For his gaze a white horse
My insides a little bit
Morose
For his hands precise
Shiver inducing
And mine
Gauche disguised.

For the return
In the dream palace
Never the more abiding
Alas, alas!
Anti-clock wise,
Survive the fragments
And the lies.

For my tears crimson
His, unspoken
Ghastly flow of abundant,
Turmoil when apart,
Swagger at ease,
Dies and behaves
Their fears.

For us alone, the devil
May rise
Burial sites
God may reclaim
Two souls in one heart
Separate.
But they will not
Forget.


--Eleanor

you have made it as a poet
- when the birds in the garden
ask for your autograph

The words that leave my lips
Shall disappear
Like breath in cold air
Going nowhere
Meaning nothing

These poems into which
We pour our hearts
Other than the smallest few
Shall be lost in endless cyber space
Like billions of trillions of others

The loves that we swear eternally
Can last no longer than lovers' lives
It shall be negated by death
Other than to an unknown
And unknowing energy

                                        By Phil Roberts