when the moon was full,
grandpa and I would stay in town past sunset
the road home good, with few ruts, the pastures soft
silver in all that lunar light

his team was old, slow,
but grandpa knew no haste
even getting to the cellar, when
great twisters came

born the week Lincoln freed the slaves
he not once drove a car, though he lived
to read of Sputnik in the Gazette,
and died when JFK was elected

summers lasted a long time
with grandpa--I still see him. giving reins
a gentle shake, reminding his horses to pull us home
whistling to them, telling me tales

on a July night, the year of the Crash
he put his gaze on the fat orb, barely waning
“one day we'll put a man up there,” he proclaimed
but I thought he was pulling my leg

“have to put him in a cannon like,
enclosed in some hard shell, otherwise
we’d blow him all to hell, gettin' enough power
to loose the bounds of God's earth”

grandpa didn't live to hear Neil's famous words,
two score years after that summer night; though I yet hear the shod
hooves plodding, the wagon wheels rolling, and his words
soothsaying, whenever I gaze at a white moon’s face

Once Sadie O’Leary’s dementia
Brought her to ‘Whispering Pines’
A nursing home at the edge of the woods
Where she played in earlier times

Her loving son bought her Nikes
For Sadie was sturdy and strong
Her sneakers got quite a work-out
Whenever the door alarms bonged

That happened almost daily
Sadie escaped out that back door
Into the woods she scampered
As I raced to fetch her once more

A good headstart down the timeworn path
Now overgrown and winding
While I just turned 30- so winded
Sadie’s ahead at 90

Sadie O’Leary kept going
So wiry and wiley was she
I heard the alarm bells ringing
Far away from Sadie and me

Sadie, wait!  Where are you going?
She was determined like no other
Her nostrils flared when she declared,
“I’m going to have lunch with my mother!”

Finally able to reach her
Grasping onto both of her hands
Remember she died years ago?
Your mother’s house no longer stands!

"Don’t you think I know that?!”
Glaring into my eyes brightly
Turning round to go back
Sadie gripped my hand so tightly

A comfortable symbiosis
Her foundation by the stream
Tomorrow we'll go together
Who am I to spoil her dream?

It was a Thursday night
As dull as mud
And the guy I was with
Was as much fun as a broken tv
Then this bloke came into the bar
Who knew my companion
And came to join us
He said to our mutual friend,
"Eyup, Brooksy.
D'yer fancy gettin' ******?"
Brooksy sat there moaning
With a face like a slapped ****
"Nah...I'm workin' in the morniin'"
I, who was also working next day
Said, "I'll get ****** with yer."
And a lasting friendship was born

Now, my mate and I
Both needed the kind of friend
Who would calmly say
"Now hang on....that's not clever."
But instead we were both the sort
That said, "Yea, let's do it.
It'll be a laugh!"
Which led to dubious adventures
Sometimes things got dangerous
And others just plain daft
But I have to say, on the whole
It usually was a laugh

                                      By Phil Roberts

She's a smile
A warm June rain
A raspberry tea during a firefly show
A child's creative finger on a frosted window
The wonder of the first snow
The oak fire , the crackle and the glow* ...

At the Roseberry Farm arbor where
Rhode Island Reds continually determine
the pecking order
Where spearpoint spurred roosters -
do honest battle in the name of the governed
A place where the continuity of the flock , respect ,
dignity and grace are treasured
The well being of all measured
Where the reign of Kings are subject to the congregations
pleasure* ...

We are clay in the hands of Donatello
Waiting for our role
With hopes of one day becoming whole
To receive knowledge voraciously and to grow
To harden and weather in Summer sun
To serve as a reminder for our future
sons
To embody them with the spirit to carry on* ....