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Best Poems Written by Annabelle Bentley

Below are the all-time best Annabelle Bentley poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Annabelle Bentley Poem

Waiting

Everyone wants someone to make them whole.
I have dissected myself. 
Mind, body, Soul.

I am not missing a part.
I’ve just shattered my heart.
Poked at my mind until it became numb.

Like paper, soften the edges of my pieces
with your tongue
And glue them back together

so I’m no longer undone.
I want to know every piece of you, 
every treasure clue.

And until I find them all I will not rest.
Then, we can weave our lives together, 
become one flesh.

Details | Annabelle Bentley Poem

Divine Magnetism

I am holding your eyes, feeling your words,
The waves gently overwhelm me, coaxing,
Pulling me under and luring me in.
Recede, leaving me freezing, shivering.

I am holding your eyes. If you were wise,
You would hold me. Feel your words. Yet with sage,
You are waiting, for her, testing your faith.
The cold kisses my bones and I ache.

The current rocks me and I am sleeping
Finally. Before, I gave up all my nights
 to your watery words. You are walking
And I am drowning in the dark, silent.

With choking breath, I get closer to the shore each day.
You move, with God’s sea, away.

Details | Annabelle Bentley Poem

If only you knew

If only you knew 
How, like a wallflower, I have wished for you.

Too shy to lift my eyes to yours.
Your wrists. Your shoulder.
I lean on you to steady me,
Wobbling above,
I wish we were in love.

Maybe it's best that I stay away
But does she write you poems like this?

Sometimes you are just a name 
and a time zone
And I wonder
Are you counting backwards 
eight hours as I do forwards?

Expecting to see you
 behind the wheel of every red car I see 
but you are not the only person who drives a red car. 

I wished for you
 when I tossed my penny in the fountain
And I hummed your song on the train home.

Details | Annabelle Bentley Poem

Truly British Dogs

There once was a field, with a tree
On which all of the dogs liked to pee,
And whilst one was urinating,
The other sixteen were waiting,
In a queue- oh so orderly!

Details | Annabelle Bentley Poem

Wallflower

It is only now,
As I bathe in the sun,
That I notice you,

Little one.

I recognise you
In this light
And yet you’ve always been here
Smiling bright,

Watching wise
as the seasons sing,
Waiting for me to love

 the little things 

And now, as I sit here 
soaking the rays
I declare I will return
Even on the rainy days.

Details | Annabelle Bentley Poem

Mountebank

You made me less.
Sleepless.
And now I’m falling asleep at the table.
Theology swims, 
Trapped in my teacup.

You made me weak.
Weak as the colour pink,
And still,
I shrink.

You lied.
The cat was not blue,  
The things you said were not true.
But I tried.

You said you could save me. Lord,
You were just somebody
To talk to
When I was bored.

Details | Annabelle Bentley Poem

Entropy

’I can’t believe I thought that’, I told her
Wishing it were true.

I know friendship is built on truth and trust
But I just

Can’t let her see it.
Expose the expiration of my heart.

I won’t wear it on my sleeve
Because I would hate to admit

how it bleeds.

‘I can’t believe I thought that’, I told her
But hours later,

You walk in and sit beside me
And it feels just like it used to.

I said ‘I can’t believe I thought that’
And I was talking about you

But the thing is,
I can

believe that I thought that
Because I still do.

Details | Annabelle Bentley Poem

Heat death from passion

Love’s infinite cliches glue me to this earth.
In the end, we are, yet, nothing but dirt.
For what it’s worth,
Entropic defiance is life’s tender hurt.

Details | Annabelle Bentley Poem

A Spire

I take for granted the company of those people,
The truth that reveals itself in the moments we share,
Familiar and sturdy as a hometown steeple,
Intimately connected like a careful prayer.

But we’re told to look up to the sky.
It’s what we’re meant to do.
The steeple thins and reaches high
To places we don’t have a clue.

Details | Annabelle Bentley Poem

The Authentic I

I cannot see untainted,
The world without the warping windows.
I fail to make, for I am merely 
An illusion of inconsistencies
Stolen from society.

I wonder how open a mind can be before its brains
start to
spill.

The buttons on a blouse, 
the proportions of her face, 
the rules of a tennis court,
Lost in this familiar place.


The simple essay makes me think.
A pen out of ink.
We shrink.

What will happen when I experience
The real world?

Get a grip
And grow up.