I once was a traveler wishing to be free,
but time slipped through my fingers
like sand in an hourglass.

Now my age and suffering has come
to a crossing, in between my strife
and short lived life lies the future
and freedom of my personal possibilities.

I am like a caged bird longing for
the wind to blow between my feathers
so I can be free and fly above
the horizon of my dreams.

Here is where I set fire to your minds
and inspire your imagination,
through my words and expressions
I am free like smoke from a candle
left to burn in the window of my
poetic vision.

Aw, and here lies my beating heart,
below the open window panes
it is beating for you, it waits for you
to read the lines I've designed.

I know I beat to a louder drum
than most, my flame is hotter
than others, but my moment
has always been now.

For I live for the future
and dream of the past.
And so the past is nothing
more than a memory, and
the future is now.

I have hope that my vision will see
beyond this haze and I will leap into
the possibilities that I am searching for,
only then will my mind be as warm as
my heart that burns hotter by the minute.

This is kindling for my flame,
I feed it with my poetic shavings,
from the past I came and into
the future I blaze.

I have left a candle in my
poetic window so all who gaze
upon this page will remember
my name.

Amanda, Amanda where aret thow?
Where have you placed your poetic tongue?
Have you forgotten the vision?
Is there poetic justice?

I'd like to imagine that the crimes
of a doomed poet is nothing more
than ashes and ink smears smudged
across your screen.

I the poet, none has been forsaken
nor forgotten, for my heart will
forever yearn for a garden
to plant my poetic blossoms.

Here I have roots and a personal domain.

My mind is set free through poetry.

No cage can possibly keep
my inspiration from leaping out
and catching your eye.

I am a poet forget me not,
for my words are yours to devour.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Here I am, sitting on pens and needles
pain is my companion.

I wasn't born a renegade, or a knight
in shining armor but I was born a fighter.

All these years have passed behind me,
I am turning fourty two soon
as I keep walking forward
looking behind me.

My footprints are a reminder
how far I've gone and the farther
I plan to go.

My memories follow into
the shallow waters of my life.

I keep going forward watching the
sun rise and fall, while the moon
peeks for a better view.

Sometimes I dip into the deeper parts
of myself, I tug on the possibilities of
my creativity and I write what I see.

I feel like I am falling but in reality
I am sitting still.

Anxiety is a struggle but here I am free
as I release my stress through poetry.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Chains rattle and bang,
dragging across my brain.

The doors creak, scratches across
the floor.

Emptiness is vast, a void creepy
and sad.

Ghosts linger here, memories of
lives passed.

They breathe decay, rust and rot.

A plume of smoke from a flame
smothered by time.

I am rooted in your deceit,
a rose with thorns.

I dream of being me, while my dreams
dream of being unique.

It is a dream within a dream,
do we ever truly wake?

A thought passes like a breath gasps
for a moment in time.

A passing phrase on a poetic gaze,
upon a heavenly sky the stars
shine and we fly.

My poetic mind opens wide,
behind my sleeping eyes lies
a feasting idea that eats prose
and verses.

Baking plots and cooking possibilities,
within my mind’s oven. I serve you my
poetic design.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

He came with an axe to chop down
the tree's, only to be greeted
by a beautiful maiden
dancing through the trees.

With her song she seduced him,
come closer to me and be my lover
a whisper came from the weeping willow,
lay with me.

As she drew closer the weeping willow
bloomed, blooms fell as winter
came upon a frozen kiss.

He laid down upon the cold ground
at her feet, as the roots grew around
his frame, devouring him and
he lost his heart to the beautiful maiden
underneath the weeping willow.

Owed to the weeping willow,
her lover buried under winters
frost weeps no longer.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Life is like crashing waves,
always rolling sometimes colliding
with our dreams.

We struggle to stay above the waves
while life keeps going, falling apart
at the seams.

Pieces of our achievements begin
to wash away into the seas of possibilities.
Making room for new possibilities or
for our dreams to drown in the depths
of the crashing waves.

You have a choice to learn how to surf
or go down with your dreams.

Oh what possibilities are these?

An artist suffers for their art,
it's both physical and mental.

The only difference between an artist
and other people, is the ability to express
themselves in a relatable and imaginable ways.

We are like the waves, crashing around
colliding with others through our art
and writing.

The Artist is inspiration for the possibilities.

We artists are a conundrum of sorts,
a rolling stone tumbling down a mountain.
It builds upon itself collecting ideas along
the way down.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Rushing through this moment on
a passing fraze, I fell along the way,
the rocks and dirt scraped my knees.
I bled poetry.

Running on a moment, got no time to sit
got no time to be falling on a dream.

I am running fast but times faster,
it's like being on the edge of possibilities
but never catching up to the dream.

The clouds gather here, a deep oppression
buried me in six feet of pain and suffering.

Rushing to the end, it seems deep but
there's only an inch of time to climb.

The walls slowly crumble, the house begins
to rumble, the ground shivers and the weather
quivers, life is one moment full of broken foundations and ruined walls that fell.

Only one remains, a 41 year old foundation
I've built from the ruins of my past.

These walls are built from pain,
the floor is made from my
broken heart pieces, the frame
is designed by emotions I've felt
alone the way. Love makes
the foundation strong and stable.

Life is not fragile and slow,
it survives many storms and
it is pathed with passion and strife,
the cold cuts like a knife, the heat
burns for a moment. But still I remain.

I rose from the ruins of my strife,
upon the broken ribs and grinding
pain I crawled. Picking up the pieces
from my broken heart.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

You loved me like a leaf blowing
in the breeze, you left me and
I started falling.

You never rooted our love,
you never hydrated the roots,
you never planned a plot to secure
our future.

Every time I built a *** you broke it,
every time I built a foundation you
damaged it, every time I fed the soil
you starved it, every time I tried to
consul you you buried it.

Upon the ruins of us you left
love to freeze and die.

Like winters deepest touch
you turned love into ice.

You are a cold memory
of what we could have been
now you're a gray storm,
dangerous and frozen.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton