Poetry Blitz

Mother & Son – a poem

Amanda G. Delaney

I used a pseudonym to experience the freedom of working under a different name; could say it’s a business name, Amanda G. Delaney. To create my first book of poetry, which I have published on amazon.com, I worked in a spiral bound notebook. When I was looking for some scrap paper to write upon I opened up the used notebook and found that I’d left the last three pages bare. Still, there are many entries that I have not disclosed publicly. However, some poems need to be shared:


Darkness clawed at her heart
“Let me inside”
Truth defended her soul
“Show me your ticket”
Nothing eased her torment but an uncontrolled tide
of love.

Forsaken by the world
and driven to an edge
She found release
upon the mountain forest
But in such confusion
a spark of friendship
and it came to her
that she was loved.

Jan. 20, 2019

Child of God

Volcano full of wisdom erupting fierce passion
Hot Mexican coastal tornado
Sweeping sand in a form of touch.
You exist.

Oh, rejoice!

I created the planets for you, my child.
I arranged the stars, child, just so.
Your electric joy is my gladness and I am freed in you.

My child, my child Jesus.

Jan. 20, 2019

Friends Forever

You lusted by a reflective pool for a perfect feeling.
In his image you found your reflection
Oh, didn’t you hear me calling through the thicket?
I called you. I watched your hair grow gray
You sat in a trance. Your body weakened
Night came when the reflection faded.
Then in the crackle of brown leaves around you
the season–your season–had ended
through it you had not lived.
In rags you now stand with my cradling hand upon your face.
Darling, I was screaming for you.
Come. It is still not too late;
to live a life of love and faith.
Say you will.

Jan. 20, 2019

Mother & Son

On the frosted earth
The wishes of a child
lingers in blue
left in a hurry but with
sweet pleading
“Mommy, let’s stay.”
In the small lost mitten
lay his heart beneath a swing.
“Let’s stay.”

And though there be no dirt aground
here she stands as the frost of the town
But if they’d only say, “hello”
It wouldn’t be so difficult for them, nor cold.
It gathers before the sparkles of her hat

Impossibly rooted and

Grace is the frost.
and She, its second act.

Jan. 23, 2019

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