I kept chasing
you, as if
you were
a distant dream.
But dreams
are not always
dreams.
Sometimes, we have
nightmares too.

it's been two months,
yet not a day has gone by without me thinking of you.

you were an angel that had gotten lost and fell on earth.

the angel that none of us deserved,
but needed.

through your beautiful lyrics,
you touched our hearts
and brought fixed our shattered hearts.

you were always so happy,
but you were unhappy

no one noticed your pain,
your screams for help,
your screams for someone to just tell you
that you did an amazing job.

and two months ago,
you found your way back home.

The wind today is a lonely one
It calls for spring like a long lost love
yet clings to winter’s solitude.

As I lie here
With eyes closed softly
I think deeply of you
And I inhale stars
The scent of twinkling light
So fresh and alive
Sparkling gentle inside me
And I want to write this feeling
So tentatively
As it must be
Like writing words on bubbles
Delicate and precious
Begging them not to disappear
Like dreams in the morning

                                        By Phil Roberts

I was looking for the suitcase
one of those work trips
Staying at a sterile Ramada
TV blaring through fiber walls

Down the hall a door slams on sleep
My heart leaps like a squirrel
onto a New Jersey highway at rush hour

So much for –  “Have a pleasant stay.”

I lay thinking about road-****
alive-- then incongruous –  dead

Awake, listening to trucks
log their roar of rush
Then, whine to the distance – away

Awake, till I can smell
perfume of the maid's cart
masking evidence of people

Awake, hearing
twitter of Spanish
Smallish women in turquoise uniforms
long dark ponytails
cleaning rooms
like stalls in a cattle barn
Their faces make me long for home
somewhere –  
I am always longing
and never seem to be....

Anyway, I was looking for that suitcase
Found her dolls lying on it
and wondered when they got there
A day when I was working, no doubt

She must've looked at them
decided they were lost
in silly-sleep
beneath the basketball poster
beside the boom box
Sleeping with her childhood
in the cellar where....
_

Spring comes like a longing –  
for a moment
for a home

They were darling there –  
yellow romper, plaid sun-suit –

Same clothes as the day –

They, last saw her play....