The Poet’s Train


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Sincerely, BG

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The Watcher


My eyes stay open through the watches of the night,

that I may meditate on your promises.

Psalm 119:148


The Watcher

The eyes aglow were watching

The forest in the night,

And sat atop a redwood

In shadowy moonlight.


This percher listened closely

For movement on the ground,

As North winds blew through swifty

Enhancing ev’ry sound.


The snapping of dry kindling

Sent creatures scurrying;

The watcher called out loudly

Atop the redwood tree,


“Hoo?  Who is in this forest?

Hoo?  Who has breached our realm?

Who dares disrupt our kingdom?”

Asked the Watcher from his helm.


A timid lamb stepped forward,

And bowed before the guard.

“I beg your pardon, Wise One,

This winter’s been so hard.


I’ve wandered from the Shepherd,

And lost my way back home.

I pray you give me mercy

For I am all alone.”


The sentry eyed the creature

Assessing friend or foe-

Then welcomed in the lost one

From winter’s blust’ry cold.


The lamb was all a shiver

Despite it’s wooly coat.

The Watcher motioned quickly,

“Please, bring the royal robe.”


The lamb was covered gently

In love and tender care.

“We are the Shepherd’s children;

You’re always welcome here.


The Shepherd is returning.

He told us to prepare-

To watch, and love with passion;

To guard His Word with care.”


The Watcher is the sentry,

Who warns that time is near.

“Safeguard your heart completely,

The Shepherd will appear.”


Take heed, my friend, please listen.

His promise still remains…

He’s coming for the Watchers

Who call upon His name.


B.G. Jenkins ©2017

Thinking of my friend, Debbie Williams on this one…

The idea came from her love of owls.


Sincerely, BG

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Mirrored Dimensions

Mirrored Dimensions

I looked into the mirrored glass
And saw myself in decades past.
This little lass I recognized,
The chubby cheeks, the same blue eyes.

The curls were loose on tresses thin;
No shoes to slow down where I went.
And then, the mirror smoky white
Displayed a scene, a star filled night-

When next appears another child,
I recognized her timid smile.
It was not I; she was my own
Sweet baby girl, in our old home.

A flounce of curls upon her crown,
With bows and lace upon her gown.
Her pinkie power- no surprise,
A princess in her daddy’s eyes.

An added mist upon the glass
Brought other scenes out of the past-
Our baby boy, our first grandchild
Our second, third… this mirror’s wild.

The dads, they loved all without fail;
I saw us silver haired and frail.
More mist emerged, and I saw clear
A family, with children near.

I did not know their names you see…
but somehow knew my legacy.
Resemblances of faces known;
Some features which stood out in stone.

This looking glass which I spied through
Brought forth the love with clear views, too.
Dimensions beyond bad or good-
A vision which I understood.

Some things my life have come to birth;
Some things I won’t see while on earth,
Except within this mirrored glass
I saw my life as time was cast.

BG Jenkins ©2017


As first seen on

Have a good day!

Sincerely, BG

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