I dreamed
I was
At Birthwaite
I awoke
I was

Keith Wilson, Windermere, UK, Oct 2016

Protected by a suit of dreams
And armed with a smile
He came out of nowhere
And went his own way

Seemingly believing nothing
And walking in no-one else's footsteps
He follows no rules without reasons
But he knows right from wrong
And he knows that's what matters

In a world of easy hypocrisy
Where compassion is stifled by fear
And belief is a reason to hate
To hate and destroy other beliefs
He goes his own way

                              By Phil Roberts

We’ve been together 7 years
Blind Faith is all we know
So just like Ruth I speak this truth
Where you go I will go

When struggles made us face our fears
Firm to the winds that blow
That we still elevate our years
With what we reap we sow

I want to live where you live
In harmony and peace
Only you my love to give
Till my last breath will cease

You question love and life
My Dear, you say the bar is low
No need for taking flight
No need to wonder if I’ll go

Much of my past was full
Of change that struck like lightening
Frantic and tense the rule
Unpredictable and frightening

We’ll share more moments together
Even with some push and shove
This sheltering tree I treasure
Basking in our blooming love

I repeat it’s true
With a glad free heart once again
Just to be with you
Is the best place I’ve ever been

Revealing a secret
That night turns
Into a  star

Just follow my wandering mind
my heart will be there.

If you've never burnt the candle
At both ends
You'll never know when to break
Or how far
You can bend

it operates like a glass ceiling
But is more often self- constricted.
It can come in a set;
One inside the other,
Inside another.

Some people are able to move
From the smaller to the larger.
There are no hinged sides
And any movement will cause shattering of glass
And sharp edges.

Sometimes after a breakthrough others follow.
They can see the shards of glass
And avoid them.

At first the glass sides are clean and clear
But they become clouded
By those breathing the stultifying air.

Those who grow inside the box
Become distorted
By its restrictions
And find their faces flattened against its sides.

Sometimes the box is a lonely place to be.

For those who leave
There's no return.

The air outside the box is rarified
And keeps one
gasping.