My Bonnie galA Poem by Coyote PoetryPoem seven for April. The poetry month. My Bonnie gal I returned to Glasgow in late 1979. I was trying to find a memory, a kind memory. In the Spring of 1978, a beautiful Bonnie girl loved me so. She was auburn hair beauty who could make me laugh and smile. I loved looking into her golden brown eyes when she talks of her home Glasgow. She stole my heart and she allowed me into her heart. Drinking the Johnnie Walker whiskey. I wrote to paper. "Dear Sheena, my kindest love. I am here in Glasgow. I returned to the old city to remind my heart. I loved a beautiful Bonnie girl once and the foolish soldier, loved war more than love. Now he wait for no-one. I told the bartender Paul. I broke a beautiful Scottish girl heart and I broke my heart too. I am here in the city of Glasgow. Not to find her, I know she found a true love. I learn too late. Only love can hurt like this. I needed to feel close to her and in the city of Glasgow. Once I asked her to marry me in the Winter of 1998. She smiled and she told me yes. Please Johnnie, don't break my heart. I did, break her heart." Paul looked sad and he told me. Won't you call her and tell her you are here. Our Bonnie girls are kind and she will forgive you. I told him, thank you Paul. She forgave me in the Spring of 1999. I cannot forgive myself. Her kind and sweet voice on the phone, she told me. You were my first love, my first heartbreak. I will remember you my traveling soldier who loved to laugh and drink. Please find something or someone to make you stop running away from everything kind and sweet. I loved you once and I don't love you no-more. A kind man, I have found. Please stay safe my dearest Johnnie. I love you. I bought me and Paul, a double shot of Johnnie Walker. We touched glasses and I toasted to Sheena, the beautiful Bonnie gal in Glasgow. Coyote
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5 Reviews Added on April 7, 2021 Last Updated on April 8, 2021 AuthorCoyote PoetryMIAboutA Poet and writer who love to read and write. My pleasure is reading about the bad and good in a life. Also to honor the Poets/Writers of the past by reading their words. Remember .. more.. |

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