I watched as the rain fell from her stormy eyes. The mist rising with her mystery, unsure if any of this was real.
As the unlucky forecast passed, the fog arrived. Under her abstract, sharp nose I watched the smoke leave. Her lips were rough, chipped and cut; worn out by the oblivious addictions that might be haunting us all.

I remember when she still seemed happy. Playing her favourite songs and dancing in the rain that once symbolised the beginning. Naked innocence radiated from her.
I hadn't loved her then. She was most beautiful when she was mad. Forbidden words sounded like lullabies leaking from her tongue and her punches felt like soft blows of kisses.

I selfishly absorbed her misery and used her love. Straining to keep her mad, and beautiful.

The fog cleared. Silence followed. The presence of the humidity engulfed us with unfathomable pebbles. Beauty prevailed.

She Is Never Far Away

I wonder what she would say
If she were sitting here today
Would she tell us that her pain was gone
That God had taken it away

Would she tell us stories of the past
Or of what our future holds
Give a glimpse of what's in store
And say she met the Lord

Would she know how much we miss her
Miss the love that she once gave
Tell us that although she's gone
She's now in a better place

Would she sit and talk for hours
Give advice on what to do
Crochet an afghan blanket
Then say this one's for you

Would she say she sees her father
Her mother stands there by her side
She feels the sorrow that we have
But must walk into the light

Would she say she knows our love for her
Hears the prayers each night we say
That she will always be our mom
And she is never far away


In Memory for my mother
M. Yvonne Roberts**
1938 to 2014


Poem by Carl Joseph Roberts
I love you Mom
Walk in peace with the prince of peace.