Deception Amongst The Garden



Sweetness and flattery 

Oh, my, I am blushing

Your words sent my heart, excited and flushing

Heat of joy as your delicately chosen words

Has succumbed my ego, for a moment, oh dear.

And, I must admit, I am overcome with your praise

And what may I ask is your intentions, naive ?

Are you mocking me as you steal my songs;

Or are you incredibly disdainful, meandering along?

In life it is clear, you manipulate your foes

Choosing their best for yourself, but not their woes

Woes and foes brought me to this place and fate

And one can’t get around experience and disgrace

But, I’m flattered that you’d steal my poetry, my love

And, I’ll tip my hat to your theft, and bid you, good day…

And, thank you ~ As you’ve made my way ~

Better,  than I deserved… On any given Say (poetry)

On The Tarmac


IT was summer of 1976, The Bicentennial year of America (USA) that I walked the tarmac at Walker’s Key Bahamas with Janie’s Crazy Salt in my back pocket. Growing from the grass that lined the tarmac were wild tomatoes. Plucking a few and salting them, we gobbled the delightful little mattoe’s up. Oh, those were warm kind and innocent days, so it seems now.

My Father Emmett “Jim” Jennings


On Father’s Day, on Memorial Day, on Christmas Day and New Years Day, 

I remember you. A man who taught his seven-year old daughter how to read The Constellations and how to follow the stars through the telescope you gave me for Christmas. Since you were the navigator in WWII, you knew all about the heavens. But, why couldn’t you read a road map? Just kidding, you did very well, as you drove us on many vacations in our Impale on hot nights in the summer back in the 1950’s and sixties. Daddy insisted we travel at night. Always, I cringed every time the car hit an innocent animal while traveling at night. Hmm…I’m more of an empath now, but that’s another story about animals seen dead on our highways. Now, I’m phobic about traveling at night. LOL, not blaming you, nor making this about me, I’m just saying for every action there is an equal reaction. You taught very well, except algebra, though later, I did understand and did learn under the guidance of a concerned professor. She said, “Do you know that you reverse your bases and exponents? I want you to be tested for dyslexia.”

Back to your story, and, speaking of Christmas, thanks for The skyscraper toy with the working elevator, I loved putting my plastic farm animals in it to ride from the bottom floor all the way to the top fourth floor. I enjoyed it and wondered then why you gave it to me, but now, I know why. Thank you.

And, every football fall, the TV tuned into the real football seasons. When they played in freezing winter’s outside or in the hot scorching sun, that was real football.

You always took over our one TV, which by the way, was a color TV. The first one we owned. You built it. I’ll never forget what a Diode is, after you explained it to me many times. Then, you built a 25 inch television for my first wedding present. John 1950’s or 1960’s. You confided in me at around 7-9 years old, because you were visited by the government, “The Men in Black,” back in those days. You were afraid of “The Project Blue Book,” men, yet, you were not a paranoid man by nature. But, you told me because you thought a child  would not understand. You gave me a stone that was not from our Earth. I played with it for years. It is now gone and it has been gone since you died. I wish I could find the stone. It was the greatest treasure, I’ve ever received. Maybe one day, it will return to me…

I love you daddy. Even though, your departing Earth was a bitter moment for us, both, I understand your disappointments in me… You had more to teach me, and I wasn’t listening. I was too interested in other things, boys, family, children and god, and other distractions.You wanted me to be an engineer and I married instead, more than once.

You wanted to teach me beyond my wildest dreams. However, I want you to know daddy, I’m studying, listening, hearing all the things you thought that I, should know and, best of all, I understand. I’m doing it alone and I do wish you were here. By the way, I have practiced some algebra equations in your memory. “What in the Sam Hill is going on?”

You know, I feel you sometimes. I since your presence. So often, you lead me. After all, I asked you to help me with the dryer the other night, and you did…

Thank you. I know when I need something fixed, I can count on you, if I listen, I will hear your instructions…. So, I did just as you instructed me, I kick the front of any broken machine, except my Apple computer, real hard and cursed at it just the way you did. “That dad-burn, so n so…” And, sometimes, it works! Thanks!

I love you daddy. We will meet again and share a bottle of wine together… Can’t wait, I hope it’s not pink Ripple.

Until we meet again…. Love you.

Dream 4/3/13


This isn’t my picture, but if I knew who captured it’s powerful message I would give credit. I love this picture.
Calling it, Gaining Control, Again.

There was traffic
An intersection
A bridge above
Traffic at a light or moving slowly.
A child on a huge horse
Horse out of control
Running with child, an infant and another child on it’s back
The older child couldn’t control
I saw it going down
Very bad circumstance
I, and two other mothers jumped out of stopped cars to help stop the horse
One caught the reins the other two lifted the children off to safety
They were okay
So was the horse
Then, my parked car held up traffic
I got in and drove away after police arrived

This was the dream that awakened me.
Any thoughts?

A Thank You

My note of thanks to all who have “liked” my stuff. If I haven’t made a personal thank you on yiur page please forgive me as I’ve been working, sleeping and boondoggling, way too much.

So, thank you. Please visit more often AND write me a note to say howdy, you’ve come and gone and will return soon, I hope.

Thanks, bojenn


Do come again.

Please bring your goat, next time.

Spaguetting Along


The Queen of Spaguettes wrote Spagetti songs

All red slippery syllables so sweet

The scallions savory smells

Saute’d speeking scrumptious swirls

Sultry sounds sung with a beat

Spooning spegetti thickly it seems

Our mistakes of spelling and semi colons, not teamed

And The Queen of Spaguttes continued singing her psalms

in delusions of grandiur resulting all night long

Thinking how clever her rhymes beamed

until reviewers pointed her poerty unclean

So smiling she smiled The Queen of spagueetes bid goodbye

all in a year and a day…

For no spags visited or asked her to play.

Seems she gave that silly spaguette crown away…


The Red Ruby Slippers Dripped In Milk And Honey


Some wandered forty years
A tribe of nomads seeking, something unknown.

Wanting desperately the milk and honey
And finding the desert of dried bones.

Hot the sun it burned me
In the summers continuous

Sweltering thirst in this parched land
Thickened tongues will lap

The freshness of the cool waters
And napping in cool grass

Longing greatly for comforts
Seeking what I had not.

Then dreaming came a messenger
Speaking of the land in my heart

And wanting the land I longed for
Lived in the caves from the start.

And as simply as longing for water
Could just prey the designs as smart.

Then no longer wander the desert
But my shoes will follow my part.

Amazed, stand I, looking down
Seeing the sparkly red shoes

And The Land
flowing with Milk and Honey
Is here
Was there
Right at the end of my toes.