Hello
It's me again
It's the early hours and I'm slightly drunk
And it's me again

He has the sins of his mind
Which keep him warm inside
Amidst the weary and the wasted
Such warmth keeps him alive

Restless
I've always been restless
I hate to move yet I can't sit still
Hours are endless

There is a thrush inside his head
An agony of wings
Panic beaten thrashing
A cage of singing things

Anxious
Still always anxious
Even though I've slowed right down
This edge is ageless

Laying low and watching
A million sub-plots hatching
Paranoid and paranormal
He scatters to survive

                                     By Phil Roberts

In the depths
      of life's chaos
there is hope-
     a light of salvation
to pursue.

Joy,
     in a fleeting glimpse,
but a small moment
     of tender peace,

Calms
    the restless
          eternity.

"where night is...the swallows return or a hut near a lake"

in the castle of our love,
windswept fortress of
ashen grey, where the
four poster bed rests
on wooden floorboards
and the windows have
no glass,
roses wind around our
bed and their petals
blush against the oak,
and our dreams press
to our lips,
i can believe that
romance and passion
will sweep us, breathless,
to paradise, that this
glowing happiness was
a promise we'd never
betray, as your arms
fold me in the morning
of the dusk, my limbs
stretched out and your
slinky legs wrapped
around mine. red rose
of me in the ashes, red
rose of you sinking
into the night.

Now I am tranquil-
ized with the low light
of a fairly good star
planted serenely
in my Atlantic
and out there where
a lonely gull cries
dipping a wing
to the sea singing
a sleepy lullaby
in a language that Vargas
and I know so well
so, goodnight my angels
tomorrow will bring us
something akin to
a new day we can say
in one voice, Hallelujah
I am alive.

When life feels suspended by a delicate thread
Change is inevitable
I sometimes feel stifled
Tightly constricted
Like a chrysalis
Struggling against transformation
I oppose the transition
And need more time to adapt
Today
A butterfly tapped against my window
Like change asking to come in
If I can comply with Grace
Maybe I too can transcend
And withstand the butterfly effect

When I can't sleep at night
Do you know what I do?
I lay in my bed
and I think about you.
I think of funny moments
and moments that were sad,
times where you comforted me,
and times where we held hands.
Because when I think of you,
I feel the most comforting warmth inside.
You calm the rushing waves,
and create a perfect tide.