Little is known about Thomas Reynolds, except that he is a writer and poet who hails from somewhere in the Deep South.

He's thought to be a hobo drifter.

Do Not

Do not be afraid of the dark

Even if it rains,

And you have no one to hold

Or anyone to hold on to

Do not be afraid of the dark


Do not embrace the sorrow

Or the “something wicked this way comes

Hold on to your triumphs

Keep your dignity intact

Do not embrace the sorrow


When the darkness

Blots out the sunrise

Remember the glorious light

Of a new day dawning


And it’s waiting







What does my little eye spy?

The flicker of the Serpent’s tongue?

Mosquitoes fluttering near the lake?

A Hum?

A Buzz?

It is the sizzle of the night


Tales as old as Antiquity

Hush little baby don’t you cry

By why would you want a mocking bird?

Peace on earth is the battle cry


Sultan’s wings appear in the night

Cold, crisp and chilled

Stealers of desire

A plant in the sunshine

You wait with mock yearning


Fiddle me tender and fiddle me care

Lost somewhere in the cold midnight air

Rapture in a state of fire

Pulled neatly in the reign

A cold puff of madness feels the air


Alone upon a midnight clear