Courageous Captain

My destiny sits before me

And I am a fearful captain

The skies call loudly “this way!”

I hide in the room provided

The ships keep coming back

They are insisting on government

“Here. This is yours, captain.

Take charge before it’s too late.”

Courage is needed

I call upon the name, Courageous

“Come, now! I am ready! To take

My flight.”

BoJenn 7.8.2018

Passages: Time is a Thief 🌹

William Wordsworth, 1770 – 1850 (an excerpt)

“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind.”

Reflections on Family

 

My Family/families are my Valentines. ❤️

 

 

Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood

William Wordsworth1770 – 1850 (an excerpt)

 

“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind.”

 

 

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Time is a Thief

 
 
 

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Fleeting ~ Time

Left are memories of the children voices
 Left are the visions of sand castles

Time is a thief ~ so subtly it steals
 The moments thought unimportant and harried

If only for a moment ~ my mother and father
 We could gather at the playground together

Instead of doing my own thing
 Would look only at you and carefully listen

Because truly ~ Time is a thief

BJ

 

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Hidden from sight the old trees still protect
 As if intruders enter out of disrespect 
 Inside the castle tucked deeply far away
 Is a beating heart who yearns for their play
 When they visit again and all will be restored
 To the time and place where the children roared
 The dogs barked when visitors approached
 And all was well, once upon a day
BJ

 

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The laughter of voices of children are still heard
 Looking at the image seeing what once was
 And nothing will bring back the innocent days
 Moving time forward, can never return



And the cycle of voices of children presently heard
  Are the ones who'll whisper in future playgrounds
  And the cycle goes on and on and on perpetually turning

Making the maddening cycle stop
  Takes fortitude, strength, courage and truth
  That the voices of children stay presently in your heart

BJ

 

 

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 Her Mysteries

 
 

Ascending an abandoned staircase stood once gloried and adored

 Still remains inside a crumbling castle’s walls ~ yet still lovely
She held secrets no one had explored, she waited to share
The mysteries, now ghosts, of people who once were
Back, caught in time, and the twirling vacuum of memories

Went ~ Swept away. But the antique staircase could bring them back ~

If only a wandering visitor came to stay.

 
 
 
BJ
 
 
 
 
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“Please, whisper. As you enter a sacred place, be reverent. It is the granite that shields her heart, and the only way to enter is in quiet solitude.”







Thank you for reading

 

 

 

K♣️

©2016 Bonnie Jennings. All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

Poetess Synda Payne Burton: Recognizing Synda’s Artistry

Good morning!

Today, I want to introduce to you a fellow poetess by the name of Synda Payne Burton. It was on a FB poetry writing group A Poet’s Haven that I became familiar with Synda and her poetry. We kind of played the poetry game of writing off each other a couple of times. 

Synda, I must tell you and others this little tidbit, and I didn’t know this until I read your bio, that you are a registered nurse and so am I. Perhaps that is our connection? Synda is a tender, intuitive poetic writer. 

So, now I give to all of you, Synda…. Thank you for allowing me the pleasure of having you as my guest this morning. 

 

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Synda
 
 

Hi! My name is Synda (pronounced Sin-duh…not a nick name) Payne Burton..

How does one introduce themselves, in a paragraph…I have in the past, as a child writing a letter in a classroom, but that was only to become someone’s pen pal. I have thence become an adult and have written resumes for job opportunities. In short, I am a retired registered nurse/certified nurse midwife. I have been married for 44 years. I have three grown daughters and 8 grandchildren. I have live in Fishers, Indiana  for the past 14 years. My husband and I are originally from Kansas, where we worked most of our adult life. 

 

 
 

While I was going to school and even into my adult life…poetry or writing it, was never my thing…I loved other forms of creative art. Perhaps it was because I really never understood it. We read poetry in literature class and often I wondered what the poet was saying…I now, believe I know. I started writing poetry or little jingles for my morning posts on Facebook in 2009…it was what I called passing time while I drank my coffee and waited for my granddaughter to arrive. It eventually grew into verses of ABAB poetry. My inspiration at times comes from photos…what I see and feel…or if something strikes a nerve…a word…an incident. Many of my photos come from a dear friend that is a photographer, her name is Ruby Karmann. Poetry, now has become a morning routine…I drink my coffee…listen to the morning news and write at least one…sometimes as many as three poems. Then, there are days, I don’t write anything. And that is how I came to write….

 
 


 
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Photograph by Ruby Karnann

Synda’s Poem:

Just…

One…picture can paint a thousand words…
But words describe… what one cannot see…
Which at times are not captured…left unheard…
Untold…to those that are blind or are absentee…

A…photo at times does not captivate…feelings…
Those innermost thoughts that are within one’s mind…
Nor can a writer describe your physical image, in being…
One has to see a person…to be well defined…

A snapshot can only grasp a mere moment…in time…
To enamor…or accomplish what was intended to enchant…
As a second or two later may be too late in the next frame…to chime,
That perfect pitch…tone in color…to clinch the beauty for it to chant…

While a picture can paint a thousand words for a writer to write…one has to be there to get the total picture…to witness the true beauty that is often just visualized only in a painting…

~Synda Payne Burton

With Ruby Tuesday Creations/Photography

 ©2016 Synda Payne Burton. All Rights Reserved. 

 


 

 

I hope you have enjoyed reading Synda’s bio, her poetry, and have experienced her artistry, as well. To find Synda on FB you might visit her at Alan Boles’ poetry page called: A Poet’s Haven

@  https://www.facebook.com/groups/313544755508623/



Thank you Synda for sharing with us, yourself. 

 

 

Thank all of you for visiting this blog today and may you create poetry or art or whatever your creative outlet is today and forever…Happy blogging! 

My Soulmate is a Pilgrim,

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My soulmate is a pilgrim, 
He explores the zodiac’s constellations
Not always in our own Milky Way, he treks
His journeys enlighten mankind
Because he aims his bow hunting faith in Sagittarius
And swims with emotional artestry in Pisces
He judges mankind with Libran scales
As he admires beauty while visitingTaurus
By Capricorn he calculates the distances to travel
With Gemini he knows about all the heavens
In Aquarius he will always be courageous and cool
While adventuring The Scorpio Moon, my soulmate tells no secrets
Because he is a man of Aries who has great self worth
His mother The Virgin he humbly thanks
The Cancer crab brings him home again
He enters Earth as Leo the lion
That  time occured when Regulus in retrograde circled Jupiter
Then, Jupiter conjoined Venus
Making it event the brightest lights in all heaven
So the Maggi would find the divine child
My soulmate is that deity
He rides on the tail of the comets.
One day he will come again
He promised
And he, my friend, does not lie.

© #Bojenn 2015 All Rights Reserved