The first thing I saw early this morning
when I pulled back the blue-sky curtains
was a hectic white and orange butterfly
waving in the fair sun of my garden -
between the enclosed well and the laurel tree.

On the scarlet, bright sidewalk,
two damsels strutted together;
a turquoise skirt wore the one,
a chocolate T-shirt the other.
Jubilant they were together,
for the cadence of their laughter
waved in the air as Tunisian silk.

See?
No harvest did my screen display today -
no mountain range loomed far in the distance -
all that was unraveled were a laughing sidewalk,
and a quivering sun in a small garden.

(c) LazharBouazzi, April 21, 2016; revised, August 17, 2016

Flying around uprooted and groundless
Freer than wind from one ear into other
Constants are constant, all else shall pass
Consolation sufficient liberating thought
An illusion of an idea
Comes to my mind, no erupts and breaks in
Meaning that does not measure
To neither length nor color, temperatureless and bland... Idea
Thought... Lighter than air...
Yet feeling weighs more than a mountain...
Being a thought, an intangible substance of
External force overtaking the inner Galaxy ... How strange how lovely how refreshing
Like a fountain of nonesence so lively and warm so cold and greasy so sloppy and sad
So much in between so many layers and shades
All illusion yet more real than my skin

.

I stood at the gate
and was shocked to find
the clasp unfastened

It swung freely on its hinges
as if it had not a care
to whom might enter or leave

I looked out towards the horizon
across the wintered over field,
a stark white landscape

I saw nothing but barren trees with
twisted branches creaking,
silhouettes reaching on an opaque sky

I felt scared and nervous, what
would happen now that the entryway
to my life had been left open

Then I felt someone take my hand,
and looking to my right, there you were,
smiling a sunrise on my face

The day began to sing
in sweet breezes, soft on my skin,
gathering warmly in my heart

So I pulled the gate closed,
secured it tightly and felt the first
hint of spring in your kiss

She was our first grandchild
And naturally
We loved her dearly
And I adored her
As only grand-dads can
And she latched onto me

She used to come to us every Tuesday
At a time when kids are most interesting
She was fully conversational
(Didn't we all know it)
Her personality was emerging
And she was still young enough
To have her originality and imagination
My little gold mine of joy

And this is how it would go

"Grand-dad, you be the shop keeper
And I'll bring my dollies in for clothes."
So she would lay out her doll's outfits
And bring her dolls forward to buy clothes
She would haggle over the price (and win)
And pay me in cardboard coins

"Let's watch a video, Grand-dad!
Let's watch Barny!" (Again)
I hate that ****** purple dinosaur
And Katie thinks he's wonderful
That smarmy voice of his
"I love you and you love me,"
I bleeding don't you know
I wouldn't let him within a hundred miles
Of any kids of mine.

In the course of the day
I would be called upon
To play multiple parts in
Everything from The Three Bears
To Little Red Riding Hood
In which I memorably became
Big Bad Wolf and Grandma
And presumably ate myself

But the highlight of the day
Was the last thing before she went home
The weekly show
"Introduce me, Grand-dad!"
In my best showman's voice
"Ladies and gentlemen...!"
To my wife and dog
"...The moment you've been waiting for.
Fresh from her recent tour
Of our back garden.....
Miss Katie......."
"Katie Spice, Grand-dad."
"Miss Katie SPICE!"

Into some popular ditty of the day
Issuing from her at full volume
Then she would stop mid-line
While she did a little dance step
All greeted by thunderous applause
In her head it was Carnegie Hall
Rather than my wife, my dog and me
So, a happy end to a happy day
Then Katie went home
And I slipped into an exhausted coma

                                           By Phil Roberts

Do something magical
Everyone waits for magics
Your talent contains this
Take it to that level

Lets go where we can pluck the happiness
out of the jaws of sadness
and drive away those darkened corners.
Where we can burrow in only lighted tunnels
that have only honey phrases
we can lap up anytime we want.
Where we wear funny goggles
to comb through all the fields of thought.
Where we can jump from one cloud of happy
vision to the next and swim and
drink freely in the cool labyrinths
Lets meet inside on the merry round.

Despite the surf conditions
I am going in, I am having the
last splash of the summer,
That’s filled with swimming,
the fragrance of the sunscreen,
and the laughter of the playing children
Despite the rolling of the thunder vikings

The dance of those umbrellas,
to the musical sound of the wind
I am going in,

The sea and salty breeze,
Would no longer moisturize my face,
The sand would no longer, tickle my toes
and soon the frigid winter chill will swallow us whole
Leaving the sandy beaches, completely deserted
With the remains of dead Sanderlings birds on the shore
and no more three-toed imprints left behind for us to enjoy.

so, I am going in the water

My mum is so beautiful
My mum is so kind
My mum is so sweet
I love my mum so much
My mum gave me life
Thank you mum you gave me
a lot when you had 6 other children to see too you done it on your own thank you mum
Am sorry for all the fights and squabbles.
I thank you for giving me a roof over my head and comfort when I was weak. Love you mum

Our lives are just like books
Filled with numerous chapters
We may not like what’s inside
But turning the page and
Continuing the story
Is the only way to move on

Dandelions are the most independent flower.
They grow where they want.
No one plants them.
They’re free.
They’re infinite.
I felt infinite picking them in the apple orchard with you.
We were free.
We were infinite.  
I couldn't handle my smile watching you,
Rip them out of the earth by the handfuls.
Your face was covered in sunshine and pollen.
It might have been the pollen that resembled sunlight.
Regardless,
You emitted the sun in a way I've never seen before.
I refuse to accept that dandelions are weeds,
Because I want to be a dandelion with you.