Anne Reynolds

Anne is a prize-winning, published poet whose style is eclectic in content and style.  She finds inspiration in the everyday surreal and quirky things that happen to us all.  Her love of creativity also spills into her professional life where she is the Training Manager for Tony Buzan (MIND MAPPING®). 

A late starter, she did not go to university until 1995 and graduated with a 1^st in English Literature in 1998.  This passion for learning then took her to the City where she used her own poetry in the training sessions she delivered to lawyers.

  Anne runs an annual poetry competition for Rhyme & Reason magazine (all profits go to Iain Rennie Hospice at Home).  The subject for 2010 is ‘Dreams’; if you would like to enter, please go to

http://www.irhh.org/sitehome/fundraising/

fundraisinggroups/rhyme_reason.html

Captain Robertson set sail from Hell

Bound for everlasting damnation,

Sapless bones make music; distant drums echo -

Decomposition freed you inchmeal

From the manacled embrace,

Living cargo breathing down below,

Currency's demise as cold waters flood

The straining nostril's flare of hope;

Twice five score years the whispers

Swelled to howls of outrage, shame and grief;

Ebony flesh decays to white ivory and

Accusing, sightless skulls confront

The persistence of the impartial tides,

Rapparee Cove, the makeshift grave

For sixty heathen souls that night.

The 'London' dashed against the rocks

Spewing out its treasures as the greed

Died in the captain's eyes.

Silver and gold in shifting sands

Survived October's dusky chill,

Sapless bones make music and I

Can hear the sound of echoing, distant drums.

[60 slaves died, fettered to the ship's timbers, aboard the 'London' in the charge of Captain Robertson on the 9th of October 1796.  They were part of the prize money won from the French in the Caribbean Campaign.  The black slaves were not given a Christian burial in consecrated ground but were buried in the sands like a guilty secret.]

 paradigmos@aol.com

© Anne Reynolds