Anne Marron Rensel Madrid, Spain

Anne Marron Rensel, freelance writer of poetry and prose, retired Civil Servant, and traveler, resides with her husband in Madrid, Spain. Four of their five children also reside in Europe. Her credits include many published magazine and newspaper articles and poems, two novels published in new York (Avalon) and one in Madrid (Graficas MACE, S.A.). Her collection of poems, Lifelines (Ink Drop Press/an imprint of ROAD Publishers) appeared in 1993. Her first poem was composed at age five ("Shower" in "Lifelines"). She once commented that poetry is "a magical escape from the hectic artificiality of today's world."

Thought Transference from a Future Century? I really cannot tell you Which module I've liked best, For one is like another, Each is like the rest; I'm assigned by my work level With a hundred thousand more, And the only real difference Is the number on the door; Each convenience is provided, But -- no pets, no plants, no mess; Every comfort is provided And it's strangely comfortless. I'm trying to build a time machine In the past to roam; I'm trying to build a time machine so I can find a home.

Linkage Never such perfect trust shall I see As the face of my child, looking at me, And my trust in the future, be it stormy or mild, Is forever enmeshed in the fate of my child.

Insomnia When a night city Tinges a lowering sky With the virtual reality Of a false dawn, One longs for darkness, Starlight and moonlight, Outlines of lanes, trees, And simple house forms Sending warm lamplight, As surely it must have been Before Edison's "brainstorm". Then, night silence reigned Supreme in a realm of shadows And deep, restful, sleep.

Spain The coastal belt is all most tourists know In their search for sun, and sand, and sea; The soul of Spain is safely hid away Behind old walls within the centuries flow; Musty facades from which the tourists flee, But for a few, who feel an urge to pray.

Transformation When young, insecure, uncertain of my worth, I learned to hide behind a mask Of confidence and mirth. Pleasing, and equal to the task, Friends it gained, and pride But, insidiously, It has swallowed me; There is nothing, now, to hide.

All poems Copyright © 1996 Anne Marron Rensel. All rights reserved.