First light brings with it
an empty town to play in.
You, wild-eyed and messy haired
Mixed up words and inside jokes
Walk three steps ahead of me, and explain
How you've pulled the pockets from your jeans because you hate the thought of carrying anything with you.
Splintered grass between your fingertips
Makes me feel young again.
I run between trees with you
and we pull down branches to see
How far they bounce back.
It is hours before I realize I've dropped the act.

I don't desire to touch you
But when you laugh I feel the warmth
healing the black and blue bruises inside me.
Touch the afternoon sunlight
ravel it round your fingertips
and drag it down to your cheek.
You are entirely made of stars.

I love you onion
I'll tell you why
in part because
you make me sigh,
you are everything to me
the song my Mother sang...
a whimsical, sad
and poignant little tale
I hear you crooning
& the radio tuning
my Mother knew me better
than I'd like to think,
singing ...
Lonely 'Lil petunia in an onion patch
a bittersweet memory
of all the saddest words
that I have ever heard
the saddest is the story
told me by a bird
tears fall from a pungent smell
when I cannot forgive,
say you'll never tell
and in tears of laughter  
when I'm tickled
seeing the inchworm
in the shape of a finger
a moment comes,
  I stay
and linger
climbing like a spider
singing me a verse
Spent about an hour
chatting with a flower
and here's the tale he told
as you're peeling layers,
& hearing prayers
revealing honesty
and depth of flavor
intoxicating waifs
I sniff and savor
kept safe
by a sturdy skin
cooking you
I start, begin
chopped fresh
and finely diced
or maybe
even thinly sliced
for summertime
franks, not the
Ballpark kind
these I doubt
you'll ever find
homemade baked beans
that you adorn and grace
a smiling sweet,
lil' onion face
everything made
from scratch
gleaning my
lil' onion patch
in toasted rolls,
whole grain mustard
potato salad...
best I can recall
my Mother
took the time to make
in everything
she cooked and baked
you're in all my memories
though you're in so much more
I've never shared with you
this love I have before
Onions are adaptation at its finest
fresh, sauteed with butter
translucent sweetness
Elevating anything you touch
they cry, and laugh
and give so much
dried, grated..slightly dated...
even hated, chopped up..
or roasted, grilled...
so very skilled
any way you slice it
even if you dice it
differently delightful
and delicious
smart for recipes,
even onion haters
appreciate the graters
sometimes your in  disguise
a lovely found
& welcome surprise
must be
I have something
in my eyes
as the flower
continues to sing
a joyful gift
my onion brings
familiar sounds
songs I sing
petunia continues
who put me in this bed
I'll bet his face is red
I call him down
with every teardrop that I shed
  then she said
if only I had him here
I would take him by his ear
and make him share my misery
I'm cooking homemade
onion chips,
rewound on old-time family clips
recall the fresh-squeezed lemonade
while we're sittin' in
the cooling shade
a memory of you replayed
so very glad you came & stayed
  sippin' slow brewed iced tea
my lil' onion friend and me.

Cherie Nolan© 2016

i'm not broken
sure
i've been through a lot
i've been beaten
and worse
i find it hard to trust
and sometimes
i trust
too much
i remain closed off
and yet open
so
wide
i am vulnerable
scared
an anxious bundle of worries
a truly happy soul
i love
i cry
i make bad choices
i believe in fairy tales
i believe in happy endings
yet i see dragons
in men
and their demons
within
but i see light too
in the hearts
of good men
and often
i cower
from both
i have lived
when i thought
i would die
i suffered
the things words
cannot say
and yet
i am not broken
**** that
the last thing
i will ever be
is broken

I felt this primal urge
This trance-like instinct
To set things right
In case I have to leave
Move on, so to speak

So
I took my jaundiced eye
And rolled it from corner to corner
Of this, my situation
And I felt so very small and hard
Lost in largeness
For cynicism is a tight thing
Which allows little movement
A strange kind of chastity

And then, you see
Changes
Honesty demanded that I see more
Grow, so to speak

And oh, my poor sore eyes
See how the children starve
All over this bitter world
This bitter, sickened world
And cynicism did this
Through the slack hands of millions
Who still refuse to believe
That things can be changed

                                    By Phil Roberts

and that is why
i love you
because i feel
your gentle spirit
in between
each pause
for breath
i feel
your kindness
seep
through my pores
and find
it's home
under my
skin
and i know
in my
heart
you are pure
golden light
and i will stand firm  
beside you
with pride
by virtue of
your kindness
your want
for peace
your love
for those
lowly
and lost

The thunder roared and rumbled
Without pause
The lightning was so quick
Like strobe lighting
And the rain fell like a million waterfalls
As the storm raged on and on
Biblical in it's violence

Then slowly
The thunder rolled away
And the lightning ceased to flash
Until even the rain subsided
That's when I came to realise
That the storm still lived
And it lived in me

                                     By Phil Roberts

the dust will settle
and i will come
searching
under the ground
to find you

still breathing
still bleeding
still needing
air
my love
i will find one more
breath
for you
as you gasp
and grasp for
for heaven

but
my love
smile with me
let it go
for all we need
to hold onto
is the sky
between our fingers

hands holding tight
look at me
look
at
me
see no lie
place my promise
in your heart
where it belongs

and i will save us both