The Poetry Page of Bonnie Lee Reynolds
Bonnie Lee Reynolds was born on August 5, 1943, in Eire Pennsylvania, her father, Aubrey, was 38, and her mother, Clara, was 36 where born in Akransas. She had two brothers and two sisters. She died on July 1, 1997, in Hot Springs, Arkansas, at the age of 53.
EASTER
DAWN
Shakespearean Sonnet
I met
the Christ when day began to break
and morning pink became its very best,
for Jesus came within to gently wake
my soul in stretching streams of light that crest - -
And all the hours my Savior walks with me
like splendored sun that stays with earth through long
aeons to merge with ceaseless time; thus sea
unites a part of sky, and love is strong.
I think of other dawns that I felt sad.
for I did not have linking bond with God
and I began my trek alone and mad
at life that has a rigid iron rod.
It is no secret that arising rays
Of Son become The Light to Endless Days.
Lavilla News, Hot Springs News, AR 71909
Bonnie L. Reynolds Bonnie Lee Reynolds, age 53, died Tuesday, July 1, 1997, at
her home in Hot Springs.
Bonnie was born Aug. 5, 1943, in
Erie, Pa. She was one of five children born to Aubrey Edward Reynolds and Clara
Sybil Burns Reynolds. She is survived by two brothers, Robert E. Reynolds of Hot
Springs and Aubrey Wilson Reynolds of Athens, Ala.; two sisters, Mrs. Pat Reed
of Hot Springs and Mrs. Martha Vie Henning of Silverhills, Ala.; two aunts, Mrs.
Rachel Aleene King and Mrs. Ruth Ann McWherter, both of Hot Springs; four
nieces, Mrs. Darlene Monday of Little Rock, Mrs. Pam Hendren of Laurinburg,
N.C., Ms. Crystal Caldwell of Hot Springs and Mrs. Renee Gibson of Aransas Pass,
Texas; seven nephews, Scott Henning, Hunt Henning, Shane Reynolds, Joshua
Reynolds, Stephen Reynolds, Matthew Reynolds and David Reynolds; five cousins;
and 17 grandnieces and grandnephews.
Miss Reynolds was a well-known and prominent poet who devoted her life to the
love for writing. She was the author of a poetry collection titled "Touch of
Wonder," published in 1977, which is an expression of her faith in God' and the
wonders of his creation. Miss Reynolds once said, "To me, poetry is prayer. It
is another way to talk to God, to praise God. Poetry is a way of life; it can
touch the sorrows of life, lift up the spirits, speak of the finer things and
leave the reader with hope, with faith and love. Poetry is love." She also
published a second work in 1988 titled, "Hurry Dawn."
Miss Reynolds was a past editor of
the Kaleidoscope, a collection of poetry submitted by poets from around the
state, which appears in The Sentinel-Record.
Miss Reynolds was a member of
Roundtable Poets of Hot Springs, Poets' Roundtable of Arkansas, National
Federation of State Poetry Societies and was the prime mover in the organization
of Tri-Arts Chapter of the Arkansas Authors, Composers and Artists Society. In
the Roundtable, she has held many positions including president, vice president
and numerous other offices.
She held membership in the
Ozark Writers and Artists Guild. She was listed in Who's Who of American Women,
International Who's Who of Intellectuals, International Authors and Writers
Who's Who and International Who's Who in Poetry because of her contribution to
publishing.
Miss Reynolds graduated from Hot
Springs High School in 1962. She attended the College of the Ozarks at Point
Lookout, Mo., the University of Arkansas and Arkansas Tech at Russellville,
Ark., studying accounting and journalism. She was a production manager at the
Hot Springs News from 1969 to 1979, layout manager of La Villa Publication from
1979 to 1984, was employed at the Thrifty Nickel and was last employed at The
Sentinel-Record in bookkeeping and layout.
Bonnie was a member of Trinity
Church. She was a very sensitive and loving person who we will all miss very
much.
The funeral is being held at 2 p.m.
today at St. John the Baptist Catholic Church. The service will be shared by
Father James West and the Rev. Aubrey Reynolds.
Pallbearers will be Richard McEarl, Jim Robertson, Dan Dempsey, Howard Kilby,
and Joe Harrison and Joe Hardman.
Honorary pallbearers are Dr. Steve
Bodemann, Dr. Diane Bodemann, Dr. Kenneth Vest (Old Faithful), Dr. Prabhakara
Reddy and Dr. Rajesh Shroff.
Burial will be in Hollywood Cemetery.
Arrangements are by Hot Springs
Funeral Home.
Memorials may be made to Witness
Productions, Hot Springs Musical Passion Play to help with their new
amphitheater.
(Bonnie is the youngest of the three sisters in the Aubrey Edward Reynolds Family.
SATURDAY, JUNE 2,1990 - THE SENTINEL-RECORD
Reynolds to edit S-R poetry column Bonnie Lee Reynolds, local poet, is the new
poetry editor for The Sentinel-Record's Kaleidoscope column. Past president of
the Poets' Roundtable of Arkansas, Reynolds received the Arkansas Award of Merit
in 1985 for outstanding service in encouraging poets in the art, for promoting
an appreciation of poetry in the community, and for securing recognition of the
works of contemporary poets. She is currently vice president of Roundtable Poets
of Hot Springs and will serve as publicity director for 1990-91. She is a board
member at large for Poets' Roundtable of Arkansas and is anthology editor for
Poets' Roundtable of Arkansas.
Reynolds wrote two anthologies of
poetry A Touch of Wonder" published in 1977 and "Hurry Dawn" published in 1988.
She has been published in several anthologies, poetry journals and newspaper
poetry columns.
She is listed in Who's Who of
American Women, International Who's Who of Intellectuals, International Authors
and Writers Who's Who and International Who's Who in Poetry.
Poets should submit only their own original works for the Kaleidoscope column.
They should be mailed to Bonnie Lee Reynolds, 305 Westwood, Hot Springs, AR
71913. Enclose a self-addressed stamped envelope for the return of unpublished
poetry.
HURRY DAWN
Though the sun set
several minutes
Ago
Its reflection is still seen
streaking
The pinnacle of the
sky,
The florid firmament in the west
is warmed by the wind and scintillates...
It foretells the dawn.
In other parts of the
heaven
Clouds,
Are floating by.
They are like icebergs in the sea,
And I am not cold and alone,
Wandering aimlessly --
A will-o'-the-wisp-
Like these spectators
The day
turns
out
light
Like pulling a plug in the tub,
And slowly draining the water out.
A dull
haze
is
rolling in
As if it were raised by chariots of the sun.
The aging oak in my
front yard
Reflects the dim light
And my heart beats a stronger beat
At the sight before me.
The very wind on my cheek
Has more meaning.
Soon
The dark
Rests on Tower and West Mountains
And the park
is quiet-
So the hills support
the roof of the sky
and
the welkin covers
the dale of misty veil . . . vespers,
The landscape
Patiently
Waits
For light to come again.
I want to chase the orb and overtake
The day but instead
I wait
like the scenery about me
for it is faster to linger here
than hurrying to catch
The hour that is gone ...
Dawn will play peek-a-boo
On the edge of the earth soon.
Coolness comes to condense
The dews to form diamonds on the grass.
It cleans the miasmic atmosphere
made
by chain-smoking cars
and choking, coughing factories.
I listen to sounds of chirping crickets,
rustling leaves,,BR> barking dogs,
As the city goes to sleep,
And
wonder why?
The cricket,
the dog,
the wind,
will speak to me
encouragingly as the universe above me
progresses onward.
My thoughts come and go
as headlights
of automobiles
flickering,
flitting, flaring--
then gone.
I wonder about man's achievements
and the smog?
Still now,
So still and moderate is the night
Instead of flowers under my feet
there is foliage over my head:
pine needles mirror moonlight.
They seem silver and stand
thick on the surrounding mountains.
So close together they stand
like sentinels of nature
guarding
the sleeping people,
like columns of temples
praying
outstretching
to God.
Let mankind step to the beat of the drums
of the city hustle ...
... bustle!
The music
I hear tonight
Is nature's rhythm; dark setting down to sleep,
night tucking me in.
I yearn for the country
air:
The call
of the whippoorwill,
the croak
of a frog,
the hoot
of an owl.
My spirit is free as these creatures.
I'm not fenced in
By the city's boundaries
And my heart
Is more
In heaven
Than my feet are on the ground.
I wonder about mankind's
peace,
I wonder about his destiny.
Then
Look
For the sun to return
Hurry dawn!
Posted by Robert Reynolds
E-mail address boreyed@yahoo.com