A Door



Seeing the entrance berfore my feet

A door of wood with ingrained designs

Solid and impressive to stop the way

Perhaps it might, some other day


Stepping forward one step at a time

Slowly inching the way to grasp

The bronze latch seperating me from that

Mattered not for the doors, t’was the way out


It’s grandeur and powerful persuasions daunted

Any passing by for the dawdry unwanted

I couldnt help but want to wander inside

Beyond the veil of human asundries and peer behind


Turning the knob this way and that

Met resistence squirming it about

Breathed in and out gainning strenth to pass

Beyond the entrapment called human life


There is more behind that door

This was no secret for adventuers, for sure

Turning to the right and then to the left

Almost gave up on the mighty quest


Stood back and regained flustered compsure

Tackled the lock with a strong hammer

Though busting the bronzed bolt not so elegantly

Entered the kingdom unannounced you see


But, it mattered not the entrance so gained

A fine crystal glass and a taste of chaimpaign

Awaited me where my placecard sat

“We’ve been waiting for you,” and so

That was that…



My 13th Query… Hopefully getting better all the time




Dear Literary Agent,

It is a tremendous pleasure to send my query to you because after studying many agents, the search narrows.

My novel is a genre between supernatural, paranormal, spiritual and magical realism. There are few books to compare with this novel, perhaps the closest is A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness.

Imagine a place called Glory Town, with white picket fences, one white steeple, old Victorian homes and a community of rigid legalistic believers who inflict hell on outsiders. Think of a woman, once blonde, and once a fair-headed child, who later becomes addicted to brandy, red wine and sexual encounters with a succubus, and demons. Her appearance becomes edgy, like a gothic spinster.

Cat Dubois, odyssey begins by losing her brother to a large wave that she has no memory of.  He, Thomas, is an apparition that tries to protect her while she grows up in the manor home on the side of a ridge in The Appalachians. Thomas does his best to defend her from the demons and devils, so named Self-Loathing, Rejection, Pride and more. The dark forces seduce his little sister by night. They often taunt timid Thomas.

Cat is orphaned around twenty and inherits the manor on the hillside. She lost her soul mate as he was cast out of Glory Town because of his sexual orientation. Cat is terrorized by the darling brats and snotty bitches from Glory Town. They burn down her barn, they gossip about her and they label her “a witch.”

However, Cat is often visited by amicable spiritual beings who foreshadow a dynamic visitation from spirit guides: Eleanor, Tadhg and “Lovey” the black dog. The story uses mugwort, lavender, and other herbs to increase dreams and to heal. The story also uses hypnosis. The reader will actually experience the hypnotic session as Eleanor leads Cat into a trance to remember the circumstances surrounding Thomas’ death. At the end of the story, the final battle occurs for Cat’s sanity. Her freedom from the devils is directed by Eleanor. The demon’s fight to stay in the manor and never leave Cat, their home. But Spring does come for Cat. She’s forty-five when she is freed. As Eleanor, Tag and Lovey leave her in the closing scene, Cat awakens having no memories of a war or demons, devils or benevolent guides. She does have odd recollections and memorabilia. Furthermore, mysteriously, a map is delivered to Cat by a delivery man, who is really Tadhg. The map leads her to Lovey. Lovey chooses to remain on Earth with Cat. The last chapter is a celebration of life, Spring and in book two, Tadhg arcs time to reunite her with her soulmate, Daniel.

My target audience, per Beta-readers claims, is written for women. It is roughly 140,000 words.

Bonnie Jennings is a mother of two, has one grandchild, has six pets, and lives in The Piney Woods of Texas. Her qualifications for writing a psychological paranormal novel are personal experiences as she has been present during exorcisms conducted by a Catholic priest and others. Bonnie has had profound supernatural experiences and has captured some of these on photographs. She is presently a psychiatric nurse of eighteen years, as well as, having in the past, traveled the world as a flight attendant. She has written short stories, poetry, and one other novel. Bonnie just won an award from Poetry in Motion that resembles an Oscar. At one time she attempted writing political commentaries and one was aired on PBS’s ‘Soap Box’ in South Florida.

Thank you for reading this query.

I am at your whim,

Bonnie Jennings (BoJenn)

Find Bonnie at FB, Twitter, and WordPress:






Trying To Find Home (read by Tulika and Alan)

~Thank you both Alan Johnson and Tulika Dugar. Much love to you both




“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 severs the silk, so tight.

And, falling from the web of fright.


Still arms tangled by silk threads

Pushing out; bracing the fall

The spider and the fairy brawl

wham, bam, to and fro,

from the deathly fight, they bow

Looking, whom’s, my fairy friend?

Noticing it must be Joe.


Underneath the spider Joe waves thumbs up, You’re alright!

Now run like hell! To the light!

Run away little bait! For, the fate of the firefly might be too late…

by Bonnie Jennings ©1/12/2010FS


Second version~ Both, I love



The Changing

The tunnels brush border where mortals grow
The virtue and order of Brussels subtle are
Lavishing shabby living deep in the furrows
Fairies and goblins galore who sing and whale
All so deep down in the levies whimsy dale
And children run through the tree tunnel
Trying to reach the end but rumor has it
Somewhere in the middle or amongst light
Children deepen and become converted
Hair begins to grow oh so much longer
Fingernails sharpen and adding length
Toenails yellow from muddy wet dirt
Switching from boys to men and then
Sometimes switching from boys to women
Fairies come and dust shiny fairy dust
Faces once plump become downright fat
And bodies all girlie become hairy and old
Boys at the end have an odd bulbous nose
Reshaping orientation and finding away
Never thought modifications tweak us
But anything is possible in the tunnel of brush
Leaving the tunnel the pretty are rough
Leaving the tunnel oh so ugly are pretty
The fairies giggle at their high fashion designs
A long runway showing off the humankind




“Chechnya is rounding up gay people and taking them to torture camps”



“Chechnya is rounding up gay people and taking them to torture camps, and it’s as horrific as it sounds. Men are being electrocuted, tortured until they reveal names of other gay people, and beaten so badly that some have died. “

Tadhg Poetry




Clashing banging rumbling from skies

Flashes of lights evoke my wary eyes

The window shades slam and bam

Awakening ethereal dreams slam

And there in the shadows of dark

You stand. A strange odd quark

I’v come to trust your stark visits

It doesn’t matter, my setting limits

Entering in you seem inauspicious

However; discovered meretricious

And your eyes mystically dreamy

When you speak your words steamy

You call me using your finger folly

Pointing for me to come and follow

And that I do oh angel Santiago

A desperado fallen from Pablo

Up the stairs into the dusty attic

Handing me pictures and relics

Showing me my life so all alone

What I’ve missed and what treasured

And everything sought ill gathered

I swallowed my ego under my tail

And old Picasso fell of the wall’s nail

Cobwebs hung off The Temple of Apollo

He wiped them away and hung it so

Daringly wiping away the thick soot

Never shaming, but showed the dirt

Then sitting at the table ate avocados

He never said a word, he never had to

Loud bravado is not his demeanor

Just a quiet gentlemen who loves me


And when morning comes and I awaken

Wiping my eyes and capture fleeting images

I smile and wonder who he is

Stretching loving life getting out of bed

All day long, I wonder will I see you soon

I’LL pray for lightning and shadows

All of it

But on a Saturday night






Catherine saw him on the street

Thought to herself, he’s familiar

Starring she wasn’t able to stop

Rude as she was, she knew~

I know him

He watched as well at her wondering

Their eyes met, she looked away, chilled

Thought he could he the one who visits

Standing in the shadows

She knew, she knew him

She turns quickly up the alley

Only to find him at the end waiting

Their eyes meet and she felt naked

There was a star floating from him

It dissipated

“What do you want? Why do you follow?

He said nothing. He only held out his hand

His eyes told her a curious story

She read intuitively and then followed

He turned her around to face him

Gave her a locket

With that he turned away silently

Into the street and upon the trolley

Catherine witnessed his every step

Before opening the locket she followed

Running down the iron rails

“Come back!” She yells.

Opening the locket is her young picture

On the other side a boy who looked like her

In wonder and pondering the meaning

Looked back towards that train

Standing in the cabooses window

The gentleman waving goodbye

“Perhaps tomorrow?”



The Lovely Cat Dubois

My Poetry April 2017


To exist in an attitude of utter tranquility

Must establish contentment while here

Adopt and create quiet amazing gentility

Relishing in the Earth’s treasures endear

Basking in sunlit warmth ethereal Sophia

Laughing midst troubles and cacophony

She is a goddess

That birds should nest in her hands




If you only knew

I am beautiful yes, indeed

A bit disheveled, yes

Perhaps you think, “a mess.”

I’ve seen darkness, true

Think not, I a fool

Young I am, tis right

The war to survive, my plight

And everyday the sun shines

And every night, i lay bound

But, night always goes

And I will escape its woes

Freedom from death and fears I’ve known

But Hell won’t keep me here, oh no

I am strong

I will beat the night

This I know

I will never whine

I don’t have too

I love me

And thats all that counts





Opaline naked luminance amidst amber florals

Sweet orange tendrils and curls hanging lovely

Are you lost my dear among the lusty maples

Au natural barefooted exposed skin red snarls

Madness perhaps psychosis overwhelmed you

Been damned and unsaved fair headed damsel

Bewildered or bewitched, they’ll judge you, ey

Come in to cover your genital suggestiveness

A Scarlett Letter will be placed upon your chest

Come out of the fields of bondage your highness





Stories From The Attic (On FB)



Enter into the stories from the attic

Never mind the cobwebs and spiders

Enchanting tales resurrected from books

Fables and wizards and anecdotes with spice

Ghostly chills and breaths exhaled seeing dew

Sparkles of magic when she opens the novel

Eyes that twinkle as if she were a fairy

Setting the stage using mystical lyrics

A voice whimsically whispering charms

Tulika Dugar mysteriously sends us afar

To lands and places we’ve not traveled

Only to enter through the door of a chapter

The mistress invites you to snuggle enraptured

Now, wrap a blanket about you among the scattered

It’s now story time up in the attic.


Tantric Answers



Tantric Answers

Adelaide goes to the fields when lamentable

Melancholic considering all her options

Bemoaning speculating her dilemma

To escape or stay plotting her agenda

The fields glistening in amber lights

Generates truths and mystical responses

Within the field of Elysium are answers

Prudently she must hear the solutions

Is it this or perhaps that way she replies

Discerning the path she must recognize

And the fields of gold whisper the knowledge

She must listen, and she must know well

There is but away that leads her from hell

An Adelaide, she knows, all to well

The wrong decipher continues perdition

“Listen, listen,” she tells herself so transcendental

Unhurried and reverent to the wind in the willows

Collectively deciding to begin a transition

As the breeze told her so

Adelaide knows her answer



Angel Orion



Angel Orion upon the waters he thwarts

The innocent drowning in seas of assaults

By mighty waring arrows burning with force

Provisions and bounties granting us serenity

Rests comfort~ given a heavenly clemency

Over dark waters, storms and crazed insanity

Mankind will smile once again using charity

A necessity thus calming any raging sea

Orion exterminates the maleficent enemies

Respectfully replacing any unpleasantries

All irreverent thoughts from animal kingdom

Leaving behind humans of divine affinities

Removing peasantry and ape philosophies

Only left are amenities and just fidelity

BJ ©4/2017


Image from A Poet’s Haven stock

Poetry Readings by Alan Johnson and Tulika Dugar


Simply follow the link…

The amazing spoken word and music by Alan, and Tulika.


Amazing site… I promise that you won’t be disappointed.









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


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

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

So without further delay…






🏆 🥇 First Place Gold Winner Is …


All I Have to Give

By DL Mullan

I listen to the whispers of the wind

in hopes to catch the sound of you

my sorrow is all I have to give

because there is nothing I can do

I am not complete; I am not whole

what I would ask is for solace

to lighten the load of my soul

but I find no peace in this silence

I am breaking now into pieces

a fallen jig saw puzzle reordered into chaos

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

a memory that will comfort me

All I have to give seems insufficient

to the weight of my terrible grief

maybe if your voice guided my hand

I could put myself back together again








 🜛🥈 Silver Place Winner


~~~ ABOUT MY MUM ~~~

By, Charlotte Rains

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




There is a tie for The Bronze place.

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




 And The 𐂚 🥉Bronze Place medal goes to…

TWO POETS and they are…

Drum roll please…. !


𐂚 🥉

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

And the second Bronze Winner is ….. 



𐂚 🥉


by Gina Hirsch


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

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

The day comes beckoning underneath  an angry sky. 

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

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

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

A rushing rapture of love.

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

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

But the day took over the night.

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

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

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






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




Morning Jennie,
By Dwayne Leon Rankin

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

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

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





 The Loch of Lomond

By Vernon Woods


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



Also highly mentioned… 

Thank you Linda 💐



By Linda Long

“You’re killing me….”

Words I hung in the air,

a prophecy that resonates through sleepless nights

My heart said goodbye to itself

that chilling evening in early August

How sacred the secret treasure of a wife and mother,

how broken the memories,

how haunting the path not taken



The next poem is by my dear friend Karen Boorman

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


Thank you Karen this reads like Robert Frost 🌺




By Soul Gifts on WordPress ❤️

She moved.

She swayed in time to the cadence

and beat of the rhythms

drumming in her heart.

Innocence was hers.

As was beauty.

Timeless, eternal, infinite.

None dared question.

Absorbed as she was, she noticed nothing

but the internal symphony,

the music  that swayed

and moved her eternally.

The swell, the growth, the burgeoning,

bursting and erupting explosions convulsed

shook and shattered the firmaments asunder.

In her splendour she bathed

in the newness of birth.

A new day.

A new dawn.

A new beginning.

She smiled.

It was wondrous.


Thank you Soul Gifts 🌹 



Thank you Soulece

By Soulece 💜

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


Thank you Jason…


Keep At It

By: Jason A. Watson 

Throughout life people experience both pain and suffering

Though getting through these things are pretty complicated

First you must learn to love and believe in yourself

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

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

There still is hope for things to get better

Things are closer than they seem to appear

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

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

There is no reason to surrender


I loved this one Jason….❤️




Thank you, Jony 


With love,


By Jony Francissen 



Today you are silent

with harsh unspoken words.

Your skin looks raw

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

Dust piled up on hope.

You promised me the sky

and turned it into a ceiling.



Thank you, Susan… Oh how I relate! 



By Susan Burns 

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

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

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

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

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




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




By Cris Fox (also a dear old friend🌹)


When the Wind begins to call you,

You will hear his voice and follow.

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

Friendship is the bread of angels,

Gifts of life meant to remind you

Which way to go, His love makes you whole.

The Father is calling, 

He’ll kept you from falling

Creation rejoices today.

The song He is singing

New life His bringing

Whispering Jesus the way

Home to His heart of love.

When the Wind begins to call you,

You will hear His voice and follow.

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

Friendship is the bread of angels

Gifts of life meant to remind you

Which way to go, His love makes you whole.

This message descending

Of love never ending,

A river of Life from the Throne.

Grace that is waking,

You’ll Bend without breaking

With Jesus you’re never alone.

Enter His heart of love.

Beautiful Cris 🌹


By Anne Stockstill


Thinking of Me?

When you touched my hand

And your lips caressed mine,

Were you thinking of me?

When you danced holding me close,

Your breathe on my cheek

Whispering sweet nothings,

Were you thinking of me?

When the lights were low,

Soft, romantic music playing

As you lay close to me,

Where you thinking of me?

When we talked about travel

And made future plans,

Where you thinking of me?

When foreign shores beckoned you,

French wine, fine cuisine served on a terrace,

Overlooking the Eifel Tower and sparkling lights of Paris,

Were you thinking of her?

When you traveled to Rome, Istanbul and St Petersburg,

Changing the look of your face,

Drinking Russian vodka, long white nights,

Were you thinking of her?

Laying on white Dominican beaches,

Playing in the foaming surf,

Where your phone service never worked,

Were you thinking of her?

Did you look into her eyes and repeat unholy vows,

To love and cherish until death,

When the church bells tolled,

Did you really believe the lies you told,

As you married her while you were married to me?

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




  💛 And MOST Mentioned 💛

However ~ it is over 22 lines…. 



By @alostwriter

I am something much more

Than what you have in your mind

I am much more than a body

I am much more than a kiss

I am something much more than the breast and

all the rest

I have a heart ,

A mind,

A soul,

I am not just this body

These lips,

These curves,

I am much more than these

You keep rolling your eyes

Up and down

Seeking to get into

Inch by inch

Into my skin

Making me feel naked even

I have dozen of clothe on my body

still naked i m

I am something much more

Than this

I don’t need you

Your appreciation

You are also one of them

I am much more than

What you think,

Much more than

You can ever imagine

your thinking is limited to this

and I am something beyond this

I am something much more.


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

Thank you   ✍🏻





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


There In My Woods



There in my woods stood a wondrous sight
Were my eyes deceiving me, I asked quietly
In awe, I approached slowly, and reverently
She stood as a statue amidst the winter wood
The haze of midday and the humidity blinded
Any clear sights watching this solemn angel
Vaguely interpreted all hidden truthful sights
And why was she there, I can’t answer that
I wanted to believe that she was only for me
But, I don’t know, she never glanced, you see
I stayed as long as I could silently stoop
Trying not to breath loudly as to disturb 
After hours of gazing, i fell fast asleep 
Upon awakening, the angel had departed

Castanets and Patchouli

Image From Pinterest
Image From Pinterest

Hidden between glances

Silencing a cacophony of doubts

Entering a place reverently

Peaceful and in tune with the beat

Vibrational magnets conjoin

Even across a room

Finding the mellow one

Untroubled and appreciative of much

Harmonious strings are magical

Baroque gypsies fancy bravato

A passacaglia minuet to begin

A teething rose and Bolero

Tapping toes and castanets

Candles and torches blazing

A fugue in D Minor and such

Moonlight sonatas and patchouli 

An image of Zeta watches 

And there’s Tadhg whom I adore

The Samba and Bossa Nova

The night takes an exotic twist

Fantastic is the swirling passion

The drum beats stirring lust

Sweltering rhythms and riffs

Take me away  to a distant place

And there is Zeta watching me

The night dissolves then

And I return home

Zeta I can’t resist


And the late Jose Feliciano on Youtube

My favorite guitarist

Such a gypsy

I still love you the best…..🌹

We Were Children Once Upon A Time







Imaginations of a girl

Dragons, bubbles and blonde curls

Creating a magical place

All her own

Her angel watches waiting

Motivating the child’s talents sown



In bubbles and butterflies and green moss

The smell of dirt’s mushrooming gorse

The dragon suddenly comes alive

The wave of her finger

Her angel smiles

Gifting the child’s natural endowments



A seer, a writer, a fairy princess

Must always keep her reason for existence

Sadly time and reality erase her magic

Once and artist

Her angel idly waits

Queuing patiently the child’s imaginations




©2017 BJ







the feast-of-bacchus-Gerard-de-Lairesse-painting



Laws that govern the protection of hospitals

Penal codes that govern the laws of (USA) men

And what about the laws that govern the truth

There’s a tide that is honest and leads when

Laws protecting this and that fail written by a pen

Having to step out of the Torahs way, every now and then

Deciding a destiny, costing more than gold, one aspires

A judgement of convictions, rising above sentencing

The choices sitting before you are costly fires

Codes of ethics, standards of practice, oh the law tires

Hurting and hindering more than protecting innocent life

Having to make verdicts and to be the judge

Stepping off-limits defining integrity relevant per

The voice within though pushed won’t fudge

And the jury that can’t hear, ultimately will misjudge

But HIPAA won, the penal code vanished

And the man slit the throat of his dogs

The neighbors children are next

It doesn’t matter for the HIPAA Law gods

Silence fell because the determinate kills dialogues



©2016 BJ