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

 

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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.


 

 

LEAVING ADAM

Eons advance and passed away.

Thought, theory, speculation and opinions, die.

Glancing through lenses, and squinting, at the sky,

Adam, pointing, at the twinkling specs, named the brilliant ballet.

~

So, following mankind, up the mountain,

And ascending a rocky path; we embarked.

My feet followed his, upward, to where the sky was arched.

His staff pointed, and the heavens, then filled me, as a refreshing fountain.

~

An advocate of The Father of Man,

I desired what he sought,

Thus’ left the home of my family and upheld his zealous quest

Confidently, I abided and affirmed his every request.

Even, wore his belief’s; did just as he taught.

~

One day, dared I asked, Adam, the man of science, How is Eve today?

And, if looks could kill, then Eve is dead, thus’ left us only, to pray.

“Deceased, she is,” he answered, with a chill of neglectful defiance.

~

Man of Science, I spoke so boldly.

At the mountain top; we stand

The stars, you named, and held, in your hand,

However, love you murdered, so coldly.

~

This day, I choose the mother

Her love, which first found me

Within the warm and welcoming spirit, in there, dwells she.

And, today, I accept non-other.

~

So, progressing and moving towards her;

Over, the cliff of doubt, rapidly grabbing her hem, I aim.

Because, after carefully, considering your treacherous, pains,

There, in her grace ~ I seek her, safe harbor

~

I choose faith, that which, I cannot see.

 

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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.

 

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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…

~

 

 

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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

 

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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.

“SSH…Shh..

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?”

“Ha!!!”

“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.”

“NOT!”

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.”

 

 

 

 

 

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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.

 

 

 

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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

 

 

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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

Initiating

poetry

and

I.

 

 

 


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Jo Jo who returned to Heaven July 20, 2015

My Little Jo Jo

My darling dog

2009-7/20/2015

 

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.

 


 

Fairhope

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.

Whispering…

Low clouds covered the forest

Eyes that see not before us.

But, follow the pale path

Neath the weary feet.

See it! There! Underneath!

SHH!..silence!

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.

Yes…

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

 

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

 

 

 

Winter Poetry

Circle of Life

THE FOG OF DULL MOIST CLOUDS CLOISTERED EARTHS HILLS

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
 
 

 

MOTHER EARTH

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

 

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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

 


 

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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

 

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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!

 

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My grandson

 

 

And, me.

 

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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

 

Thanking all lovely thoughts today

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