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Amanda Reynolds

Email: amanda@mistley83.freeserve.co.uk
Updated: Sun, 8 May 2011 09:44 am

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Biography

I live in East Anglia but come from 'the wilds' of South Gloucestershire. I like to read and write poetry when enough time can be found!

Samples

Ice Age It's time for me to go now, Away from this place, this cold area, Sea gulls fly in from the water, The constantly bitter wind carries them along. Will I be rescued from this chair, Could I move from my window Where I watch the seasons change? I was numb, I didn't feel it firmly and completely take grip, But now, looking down I see Crisp, dry wrinkled skin on my hands, My grinding bones ache, Gone are the days of warmth. Looking out from this ageing shell and down to the river, The warm flame of the morning sun dances, Bringing colours back into the weathered landscape. As the rich beam of light reaches my feet A shadow is cast, the blanket falls from my knees, A familiar iciness runs along my flesh. Still here, still here as always. Into The Night I'm trudging along, driven and drenched, driven by love and drenched from the storm, thinking about the smirk on your face as you walked off into the deep blue night. The night was blue because it wasn't yet black and a couple of bats flew low around our heads. I could smell the corn fields behind the house, a fly was floating on the beer in my glass, the beer was warm, you were cold, icy cold. The dress you wore was your shortest and slinkiest, molded to your skin like soft warm wax, slowly dripping down to your tiny, perfect, pointed feet. The features on your face had got lost in the darkness, just a gentle glow from your golden hair could be seen. You told me you were going to to a bar in the city, with some people, to have a good time and that I would never see your skin again. I can't let you go, it's so close to midnight, I must track you down and bring you back home. I'm trudging along, driven and drenched, driven by love and drenched from the storm. More Than Just A Pale Memory Never showing your naked emotions, You toy with peoples hearts, Pawing at their desires. I've watched you with your captives, How you taunt them, Slowly you move, Circling them, Always watching, Always knowing As you descend upon them. They hunger for you And take you as you are. All who are attracted to you are blinded, Like moths to a bright, shining light, Your power overwhelms, Your words are deceptive, A need for adoration, always apparent in your eyes, Dark, sinister eyes that mask the fading soul within. A man who is loved so much, By so many, Hides behind a barrier so high, Never wanting to be seen, For if revealed, Your world would surely crumble around you And you would simply be, no more. More than just a pale memory, My friend of old, We once shared the emptiness of straying. Still locked inside my head, I feel you some where pacing As the echoes of your screams become dim. A father, a brother, A lover, a protector, An aggressor, a child, Someone kind, someone cold, Someone hurting and lost, never to be found. Caged Caged and blindly content, with glistening adornments. Thin, half smiles from a man that doesn't look at you, weakened by each word he slips in your ear. Ingesting his power as he suffocates silently the life that you used to live, choking back thoughts, mixed in with salt water that used to be your precious tears. I would open the door of that cage and free you from all you endure, but you won't come out. Frightened and frail, you timidly cling to the sides as he feeds you his poison, slowly stripping you down to a dry, brittle carcass, until your bones have turned to dust. Round Old Man Out on the bench he sits, beside the Chemist shop, he's there, every day, on his own, just sitting. Matted, grey hair, like an ancient woven hat, frames his telling face. His skin, like a worn out old brown over coat, thick, weathered and creased. The round old man, wearing dirty clothes and eating ice cream. He smiles at every body, No one notices, they walk on past, they always do. Fragile Fragile and pale, Her skin like a veil Reflecting the glow of the sun. As she spoke in a whisper I kissed her, hoping that she wouldn't run. One single tear Rolled down past her ear, Her eyes looked hollow and sad. My words started to crumble Into a jumble, yes she was driving me mad. Sitting for hours With her mystical powers, I'd become deeply intoxicated. Rational thoughts left my head, Fear had fled, now totally emancipated. She came to me, So all others could see That every ounce of her, every bone, Even her mouth and the white skin She was in, was meant just for me, alone.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

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Winston (Admin)

Tue 10th May 2011 10:02

Hi Amanda, Thankyou for completing your profile. Good to see it up here. Hope you enjoy the site. Winston

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