azriel – name for the angel of destruction, please remove any self destruction or any destruction from others, in Jesus name. Thank you.

Balthioul – angel with the power to thwart distress, cause any anxieties or worries I hold to leave in Jesus name. Thank you

Barakiel, please open my heart to good blessings. Take away my fears of being blessed or any lack of self worth that stymies my heaven presents. Thank you in Jesus name.

Barrattiel – angel of support, please come to hold me up. Thank you, in Jesus name.

Barbiel – angel of October, and my birth guide me. Thank you, in Jesus name.

Barman – angel of intelligence, please lend me more, than I can contain. Make me more quick-witted, than any enemy. Also, please help me with any forgetfulness. Thank you, in Jesus name

Baruchiel – angel with power over strife, give me power over problems. Thank you, in Jesus name

Bath Kol – female angel of divine prophecy. Pour upon me, your gift, that I might know of futures. In Jesus name

Briathos – name of an angel who thwarts demons, stop all demons assigned against me. In Jesus name. Thank you

Camael – angel name that means “he who sees God;” chief angel of powers, help me to see with divine eyes. Thank you in Jesus name

Cassie – angel of Saturn, help me to send Saturn away from me and towards my enemies. Many thanks in Jesus name. (Saturn is the planet of hard lessons)

Cerviel – angel ruler of the principalities, take down those in high places over me… Make them fail and fall in Jesus name. Thank you.

Chayyliel – angel whose name means “army;” a powerful angel, please stand in for me and be my army against those who seek to harm me. In Jesus name. Thank you.

Diniel – angel who protects infants, protect the children in question. In Jesus name, Thank you

Duma – angel prince of dreams, send me good dreams. Thank you, in Jesus name

Dumah – angel of silence. Quiet the enemy in Jesus name. Thank you

Eae – angel who thwarts demons., stop her demons and mine in Jesus name. Thank you.

Elyon – ministering angel who brought the plague of hail upon Egypt, please take away the attacks on me. In Jesus name.

Emmanuel – angel whose name means “God with us.” Thank you for being with me.

Gabriel – archangel whose name means “man or hero of God.” Please make me this in Jesus name. Thank you.

Gadiel Please release me from all my negative energy and thoughts that prevent my blessings. Release me from conscious or unconscious blocks to blessings. Show me the way. Thank you in Jesus name.

Gamaliel you are the greatest giver. You love to give miracles. Please look at me and see that I’m worthy to be honored with your miracles. Please and thank you in Jesus name

Gzrel – angel who revokes any evil decree against another in heaven, please revoke any weapons formed against us. Thank you, in Jesus name.

Hamaliel – angel who rules the order of virtues, please help me and others… In Jesus name. Thank you

Harahel – angel who oversees libraries., please confuse my enemies, with records kept. Thank you in Jesus name (Remember in The Psalms, David asks this)

Hasdiel – angel of benevolance., I ask for kindness in the name of Jesus. Thank you

Heman – angel leader of the heavenly choir, whose name means “trust.” Please give me trust and faith in Jesus name. Thank you

Hermesiel – angel who leads one of the heavenly choirs, help me/us to sing again. Thank you, in Jesus name

Hofniel – ruling angel of the bene elohim; name means “fighter of God.” Please war on my behalf. Thank you, in Jesus name

Iofiel – archangel whose name means “beauty of God.” Please send to me your supernatural beauty in Jesus name, thank you

Jehudiel – archangel who rules the movements of the celestial spheres. Please move for me, on my behalf. Thank you in jesus name

Jeremiel – archangel whose name means “mercy of God.” Please in Jesus name, Thank you, We need grace and mercy

Kabshiel – angel of grace and favor…. Thank you in Jesus name

Miniel – angel invoked to induce love. Thank you, in Jesus name

Nathanael – angel ruling over hidden things, fire and vengeance., please in Jesus name, We need your help. Thank you

Pathiel please open my/our gates of manifestation. My wish list is:   *****  for any prosperity. Thank you, in Jesus name (yes, prosperity is a good thing)

Pesagniyah – angel who ushers prayers of grief to heaven. I am sad about …. list your sadness and griefs.  Please, help me/us. Thank you, in Jesus name

Purah – angel of forgetfulness. Bring clarity to my mind. In Jesus name. Thank you




Razed with the wisdom of the universe, please fill me with the wisdom that I need to prosper abundantly. Thank you, in Jesus name.

Sarakiel – angel who rules the ministering angels. Send your angels to comfort me. Thank you, in Jesus name

Sophia – angel whose name means “wisdom.” Please Sophia come. In Jesus name and thank you

Umabel – angel of physics and astronomy. Please give me insight. Thank you in Jesus name

Yehudiah, the benevolent angel of death. Please be kind at my death and the deaths of all my love ones. Thank you in Jesus name

Yerachmiel – an archangel who rules earth. Show me where to gain prosperity honestly through ?… Be specific to your hearts desire…  Thank you in Jesus name

Zachariel – angel governor of Jupiter. Oh please abundantly bless me/us financially, in health, in creativity, in ideas, joy, singing, writing, drawing and in family. Thank you, in Jesus name… Thank you Jupiter represents abundance and joy, and blessings of great overflowing.

Zaphkiel – archangel whose name means “knowledge of God.” Please bless me/us greatly in Jesus name. Thank you

Zazriel – angel whose name means “strength of God.” Please grant me strength. Thank you, in jesus name.

Zehanpuryu – high ranking angel whose name means “one who sets free.” Please set me free from the bondage of  ?   Please direct me to ?  In Jesus name, thank you

Zophiel – angel whose name means “God’s spy.” Please go before me and give me the scoop/intuition… Thank you, in Jesus name…

Zuriel – angel ruler of the principalities whose name means “my rock is God.”

Be my rear guard, and surround me at all times and my family. In Jesus name. Thank you…



And, these are just a few names and ranks of angels…

Names can be found in The Gnostic Gospels

The Book of Enoch and other writings

Also see these sites with their links:


Recognizing Soul Gifts as a fellow enchanting blogger


Soul Gifts 

And this Sunday morning, I want to recognize another WordPress blogger who’s page brings so much hope and happiness. She likes green and that is one of my favorite colors.

So, I introduce you to the magical wisdom of a WordPress friend, who I know as Soul Gifts, and that is what her page is all about. She resides in Australia.

She will feed your soul and take you to a happy place with all of her poetry and writing. Also, she uses herbal remedies and essential oils to heal.



Two links to her page are:


Thank you for bringing to others healing by your words and wisdoms.



Recognizing Debra @ Jaguar Spirit



Always inspiring, teaching others, American Indian Wisdom, Debra @ The Jaguar Spirit’s on WP must be recognized and celebrated.

Thank you Debra for lending the world your native American Indian knowledge ….





Today, Saturday, I have recognized Debra, @The Jaguar Spirit, and her blog on my WordPress blog. Debra was selected because, she is inspiring and informative. She amazes me and I feel a connection to her American Indian spirit. ….

I love to visit your site, Debra. Thank you for being a guiding force giving the world your golden nuggets of divine wisdom and love. XOXOXO

You will find Debra’s blog at this link:




We’re Captives


Free Stock Images Wallpaper Google


Rhetoric! Over and over again, we hear
The same old arguments, year after year
Fooling around with mankind’s minds
You hide cleverly and can’t be found

The TV newsman reports, as they’re told
Edited, slanted, from whence banks hold
Merely slaves, to things, and slaves, who hear
Lies, tales, agendas, hidden, we’re captives

Sleep if you must, you’re probably ~ better off
Believe the TV bullshit, from comics and lust
Fall into traps, like mines strategically underground
Step on one, break your mother’s back, holy to you ~ not them.

Go to church on Sunday, play their good game
Cause no rifts, nor trouble, don’t question or blame
Follow the pope, Buddha, follow Christ, follow fame
They don’t care, just play, and appear extremely tame.

Raise no hopes, raise no questions, vote for someone
It doesn’t matter, they’re from the same, there’s no freedom
The banks, the educational system, and then there’s ~ medicare 
Look behind the smokescreen, but say, very little, you’re not alone.

©2016 Bonnie Jennings All Rights reserved…

There Are Times To Ask Angels For Help

My late mother, Babe. She will watch over me




There are times to ask angels for help

So standing in prayer, I address the North

Asking reasons for my birth ~


Summon, Angel Pronoia, who helped make mankind, I ask him, how I was designed?

Perhaps, Pronoia will show me, using a marvelous sign. I pray.


Turning to my West ~

Then, to understand my purpose, summon Angel Haziel whose name means “vision of

God,”and then, what is seen for me? I feel lost and confused on the right path to be.

Perhaps, Haziel, will show me my way.


Looking South ~

Searching for truths, Angel Iaoel, will send a dream or perhaps a vision, of where to be.

And, I will wait in anticipation, for the truths.


Facing West ~

Asking for enlightenment and knowledge, of the right road to travel, ask Angel Barman  the angel of intelligence.

Show me, for without your direction, I will not know the road to meander. My feet are weary for going alone, and, thank you, I know you’ll hand me the formulas.


And please don’t leave me, my wise mother … Help me travel, the road is dusty.








There Are Three Keys


Photo Stock from A Poet’s Haven



There Are Three Keys


“A key has been left you, in the will.” He handed me a silk scarf delicately folded.

Unwrapping the silky envelope, examining rust and tarnish, a singular clue, one key.

Perplexed about the lock, that it opened, t’was baffled, I contrived no confabulations,

Forgetting the inheritance, dismissing it, as gaff, went about my life, without any stash.

Disappointed that millions weren’t left to me, per se, continued life, as any other day,

A mail deliverer entered, “Special delivery, Mrs. Brown?” An envelope, was tightly bound.

Lifting out an old tattered leather book, with a weathered lock, secured and without a key.

A key in hand, an old tattered locked book, then, opened memoirs of elegant penned cursive.

I studied the pages, sitting in the dark, noticed a mystical treasure shining, in the light.

It meant nothing, sadly I discerned. Threw the book in a drawer, out of sight, out of mind.

Unknowingly, in that drawer is a book, that is a key, to the mysterious enigma, that is for me.

So reading that book, that held answers, opened my mind to avenues, of an intrepid future.

Examining the pages, holding under lights, studying the swerves, of gold leafed penned cursive.

Pondering in dreams, doors and windows, running halls, dangling keys, searching reasons.

Knew that understanding the paragraphs written in strange passages, unlocked mysteries.

T’was the key, that is needed, to interpret the essences, within the script of advancing.

So I studied, interpreted, pondered and wrought, seeking the answers with the scribbles.

Then slept, thinking, thinking, thinking of any riddle answers, for any elusive questions.

Finishing the masterful story, the book of illuminating majestic discoveries, saw nil.

And under my nose, seen by my eyes, ignored by my mind, were signs unexplored.

Three portents warned of failing to find, a key to interpret the hidden illumines signs.

And I, sat scratching my troubled head, wondering what was the key to the omens.

Frightened a little, should I not find, the keyhole, the lock and have nothing to turn.

The mysterious book compelling lyric tales, of finding golden nuggets, in my head.

And honestly, I couldn’t find the key, though it told me to look, in the mirror, at me.

Wanting gold, and silver, the mirror spoke, desiring precious treasures, is within.

There are creative pebbles, falling from heaven, surrounding men, every moment.

Reaching in faith is the final key, believing their yours, to do, as you please.

Realizing then, three keys came to me, by inheritance.

One key opens a legendary book.

The second key opens understanding,

And the third key is believing in self. The faith for having fortune.






Copyright © 2016 Bonnie Jennings. All Rights Reserved

Calling upon Angels to Help Mankind and Animals, Now




We are sons of God and have been given certain powers through our God. He told us to use the powers to heal, protect, to do warfare, to stand against them, to resurrect the dead, to love despite all things in his name.

Therefore today we seek divine intervention for our world, for our communities, for our loved ones and family, and for those who are sick and are hurt and those that are grieving. We also ask divine intervention or our animals, our streams, our forests and our world, at large.

We call upon God’s angels for help, now.

We’re calling upon Arael or Uriel, the prince angels over people, to help us by guiding us correctly.

We ask Araqiel, who has dominion over our earth, to stand guard, for men and animals  protection.

We demand that Azrael, the archangel of death, rest and leave us for now.

We tell Azriel, the angel of destruction, to leave us.

We ask Balthioul, angel to thwart distress for us, now.

We ask Baruchiel,  to give us power over strife.

We ask Briathos, to thwart the demons, unleashed on us.

We ask to see God, as Camael, chief angel, of powers of the Earth.

We ask Cerviel, the ruler of the principalities, to defend us against those in high places: Governments, rulers, kings and legislators, forces that control the human race, to stand for our needs and protect us.

We ask Emmanuel, to bring God with us. We need our good god.

We ask Halaliel, to forgive our negative karma or our negative reaping and sowing. Any wrongs we have done to others, animals or earth. Any deaths to unborn children, be forgiven, and protected.

We ask Marmaroth  to thwart our fate, though we deserve perhaps worse than we imagined.

We ask Miniel, to induce love of mankind and animals. To stop any suffering from our hands. To stop any abuses we have caused.

We ask Nahaliel to protect our running streams, and help us gain back fresh pure water.

We ask Miniel to induce love of humans, the unborn, children and animals.

We ask Shepherd to bring sorrow and repentance of the acts we have done knowingly or unknowingly. Bring to our minds, the pain we have caused others.

We ask that, both angels, bring us heavenly divine music, Heman and Hermesiel , so we may be blessed with grace, mercy and love of all things great and small.

We ask that God be with us today.


I pray in the name of Yeshua and you may pray or ask in the name of your belief system…

Lets get this going and taken care of…

Let there be peace on Earth and let it begin with me….and you.




The War Has Begun




Put down all bickering and strife between friends. Let’s turn our eyes towards the heavens. Things are happensng that are more important. Don’t become distracted. Remind each other of the smokescreens sent to distract and confuse each other. There are huge happenings in our world now. There are spiritual forces at work. Some are in high places and some forces surround you and I. Their intent is to make us fight, quarrel, and disagree. No one is exempt. Put on your armor. The battle has begun. Please know the news is the largest propagator of those forces. Guard yourself from believing everything they report.

July 6, 2016 South Tyler, TX, 2 miles North of Bullard, Tx


July 6, 2016

South Tyler, TX, 2 miles North of Bullard, Tx

A little after 8 pm

SSW moving slowly NNW


A brilliant light in sky

No other stars visible in any part of any of the sky

Caught my sons eyes because it was so brilliant. He’s not a UFO fan…


I took pictures anyway…

These are the same object with different lenses and enlargements…




Choeung Ek
The American Killing Field
Selfish rights?

“The right to have men not legislate women’s wombs.”

Fine, but who defends the unborn’s rights?

Usually men, and the majority of those many men don’t stick around to raise the fetuses, feed them, cloth them, or help once older. Most of the men, don’t put them through college.

The point is this:

Fetuses, the unborn, don’t they have rights?

The news and educators tell us to abort because of the expenses that it will cost a country by taking away tax money, would/is enormous.

I agree, but still, there is a problem that is huge. The moral aspect of abortion, haunts many of us. Especially those of us who in times past, suffered under the knife of and abortionist.

I don’t claim any answers, but in my heart, I know, beyond a shadow of doubt, abortions are wrong.

Perhaps the most haunting question is, I want to know, where are the remains of my fetus?

Did you sell them? You never told me. Where are they now? Did someone wear their collagen in make-up or hair products?

I want to know. I have right’s too…

They have their right’s, as well.

I will not go silently into our future…






Summer 2016 Before the Election


UFO’s over my house 2014… I believe


Summer 2016 before the election

What election?

They’ve rigged it.

Who are they?

I’m not quite sure, but ~

My heart knows all is not well

Nothing is as it seems.

We’ve been duped


Why vote?

Because you must give an appearance of participation.

They watch and see…



And, the news media

How do they sleep at night?

Adrenalin is hard to tame without Ambien

They take Ambien.


Always waiting for The Next Big Story

They’re ready to pounce

Like hawks on road-kill

Dangling their supper

On televisions every where

Sick. We are sick.

We thrive on gore

We thrive on another’s pain

God forgive our carnivores appetites

We are depraved.

And, I’m no better


I hate the basterds 

My Poems… Oldie’s but goodies

My Poems

By Bonnie Jennings

Dedicated to my sister, Carol and my children Elysia and Joel

And Lastly to my grandson Jacob




Forest Man

Like a drug; I’m compelled.

An index finger points the way.

The path covered in vagueness.

Only trust leads my day.

The forest is my storybook.

Few paths I’ve known.

Some are smooth and uneventful.

Some are treacherously bare.

Once a lesson completes.

And a short respite occurs.

The forest fairies find me.

And, another adventure is assured.

My feet are weary from twists and stones.

Tripping along the way.

But nonetheless, the spirits find me.

And again, I’ve nothing to say,

Excuses are lame.

Whining creates more.

So, quietly I proceed.

Wandering, the magic roads of lore.

Passing through the brush.

Carrying my satchel of prayers.

Perhaps I’ll pass a man.

A man who relinquishes terrors.

And I’ll look for him in the forest.

There, pray he shall find me.

Illuminate, our eyes will sparkle.

Then, my spirit shall be set free.




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.






Autumn Weaving

The Witchcraft  of Life Dedicated to my mother, Babe


Weave in and out skip two colors of dreams

Raise the level of forest green

now circle around the lights magic stream.

Yellows and oranges

Parfait and red

perfect strands of marbled threads


Dashing there yonder up over Mars

bringing back a handful Stars


Wild horses charge

Black stallions at night

Taming the dragon with beacons of light


Casting them into fortune and fame

Causing the wind

Making it bend.





There Is A Road

There is a road we choose to take

There are several before us

The one we choose becomes our fate

The others we could have meandered



Manifesting Sophia


Standing next to The Rivers of Babylon we prayed.

I told you to whisper, Sophia, and there on the banks edge,

She will breathe.

In your loneliness, you will cry,

In solitude, you shall find her.

Standing, by the fresh spring waters,

Her voice, will arise new,

Believe, child.

Unless you know, she won’t come.

She cannot sojourn the dead,

Not, without your certain, hope.

Only, in the voice filled with life,

Shall she manifest.

The lifeless carry no spirit.

The initiator needs the spark.

Speak, and Sophia will sing.

Listen, and her song, you will hear.

Smile when you know.

She came because you asked.





Finding Home Again


“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…







Shadow People

Shadows on my walls are silent
Yet, wield stories; often violent
Because messages must be told
Within my self, my heart does hold
And the stories that were uttered
Hushed intrusive others
Surrounded by the shadowy figures
In silence, I mouthed their nameless brothers
Walking in the past held memories
The dreams of my enemies
Explaining their inner pains
Listening, though I kept their refrain
Then my pneuma knew for certain
The tear of that curtain
From whence the shadows came
Stepped out from him and is to blame
And in the darkness were several lights
Beaming hundreds, of tiny sights
Music heard from here and there
Sounds vibrating ghostly everywhere
And the birth of a tiny star did shape
Within that void
Troubled stories within shadows of souls
Well, laugh at me if you must!
The lost brothers who had no trust
Listen cowards with opened ears
Listen closely they’ll be no cheers
The words will not be enough
silently whispered and then hushed
Forever silenced, within, she wept
There the crowds morned her loss
Though misunderstood dimmed her gloss
There she stood amidst her kin
She glowing from within
She held a sign for all to read
“The shadows are no longer silent, indeed”
And her peace finally came resting
When the ghostly images retreated from molesting


Elysia, my daughter


A vision, there, a fairy bright

She bends to touch flowers of lights

Am I dreaming or is this real?

The most beautiful place, is so surreal.

May I stay here, but for awhile?

No, not now, but may visit, my child

How may I come, If there’s no road?

At nighttime, while sleeping, from your abode

We’ll come and escort you when dreaming assured

And let you play amongst Elysium’s flowers and stars







Winter Fairies

Then Beauty, Takes Her Leave, as The Evil SH’man Sleeps (part 2)


Black night comes, alone and cold.

Smart beauty sleeps warmed

By hands that fold.

In quietness the present enemy waits. Beauty taunts not.

She need not…

For time be her friend. Coldness aligns her side

And loneliness sang lullabies to her; “sleep child sleep.


The fight grows small.

Sleeps on the horizon; it calls.

Hearing distance voices my eyes rest.

The hills and a mountain melody lays sleeps fog.

I answer…

Can you hear it, as well? He snores…

“Gently gently, sleep.”

Beauty crawls from fingers once tight.

Careful, careful…

Not, to awaken the captures soul ~

She’s played before..

However, it’d grown old.

She plays well.

A champion for sure.

Quietly quietly

“SSH”…says She,”Awaken not my game.”

“Comes tomorrow a fair shame is he.”

“Foe rest; later your dare…”

“Truth? Ha!”

“Thought you had me?”

“You foolish sh’man.”

“Look! Who has who.”

“Thought you’d won?”


“Surely thought? I’d not get away?”

Ah…Before Daylight shines…

“One last game..It affords me so…”

Whispers stories in midnight sleep.

You’ll think strange, “God’s” voice for certain.

Magical messages, images, songs and words;

“God’s, not His at all…!”

Ah Hah!!

“Goody, goody for me.”

“One more time before nights end

Can bully jab my soul.”


Then; Beauty declares her win…

Her long fairy fingers reach for the harp.

The soul of her game?

To pluck his “F” sharp…

“Bold challenges,” said Beauty, “HIS love I detest,

But, as He has made it, I surrender my quest.”








The King’s Duel

The Final Question?



Can the deep insightful King of Clubs raise the final victory

over the overachieving game playing

often clever king of Diamonds?

Swords raised

Not a final nod, displayed

Eyes glaring steel blue and hazel green facial lines fixed

Not even a twitch.

Slowly woven like the Earth to the Moon

Moving like a dance made a circlular pattern

On the floors of onyx black

The King of Diamonds so sure of himself believed, no fight

From the Club herself,

But the Club held dear the truth in her heart

The Lord Almighty was there

Right from the start.

Round and round so slowly they moved.

The Diamond King’s lips snarled a smirk

As he spit tw’ord ‘er shoes.

And the King of Clubs shot darts of fire

Her eyes told, “Hee’za liar!”

The one eyed King

Dazzled with diamonds galore

But, The King of Clubs kept her mind on the chore.

Over and around the blades slowly moved

Then picked up the pace without any shoes…

Cling, clang, ding and gwong the blades met rangling a song

“All shiny and strong, the song of a Savior,

That life is a gift given by Him

And though expect treasure we don’t always win…”

And so,

The Kings welded their swords in the air

Cutting their skins and toppling their hair.

No whining nor whimpering came from the two

But fierce well bred bickering whipped whistled twang pue.

The blades never ceased the clang of the strikes,

Faster and harder beaten the life

Of one Diamond King and the other a Club

But The Savior stepped in to straightened their thuds.

Now, it came to pass

That The Diamond King tipped his hat,

And gave up his crown, and that; was that.

And The King of Clubs surrendered a heart at a cross

On a hill~ decidedly smart.

For the hill is where all kings will bow made not of fools… but of heroes,

Those, i am’s, of Thou art




The Galaxy Dancer

Dedicated to my sister Carol, December 27, 2012


The spectacular stars sprinkle the sky

Illuminating El Elyon’s pristine palette

A comet wisps from East to West

As the watchers question all, the whys.

The moonbeams cast light on her fragrant path.

There, the sunlight etched traces of her distant past.

Oh, how she longs for the answer.

Hiding mysterious memories of the galaxy dancer

Of stars that sparkle on Christmas Day,

To bare and to embrace her

Time will heal the eternal thunder

Once danced by the gypsy wonder,

And her legacy within the heart

Within the life of the star dancer.







Urdu for my mother, Babe


Pour, into my cup, come in the slumbers of dawn

Cast away the ash and sackcloth, granted life

The pheonix landed to visit awhile

Tomorrow the bird takes flight


When the Morning Dove sings her songs

We who hear her cheerful melodies

Good morning lovely lady!

You know how a birds song embraces

Man to his God


Do come again at least one more day

On Wednesday, remember to pray


A satchel of poetry rests over my shoulder

A silver pen, parchments and paper, and a journal

Laying them next to the wine on the blanket next to you

And you are Mars to me, and I Venus


Desires of fame and wealth beyond needs

And some want the end of the world to come

But he who demands the payout and dismisses the harbingers

Will not hear the tuning of the trumpeters call


The vigor and youthful spirit bursts

When rooting, by connecting to the dirt

The heat of summer and thirsty blood

Lasts numbered seasons of the young

Tis the man who hungers knowledge

Their roots die under drought and swelters

But, I barely remember

Hah, seems long ago, thoughts of flaming embers






Summer Fantasy


Sweltering warmth, the sweat on her brow, bare feet, sum- mer’s eve

Writing novels, living romances, the aromatic honeysuckle sways

Torrid senses baking, the rays of sun, beaming on damp flesh

On the gentile porch, Southern columns, historic moments

Gentlemen whose ladies dawned petticoats in late May

Brunette curly tendrils fell on rosy cheeks, is dreamy

Imagining a romantic encounter, that hot afternoon

Dashing Captain Henry, caused his way, riding

Offering the lady, his rearing steed, accepted

Riding through tall grass, hidden, no sight

Lying, lusting, allowing warm seduction

Arousing passions, barding novels

Noetic the frivolous few hours

Being adored by captains

Sensual summers days

My Henry who equals

Guiltless fantasy

Perfected man

No blushing








Jo Jo who returned to Heaven July 20, 2015

My Little Jo Jo

My darling dog



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

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.




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





Razzle Dazzle

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.




Winter Fairies

My Family


Cold, cold, cold the morning; cold.

Coffee warms my hands.

Unraveling memories; seeming dull

Still night dreams, do unfold.


Low clouds covered the forest

Eyes that see not before us.

But, follow the pale path

Neath the weary feet.

See it! There! Underneath!


Wet leaves covered the way.

Then look closely if you may.

Sprinkled sparkling faerie dust

Shimmers neath the leaves.

And, if you follow the shining lights

Those sights shall take the lead.

Following the strath of twigs and weeds …

Growing near the path

The wetness of the leafy stuff

Still bares the night time mask…

Here, there, turns and twists

Mark a path which won’t resist.

All night long seeking an end.

Running, skipping and stumbling on shin.

Searched, knocked, and sought

Only not to find

Any faerie myths… Oh, how my heart… Does pine.

I tired of your game, Oh, Faerie

Running your path night long.

Then decided I,

Best to wander home.

And, vaguely remembering sanity

Since safety departed me,

Calling from the woods

It growled ferociously.

Sad and disturbed

Missed you again!

And, lowering my face,

Bares a fools return.

Hey, Look yonder!!! There! My Mims!

To be greeted by their love!

The open arms of my kin.

My family who loves me dearly,

And they who prayed me home that night.

Even despite myself.


Even despite myself.






February 14th

A Valentine to Me


Embracing me; smothering me.

Your insecurities extinguished my flame

You said, “I love you,” way too many times

But, I’m not sure,

Because, I don’t think you love yourself


Venus didn’t bless our love

Tried so hard to force you

Stood upside down on my head

Flipped for you to wed

Became what you wanted, yes

Though, Jupiter was un-expansive

Because, Saturn ruled instead

Had to walk away

No energies to play

For’ Saturn ruined our day


Eros love is lust

If there is phileo love

It will arise

There is no need to force the feeling

In time, if love is missing

Then, we’re dismissed

Hey, let’s not forget to smile

Being free

No condemnation

Agape’s love is


I bought myself chocolate today

And a message

In the red floral bouquet

I sent these

To me

The message said, “I LOVE YOU!”




My Fire Drake

Over the land covered in suet, singed by storms of fires The Fire Drake surveyed for any breath of life remaining The humans decidedly in unification ended all existence Hovering over Elysium once occupied by eternal Spring The Drake came to rest on wet wood washed to the shore It considered all things and then after time it took to flight Once there was a place called Heaven and now it’s forever lost



~ And then, the angel shouted, their ears perked

Those waiting replied ~ “We are gathered here ~ hiding.”

The tales are true, dear majesty, and we doubted

And, with a wisp, they and the pheonix departed



A marionette addressed The Lord one day

Asking how long shall I live? Will you make me a talisman

Or suffer me just simply to exist

On a shelf of an owner most troubling

Perhaps send me a lover whose humbling

Will the skies remain blue and the sun always shinning

Tell me Lord, is there a silver lining

Looking around at the puppets, other

Please, on my journey, please send a mother

One who will love and sustain me

And keep me from the fire and the drowning tsunami


I captured my Fire Drake using my cell phone, 2012 bonfire




Winter Poetry

Circle of Life


rolling slowly quietly assured with December’s presence 
uncovering the steal bleakness of chills
the grey fox sought the superlative time stalking
hunting, one catch, the hare eating thorns, is captured
All rests except the fox, and the hawk that swoops prey
and beautiful it seems to carolers that dream
pictured on Christmas Cards sleighing coupled in hay
but the hunted sigh as the singers pass by
ignoring the innocent life in the forest by night
really wintery rest is not what it seems
The white witch cursed the greens for 3 months
laughing, she pointed t’wards the fox and the hare
the hawk she invites on her evening animal hunts
while the fox, hiding and embarrassingly shares
dear rabbit if only there was another way to convey
my condolences and my fondness, for you, today
The fawn born in grey thicket that night
a hunter was on track for a meal, of the carnivores type
deep in silence, bitter coldness, that eve less bright
their faces showed meanness,  sickeningly alarming
hungry for killing the innocent and without any lament
the damp floors lined with twigs and leaves sent
warning there are trespassers entered our forest
and without invitation, the hawk soared forewarning
the dove in turn echoes cooing which entered space
of ears the fox alarming, the furry rabbit crosses into the thicket
noosing the doe and the fawn warmed coddling
stay within this eve the thicket safe from guns
the hunter’s love winter’s and the innocent blood
And the white witch carries on until spring
stay here little doe while your mother brings the cud
the sleet drizzling rains seem never to bring
peace within the forest it seems
and life circles around the fox and the hare
and the buzzards that hunt the carcass from the air



the crimson red male Cardinal bird clicks perching for frosty cold wintery pics

the wee rabbit at midnight gathers hay hopping away at first rays of day

the foxes nibble on berries and toads

amidst grey thickets unseen by casual roads

oh, how the woodlands govern the creatures of the Earth

majesty rules of thumb

holding all judgement until the time comes






We Prisoners

The cloud of grey fog veiled the city

On the streets empty; seemed people

The cabs looked vague, as if a ghost

Amidst the surrounding ashy buildings posts

The speeding of vehicles was just, an image

Now the pale streets dusty, with damage

Oh man, embrace and comfort and know

Bring back the lights and the glow

Of enchanting memories of useful lives

To hold them in love and break all lies

Do come to find us here underneath

We captives who’ve been under siege




Feverish Drreams

One time, it was at midnight, feverish thoughts invaded

t’was many repressed fears and woes cerebrally persuaded

there laying on damp pillows tossed

came a tapping of a ghost seemingly lost

as if there was a distant message

rapping so gently donning a persuading vestige

I bid the ghoul farewell in hopes that it not dwell in my mind,

while I slept, feverish dreams foretell



November it was, damp and the air chilled

Alone without humans but with animals filled

The room and was company for a unfulfilled soul

Who convalesced alone standing at the gates of scheol




T’is an antique brass urn


Now the coldest day at noon

And the crystals snowflakes gather

There is a prism in my room

Its cold in here I noticed, picking up your urn

Speechless, I stood, having nothing to say

In quietness, from my eye, as I began to turn

A white feather floated, lingering in a sun-ray

Dangling freely in the air, it looked, if to loom

Are you here? I sober on this icy cold day

In the silence, hearing a specific tune

Outside blows the branches of a Willow

“Yes, though we were, be forever, as we may.“

It’s an antique brass urn

Now the coldest day at noon

And the crystals snowflakes gather

There is a prism in my room





To My Children


Have I told you that I love you

Do you know this fact my loves

And if time slipped away from our shores

And the Sun’s rays came no more

Would you still know I loved you

Far greater then time barriers ever knew

Passing that of the speed of light How great is my love for you two


Daughter and son




Goodnight Jacob

“The sleek cold turquoise forest of ice cycles simply welcomed the tired into it’s beauty. Crawl into the cradle, so cozy and warm, and the wind will sing lullabies to beckon sleep. The babies felt comforted by the hues and the limbs of branches that rocked the infants to the lands of the deepest slumbers. And there they schlafen until the fairy lights sent by the Sun awakened the babes and then another adventure soon promised to begin…”

Goodnight Jacob, Mimsy loves you!


My grandson



And, me.


Mimsi and Jacob Christmas 2014



Copyright © Bonnie Jennings 2009-2016®

No part of this poem may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way or form or by any means electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise without the written permission of the author, Bonnie Jennings


Sensing God Has a Plan



A warm delightful breeze blew gently on my face ~ When 

swinging from the chair this morning, thus realized

how grateful, I am, to feel God’s presence,  there ~

Becoming, part of his world, part of his plan:

Being one, with all things, connected to all:

The kittens play, the birds tease, the cat who ~

waits for that moment to pounce on prey. ~ I,

understanding nil, God’s cycle of living, dying

questioning the dying, and still asks him, why?

“It is part of the cycle. The life force,” and that’s His

Almighty reply.

Accepting concepts seemingly cruel and harsh

Watching the cat who’s pouncing on the mouse

Wanting to save the creature from terrors of death

Scolding the cat, whom God taught to maim 

“Not to harm the rat!” Despite God’s plan

I can’t watch. My heart hurts. Pain and sorrow

So, I turn my face to the warm breeze

Sitting on the summer swing

Sensing God has a plan

That which I don’t understand

Trusting is the goodness of man


©2016 Bonnie Jennings. Summer Poetry 2016. All Rights Reserved






A Summer’s Eve Poem 2016


Sweltering warmth, the sweat on her brow, barefeet, summer’s eve

Writing novels, living romances, the aromatic honeysuckle sways

Torrid senses baking, the rays of sun, beaming on damp flesh

On the gentile porch, Southern columns, historic moments

Gentlemen whose ladies dawned petticoats in late May

Brunette curly tendrils fell on rosy cheeks, is dreamy

Imagining a romantic encounter, that hot afternoon

Dashing Captain Henry, caused his way, riding

Offering the lady, his rearing steed, accepted

Riding through tall grass, hidden, no sight

Lying, lusting, allowing warm seduction

Arousing passions, barding novels

Noetic the frivolous few hours

Being adored by captains

Sensual summers days 

My Henry who equals

Guiltless fantasy

Perfected man

No blushing





©2016 Bonnie Jennings. All Rights Reserved

Summer Poems 2016




Feelings overwhelm my spirit knows that i belong

To sacred sisters dancing under moons lit nights

Holding hands, chanting, worshiping God’s lights

I am a daughter of the spirit who sets captives free

And for this reason, within me, is a hallowed song

This place is my home. From she, i arrived to see

Stone Henge lend its magic, for this, I came to be

©2016 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved


My Fire Drake


Ancient days and nights governed by RA

Galgaliel, Angel of The Sun, who watched

Evolving revolutions and speculations

Walking on sand and baring hot rays

Working under whips, the salivating slaves

Who is man, that you are mindful of him?

True are you? And man, the sin? Hush!

Whisper not of such things! Blaspheme!

To think outside the box. Wrong, to search

Fear that binds. Threats of death. Hell.

Not to know, to think, to believe, to see

Walk blindly, don’t touch. don’t meander

Questions forbade. Intelligence criminal

Believing as a baby, but don’t reach ~

Watching is old Galgaliel,

The Angel of The Sun..

©2016 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved



I like to play a game with my 5 year old grandson, Jacob, and it’s called:

Once Upon A Time.

Me: Once upon a time there was born a super hero who’s name is ?

Jacob: Bladidadadalala

Me: And where is Bladidadalala from?

Jacob: Bladidadalala is from Worshha.

Me: Oh so, how old is Bladidadalal, who live in Worsha?

Jacob: He’s old like you. He’s almost 100….

That is as far as we created…



Jo Jo who returned to Heaven July 20, 2015

The Glory of One Moment

I hold a ruby in my hand

Placing it nearest my heart

Encapsulated in the prism reds

A flashing moment of you zapped

Your energy penetrated my innards

When gone, I place you near my bed

K ©2016 Bonnie Jennings. All Rights Reserved



Sing a song enticing the strong

Making a heart to cry

The flute playing like butterflies

Creating a summer’s day

And children follow a bright star

Finding a place they may

Believe like the wind

Or faint by the sun

Only souls destiny shall say






Perhaps, I was dreaming. It was lucid and surreal.
A dusty book, from on a shelf, opened there, I stood
As the pages flipped, on their own, a familiar story
Became alive. There sailing on a calm ocean, lost
Page after page, isolated, alone, not worried, but ~
Sailing, sailing sailing, alone. And, three hundred-fifty
Pages turned, amidst a voidness, I’d never known
The Moon, as always, stood full over the night
Never daylight, just passing by ~ page after page.
Then, from page number three-hundred fifty-one
A lighthouse cast a beam, on cliff high, ~ and hopeful
Stood staring, at the tower. “On the next page,” thus ~
I asked, “Are you calling, and leading me home?”
And, there I waited, hoping the page didn’t turn
But, perhaps, page three-hundred fifty-two will ~
Unite me with my kin and take me home







K ©2016 Bonnie Jennings. All Rights Reserved

Imaginative Children, Are They Future Authors? Does your child change Medusa?


From Pinterest Images

Imaginative Children, Are They Future Authors?

So, it’s been said, regarding the odds of becoming a famous writer that, “4 out of 5 people, want to write a New York Times best seller, book.” Clearly, the odds of becoming a famous author are stacked against every writer. It maybe easier to win the many lotteries, which have a winner every day, somewhere.

Looking at the traits of many writers when younger, we will find a child who had/has/have an incredible imagination.

To watch for a potential child writer, one should notice and observe traits.  The traits vary, and these traits, I’ve listed, are certainly not (all) the characteristics of (all) young writers. But, these are a sampling or examples of some observations a parent may see in their youngster or youngsters.

Does the child change the story/stories that a parent reads them? Do they have another ending? And to add about this trait, it may occur at very young age. Perhaps, even before, age 2 or 3 and on up. It depends on how early the child was exposed to books and stories.

Does your child love stories? Do they open a book (often) without prompting by a parent? “Here, please, read this to me.” And, “No, that’s not how it ends, mommy/daddy!” They clearly change the setting, plot and characters…

Does your 7, 8 or 9 year old love to write poems and do they keep a diary or journal?

Has anyone accused your child of “not telling the truth?” Or, have they been accused of “lying?” Many times a young writer will suffer punishment for being creative. The parent may not understand, nor their teacher. Perhaps, the person who will/or has recognized this gift, in a child is someone who is also gifted… After all, as it’s said, “It takes one to know one.” Non creative people often become frustrated with the creative child. The parent or teacher is unable to understand the trait, they simply don’t resonate with a child who is unlike their self or themselves … They can’t.

On to the characteristics: Does your child make up better endings of stories, or more violent scenes, or change any part of their world that is unsatisfactory, as well as stories? Does your child perhaps change Medusa? I laugh at this statement, because this is what I did when I was a child. I made my mother change the snakes to dragons or horses, and my mother, always obliged me… She was a creator, as well.

Does your child pretend a lot? Do they have imaginary friends? Do they talk to themselves? Can they entertain themselves with fantasy for long periods of time? Are they as happy to be with themselves, rather than, being with friends?

Do they want to know historical facts? Are they obsessed with hearing other stories over and over again? Do they have foresight? Are they intuitive?

Do they live in a dream world? Do they daydream? Has the teacher at school gotten on your child for, “Not paying attention?” Perhaps, your child is partially listening, but is making the explanation better or more interesting… ?

Has your child been treated for a psychiatric disorder? Did they put your child on medications to clear up delusions, hallucinations or mental illness? Does your child have nightmares? Do they see things at night or day? Do they think the boogie-man is truly under their beds?

Now, please understand, there are mental disorders that do need to be treated. However, a consideration for imagination vs psychiatric diagnosis, must be clarified. Asking and verifying, are these behaviors an active imagination or symptoms of a psychiatric illness? (is absolutely necessary)

If your child is surely not suffering from psychosis or a mental illness, then it maybe a good idea to have your child placed in a group of young writers, poets, lyricists and artists. Often artists do suffer from some sadness like other non creative people do, but creativity plus sadness often is interpreted as mental illness. (Very sad face). The equation is not 1 + 1 = 2 …  It is merely 1, you have a creative child and 2, the child is depressed (like many uncreative humans). Too often, the 1 + 1 = 2 means a psych diagnosis, medications and a label that follows a child the rest of their lives. (very sad face, again).

Children will need to have this gift of imagination developed by the right person. It is a parental responsibility to help cultivate an imaginative child and to teach the child when to turn the fantasy off and when to create… After all, an imaginative child will create ALL THE TIME… that’s their gift, just like a vocalist or an artist of pictures …  Writers create worlds, kingdoms, magical places and wonderful stories if we nurture them, understand them, and assist them. For an example, if you forbade a writer or creator from mentally creating, they would not/could not stop imagining. It is as natural as a natural born vocalist. Writers are intuitive manifest-ors. They will need positive instruction and direction from someone who is also creative. They will need direction from a positive influence.

I don’t know about becoming a famous author, screenwriter, lyricists or poet, but I do know, from being a creative child, they will thrive in a protective, supportive environment and who knows what anyones future might be… Except the little author… Oh, they can create their world… It’s as far as their imaginations can venture…

Happy writing little ones…


Please feel free to write your experiences or your child’s character traits of being a writer… I would love to know yours…