Ode to Ex-Husband

adult adventure beautiful climb
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Ode to Ex-husband

Forgetting to remember you.

Going to places we never went,

just so I can try out this new life,

where your negativity does not exist.

This new life where I can remember how to laugh again.


Copyright 2019, Jenny W. Andrews


Please remember to check out my poetry book “Life at the End of the Rainbow.” It is published under my name Jenny Andrews. It is available in both paperback and Kindle on Amazon. I am interested in knowing what you think. Thanks!


Watching World


photo of telephone booth
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Lives thick with regret,

things that securely hidden in the darkest depths of my heart leak out like poison.

I would wait a thousand lifetimes just to explain the unexplainable to my own reflection in the mirror of my mind.

I can still see him under the streetlight walking toward me and me pausing as if the watching world did not matter.

Memory like a movie replaying relentlessly.

Yearning to step into that scene and feel the passion again.

Memory turns to regret,

because there are things left undone,


And now the world has moved on and so have we.

All that remains are the promises that rot away like discarded poems in closed drawers.

Copyright 2019, Jenny W. Andrews

My poetry book “Life at the End of the Rainbow” is available on Amazon/Kindle. It is available in both Kindle and paperback. I look forward to receiving your feedback. Thanks.




brown wooden armchair on brown wooden floor
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Chair in the corner of the dining room,

and Daddy sitting in it, and only the orange glow from the ashes,

and gray puffs of smoke,

gave any signal of human presence.

Otherwise it was just the darkness and a chair in the corner,

otherwise it was just daddy in the dark and all alone.

I watched the firelight from the cigarette, as a child,

and wondered why the night was so black,

and why Daddy was so alone, and why voices rang out in the night.

I thought of Mama in the next room sleeping,

and I wondered why I was so small, and why Mama and Daddy never laughed.

And I felt like the night, cold,

and like Daddy,

and like Mama.

so all alone.

Copyright 2019, Jenny W. Andrews


My poetry book “Life at the End of the Rainbow” is currently available at Amazon/Kindle. I would love to hear any feedback about my poetry. Thanks.




aky beautiful bloom blooming
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Pretty painted portraits. Pink petunias, luscious lilacs.

A world suffocated in its own rich aroma of earth, sweetness. Grass like emerald blades swipe at my bare calves. Softness shouldn’t hurt but it does.

Rain teases petunias into revealing softness-a world like cotton and silk-glide by and trouble me.

Deceptively sweet.

Should I trust this God who has lulled me into a colorful floral valley warmed by sunshine and cooled by sweetly scented breezes?

Should I?

Should I?

Copyright 2019 Jenny W. Andrews


selective focus photo of brown fruit
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A thought turned over in my mind; melancholy morning mulling over the rumors of his return that never will be.

I do not believe in love, but the hunger is ripe like rotted apples decaying in the sun, puddles splashing along the thought.

Love me,

I used to say,

but, rotting apples decay.


Copyright 2019  Jenny W. Andrews


photo of people on rowboat during sunset
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I love to experiment with different poetry techniques. One of my favorite is Haiku. I like its linguistic efficiency. Seventeen syllables (divided 5,7,5) in three lines can be a challenge because word choice is extremely important. Traditionally, Haiku is to  offer an image of the natural world. The image is like word art. The reader should “see” the image.

Here are some of my Haiku poetry:


Scorching sand sky sea

Sun sailing so soundlessly

Skyward searchingly


Leafless branches stab

At a frozen sky and point

At the fleeing Spring


An upright structure

Gray stone halting my passage

To the other side.


I believe that writing should be fun; writing should be about freeing our creative expression. Too often in this world people attach monetary amounts to judge value. People will say “Well, you can’t make any money as a poet” as if money is all that matters in this world. Money, of course, is important. However,  creative expression is the magic that gives this universe its timeless beauty. Creative expression makes this life worth living. Imagine if tomorrow there were no paintings, novels, poetry, movie scripts, etc. How empty our world would be! Creative expression is about freedom to express our vision of this life-the beauty as well as the ugliness. Creative expression should challenge us all to think beyond just our existence and to look into the far future. Imagine hundreds of years from now if someone could still enjoy the poetry that you have written. Think about all the poets from the past and how their words still touch the human soul right now to this day.

I can only hope that my poetry will have that kind of impact.

Thanks for reading!