The feathered white pheasant’s tail was broken yet she flew anyway
And on the horizon swooping low was the mouth of the dragon
Yelling and pointing, “Go South!” Pleasant friend rigorously showing the way
Yet smoother than vanilla ice cream drifted the angel fairies just enjoying the day
All is well by the looks of the spectacular blue skies! What humans think 🤔
And the people in the clouds roll their eyes in utter quandary at thoughts of beings
A sigh is heard from the leader. Pausing breathes and pulses from the cloud kingdom
Just waiting for the Moon 🌚 and not being seen to loudly or heard silently, but dreaming realities of Tolkien an TS Eliot
Can’t wait to show Jacob about this world above our heads and inside our hearts that leaves one day when we become mankind.
Weaving awkward words unbelievably infiltrated by a source
Who has bent reasonable human consciousness and time
Organizing underneath hidden conversations of the elite
Dictating to mankind frightening beliefs of death and scheol
Creating fear and hatred, and intolerance by falsifying lies
Freedoms eliminated; intelligence dissipated; imaginations empty
Colliding human beings, bending core character, remains nothingness
Grievances uninhabitable; the loneliness of the angelic godhead sits
Found are words that bend ears into manifestation matrix ideologies
Their pat verbiage we’ve acutely hypnotized and weaved like experts
Awaken to your own thoughts that were given to you so graciously
To hold them as yours and shan’t ever change a thing eternally
Your being is your gift; do not give it away; as you’re not a whore
Now stay where you’re at. Don’t move and eat only the finest fruit
Stay far from repeating their verbiage that binds you eternally
Speak you, and only you, and do it in love, for the Matrix will vaporize
Do not judge the fallen, but turn from that universe, and offer your hands
It’s not a place for survival. No.
The terrain is rugged and the waves are ferocious.
Learning to swim is mandatory for survival.
However the atmosphere is compelling me to open my wings and fly from the verbiage and voices of earth.
I must accomplish this
One task at a time
BoJenn @December 13, 2018
‘With a radiant warm smile the woman said, “Finally we get to meet. I am Eleanor, Ms. Catherine Dubois. Oh for five-hundred-years, I’ve waited for this moment.”‘
How Eleanor came to visit me one stormy night is a story that succeeded another story of mystery and intrigue. The story thus became Cat Dubois’ Odyssey to Enchantment.
It was early fall and the first chill came that evening as the sheets of rain fell. Cat starred out the back windows simply mesmerized by the shears of wind and rain. She was cold, lonely and worried. The dreaded fears of the future somehow aligned itself with the deluge of water and her life appeared like the rain that ran off into the creek. Her tears could fill that stream that sat next to the eery woods behind her home. She prayed all the prayers that anyone could. Her Hope dimmed like the candles that burned next to her. And then, the electricity turned off. A transformer must have been hit. She threw a log into the fireplace and poured another glass of Cabernet.
Ka-Boom! The bolts were over her home. Flashes of lights were all around. The electric sky put on a show. A limb snapped in the woods. Wrapping a blanket around herself, she watched outside. She took another sip of the red warming wine. As she started to turn away, something caught her attention. Something unusual was going on back there.
“What’s that?” Cat whispered. There were swirling leaves and lights in the middle of her focus. “What the hell?” She intently stared now. The stirring of wind, leaves and sparks twenty feet from where she stood, caused her to stand back. She came forward and looked again.
“There is a woman,” Cat gasped.
Eleanor’s feet touched the ground in the middle of the puddles. Kaboom’s popped. Her hand grasped an umbrella. The woman didn’t seem a bit concerned about the conditions. She simply walked above the water towards the back porch.
There she shook the umbrella out, then sat it by the back door as it opened mysteriously, and said, “Put some tea on dear. We have work to do.”
Cat’s mouth dropped open, she said, Okay. She couldn’t decide if this event was good or evil; although, the woman was eccentric and that character trait, Cat felt compelled to entertain. She was a bit wary of an English woman. Strangely, She didn’t ring the front doorbell, nor knock like regular people do. She just appeared. Oh Lord, I’ve lost my mind.
The plump woman said to Cat in an old English brogue while standing at the backdoor, “Dear, if you’re going to fight devils, you will need help. Supernatural help. Never fight them alone.” She straightened out her clothes, walked inside and looked for the couch. On it, she plopped. “Get your pen and pad of paper. You’re going to write a story and I’m going to help you.”
Cat having few words ~ said, “All right. I will get them and the tea. What type of tea do you prefer?”
“My own,” and from her tote The woman brought out her stash of herbal delights. “Here smell this one. Get a cup for yourself, as well dear.”
Okay. After all, how do you say no to a delusion that manifested? And so, Cat sat two teacups down on the coffee table. She looked at the woman and paused before speaking, then said, “By the way, my name is Cat. Cat Dubois. What’s yours?”
With a radiant warm smile the woman said, “Finally we get to meet. I am Eleanor, Ms. Catherine Dubois. Oh for five-hundred-years, I’ve waited for this moment.”
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…..🌹
Gathering with Barbiel ~
And she was venturing in the forest
Going to fetch the fungi and moss
The girl searched the strathy floor
In the mystic Highlands of Scotland
Alone searching, seeking for notions
Prayerfully seeking wise advise
And there she sought wise Barbiel
The Angel of October, and asked ~
Where do the toadstools grow here
Amid the dankness of the leaves?
It is in October they prosper trees
Barbiel took his dousing rod to lead
Come this way girl, don’t meander
I’ll teach you of autumn’s alchemy
And some other things, he spoke
He pointed to the medicinal fungi
Found under the wet decayed log
He held up an yellow October leaf
Saying, just wait until it turns orange
And on their path of only mystics
Who wander into a dark forest
Finding Fagus BeechTree standing alone
He cracked the triangular nut offering
She ate the sweet fruits he gave her
Filling her basket with the kernels
They slowly continued onward
Old Barbiel taught as they passed
And she spent the day learning
From the tall burly angel telling
When will I see you again?
“I’m afraid, not until next October.”
I’ll be here on the first next year!
And saying goodbyes ~ He departed.
©2016 Bonnie Jennings. All Rights reserved
I want to thank the wonderful artist who donate their work so that poets may write to their images. Thank you PIXABAY artists.
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;
thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
“The fetus and/or discarded tissue” is the way, they refer to the child, I never knew.
A fight to protect a grown woman right’s is predominate over the right’s of you.
Big business, clear throat, the governments claims are like talons
They use the media to promote their “caring valors.”
While, in fact, my babies tissue it seems
Was used in cosmetics and that was beyond my wildest dreams
“We’re just experimenting for the good of mankind,”
Their lame excuses sicken me, I suppose, they knew, I was blind.
To the fact that my babies tissues brought monetary and scientific foresight
Is beyond this humans understanding and is societies plight
For what will we be when it comes to mankind?
Throw away babies for the sake of the dying?
Are we so greedy and grab at our demising time left
That we forfeit the right’s of the young, through theft?
There’s no more to say at this moment
Except my heart has broken each Christmas morning
Missing two faces, whose hands are gone
Into someone’s hair treatment and a bottle of pretentious Perignon
***There is no picture that I found suitable so one was chosen at random.
Earning the wings that I wear,
Dutiful battles and wars not disbarring,
The sight of suffering and smell of stench,
The roads we’ve traveled often forgotten,
The hunger for home, not resenting,
The survival fought for mankind,
My wings though grey with dirt,
The fight has passed my thirst,
But we continue forward,
As soldiers do,
Commanded by the Lord,
Until we’re through.
Don’t think you shall slip from me,
My mind won’t permit
The waters try to separate us,
From the sweat and the dust of Earth,
But I won’t let them take you away,
Though the clock hands unwind to suggest so,
BUT, I SHALL STOP THEM, from taking you,
My night dreams and visions will carry us through,
Until I enter the door of everlasting bliss ~
And perhaps leave you here,
Half forgotten, “Oh, my dear.”
I’ll let you go if I must
So, here’s to your peace
In me you can forever trust.
Farewell, my love, goodbye.
My Little Jo Jo
March 2009-July 20, 2015
Closing eyes shut I see green pasturesSee you run freely
There in the flowers you jump so high
Barking ~ Like laughter
To see you smile
Cherished fond memories
Moments of ~
Off and on, fleeting visions
Running close to me
Reaching out to touch you
Then disappearing from my dreams
Only left with an image
You standing on a hill
Telling me ~
I’ll see you soon
Selfishly you are missed
I hold you here
Confusion about living
Dying and the hands unwind
You whisper to tell me
If you listen you’ll hear me
Just call on me
If you need me then call me
I’m not far from you
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…
(I realize this wasn’t written very well, but I wrote it when I was so sad about my Jo, so I’m keeping it as it is. Maybe oneway, I will clean it up, but for now, it stays like this. Perhaps, i will trash it just because))
And this is my little dog, JoJo and he is sick.
Today is Saturday 4/11/15.
After working a 12 hour night and having a 1 hour and 30 mins commute to get to him,
I returned home to a very sick doggy child.
Knowing that you had to be by yourself during this time,
Saddens me, but I’m here now.
Those of us who love our pets know their suffering hurts tremendously.
An empty void grows in our hearts.
Tears come and they will surely go,
And, glimpses of their childhood memories cause us guttural sobbing.
Letting go is the least selfish act I can do.
I know I must help you to fly.
And I give you permission though I will miss you.
Why do these furry friends make us so happy?
At times we ignore them and push them away.
But, they never leave our sides.
Perhaps that is why they’re named dogs.
If turned backwards spells God.
Your whiskers are so scruffy.
You smell a little too.
But, you’re worth all the world to me.
Even though, you once chewed my shoes.
A shaggy puppy are you.
And human love, can’t be compared.
You’re the best friend, of all my friends,
cause you are always, so willing
to be there ~
Even when I’m blue.
You never make it about yourself.
No, you turn everything back to me.
And, you lick my feet when they’re stinky.
You lick my sour breath too.
And how many friends that are human,
Would dare do the same little kind acts as you?
So, face towards the son my friend.
Where you feel the pleasant gentle breeze,
And the sons-light is eternal
And wait for me there, please.
Receive me when I come home.
It’s just the threshold that we must pass through,
It’s merely the dying and shedding of Earth’s body
That is tough and just like we knew.
But, on the other side ~
Wait for me, because I will come.
One day, we shall meet again.
That day, I finally arrive home.
And, as the song goes: It will be on a distant shore.
There, in the sweet by in by,
In heaven, we will meet once more.
Even though now, we regretfully sigh.
Before taking the last breath
Lets hug and kiss if you can
But, I’ll not disturb your transition
Because you are my friend.
My heart holds your soul and takes it within.
And, my hands set your spirit free.
Because true love is utter kindness
And, allows The Father’s hands to take you from me.
Jo Jo as His Glove in Elizabeth Catherine Dubois
(My second novel, but this is not about me. It’s about you, JoJo)
I nursed an elderly women,
who truly… nursed me.
Her eyes shown love
and, oh so blue,
as, a Heavenly sea.
Her frail body, and a failing heart, though, declared Earthly weak,
This heart shall not be stopped.So…
Shout it out to hell!
And may it be well known!
This frail little lady is a warrior, a soldier, and a saint…
And I’m certain the devil heavily moans.
So, tending to her physical needs
she, really, attended me.
Her vital signs taken
and comfort was met.
Then…unfortunate for me…
I stood to say goodbye, “Sweet one,”
The time has come to leave.
But, before departing, whispered,”May I hold you child
and bless you as you have done to me?”
Then a tear shared between,
And hating going from her
but the day moving forward and simply…
There are others I had to see
However, knowing…God touched my soul
on a busy day
even a day at work
A reminder; magnificent! And only I knew so …
That, an elderly women so frail
but, ever so strong in her soul
gave a gift of love, of our savior
and advice to “always be strong.”
And, her prayer for me greater
then my job which had to be done
So…Slowly driving away…I knew, …
My God had touched me greatly today
And perhaps, the elderly women
was the gift of His love and ye
Be delivered by an angel
A message For me!
To…”always be strong…and always pray”
For angels come as elderly women
even on an average day
Love God to Bonnie Jennings 11/29/2011
My mother had just passed forward May 2011
Thoughts about Babe
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