Rebecca Anne Banks (Poet, Singer, Songwriter, Musician, Writer, Artist, Philosopher, Counselor, Activist)
lives in The New Age Renaissance Republic of Poetry. She is the Poetry Editor at Subterranean Blue Poetry
(www.subterraneanbluepoetry.com),
the CEO/Artist at Tea at Tympani Lane Records
(www.tympanilanerecords.com), and the Book Reviewer at The Book Reviewer
(www.thebookreviewer.ca).
She has written more than 27 books of poetry, a guide to The Holy Spirit, a primer on discernment in marriage,
a book of family recipes, a book of children’s stories and a book of World Peace Newsletters, all available on Amazon Station.
She has books awaiting publication (including The Dinner Party and Other Short Stories) and is currently
writing 7 books of poetry, Candy and Anarchy, The Colour of Pomegranates, La Republique de Bleu/The Republic of Blue,
Passengers, Paris Blue,Sign Posts and Sleeper. Letters from Winter written in both French and English,
inspired by the vigil and works of Leonard Cohen has recently been published. Poet Banks is an Associate Member of The League
of Canadian Poets. She is working on publishing her EBooks into paperback. She also has 17 CD's of unrecorded music and
lyrics awaiting production.
Her music sounds like Bob Dylan, Don McLean, and a Folk/Rock Loreena McKennitt. She has produced and
recorded 3 CD's of music, Rebecca Anne Banks: Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed and Something
Blue, The Madrigal and Dance Summer Blue. She won an IAIRA award for Top 100 Internet Airplays,
2010, for Angel Song. Her writings are New Age synergies for peace,
full of barren images and Romance, creating a world of great darkness and great light. She has
been writing poetry since 1981, the WebSite a cornucopia of EBooks of Poetry, Music CD's, Music and
Poetry Videos, Children’s Stories, the beginnings of a Novel, World Peace Newsletters, Art and she
offers counseling through The Oracle Counseling Service.
In the blue of the stonework underground, in the imagine of Summer, into the silence and Romance,
the Poet sings . . .
