As I bask in the aftermath of our love
the first tendrils of doubt insinuate my thoughts
so recently filled with elation

Ever subtly
they take hold of my heart
and wrest it from its safe harbor
in the warmth of your arms

Where only moments before....
I rested
safe, secure, and serene
released from the cares of my day
if only fleetingly

Where only moments before....
I could not have been more content

So fragile are these feelings
yet so strong is my love for you

The strength of emotion overpowers all reason
and leaves me awestruck
unbelieving
that I could soar to such heights

And as I stand on the pinnacle of my wonder
I falter….
My breath catches sharply in my chest
when I see how far I might fall
compelling me to ask….

*But do you still love me?

I saw a small boy with his mother today….
                Bright-eyed and Rosy
                   Playful to intently Curious

            I saw a mother with her small child today….
                Glowing in her love
                   Laughing to intently Vigilant

             For a few Stolen Moments….
                 I was that Mother
                    you were that little Boy
                     and their Joy was Ours.

             Now the Bond has Shifted….
                 and I am the one clinging tightly to your hand
                    holding on to the memory of a time
                        *when I was your world and you were mine.

Amid the rubble of crumbling concrete
a seed
unwittingly sown
sends its tender shoots
pushing toward love’s light.

Ever so gently
but with iron purpose
does it break up the stones of a hardening heart
on a journey to greet the sun.

Fragile roots probe the source of being
to draw nourishment from wellsprings
that lie hidden from self awareness.

Until finally....
a single triumphant bud
unfurls its petals in full beauty
to herald a new season.

The first sign of spring has arrived
after the fruitless winter of my selfish youth…..

My daughter
My wildflower!

Things get broken
Hearts
Minds
It's no-one's fault
It never is
Not really
Butter fingers and distraction
Without malice or forethought
Things
Like hearts and minds
Slip
And shatter on hard contact with reality

                                       By Phil Roberts

Neither bought nor sold
More precious than gold

Flowing endlessly on
And as suddenly gone

Choose wisely how spent
Neither borrowed nor lent

Be it idled or wasted
Lost or well tasted

Never reused nor saved
It has all men enslaved

Whether ill or in health
In poverty or wealth

Whether kindly or mean
Laborer or queen

Time bows to no master
Seems to run ever faster

As mortals grow old
Their tales oft untold

Yet Time etches fastly
In memory everlasting

Each life is immortal
In Time’s hidden portal

Salted sweetness and sticky smoothness are sensations
that fill my mouth with memories of
briny beaches on a summer’s day
and muddy little hands, gripping a sandwich
while teeter-tottering with elated abandon.