cool air caresses my
too warm body as
I stand at the
window

watching the play of
moonlight on
seawater

fruitbats and boobooks call
across the valley
out, foraging in the
night light I see them
sweep across the sky
shapes dark and sinister
against the dusting of star glitter

behind me man and cat curl
into tighter *****, seperated by
doona  mountains

I stand letting the breeze cool
my skin, and await the
next shadows rise and fall
upon the deepening darkness
of  the summer sky

I come to write whenever I need to let out.
Sometimes I feel so trapped in this chaotic world,
Constantly filling up and never pouring out.

I've dated a boy for two years.
He was to take away the pain of him.
He was suppose to be temporary.
A sweet man he evolved into; nothing like him.
He pursues me truly, not like him.
He is consistent, not like him.
He loves sweetly-never fighting & always patient, not like him.
He isn't dangerous. Not like him.

ive read about bad-boys.
My heart always craved for one.
Someone to take me away from the safe-zone I've always felt; someone different.
Perhaps that's why I fell so hard in love with "him" years ago.
Perhaps that's why I still find glimpses of the sadness from losing "him" on the lonely nights.

But then I look at the one my heart truly loves.
I've found that love isn't a feeling, as much as that bad boy in my adolescence made me feel.
To see a man choose me in every way.
To see a man be patient in waiting, in pursuing, and guarding my heart.
To see a man sacrifice his own desires for mine constantly.
To see a man believe in me.
To see a man provide.
To see a man who loves.
Is far more beautiful than the emotional confliction I called "love" in my younger years.

ive found a man who has truly taught me to love.
And for that, I am surrendering my past and pressing on to the future.
For I believe in a love, the kind I thought didn't exist, to continue breaking me, molding me, and changing me.
To love I owe it all.

One sees the moon, shedding a tear they must,
Another sees her and gets blind in lust.

There, I see the silhouette of a man,
Who's constricted in bandages and pain,
By misfortune of fate was overran,
While only embraced by the murky rain.
Once, his life was adorned with gleaming light,
Accompanied by his treasure and muse,
Who helped him with success throughout the night,
But is now for the golden-world no use.
He strolls the streets in utter confusion,
Something he was the master over once,
But this time he fell for that illusion
Who before provided luxuriance.
  Once the master-magician of the sweet,
  And now a hopeless madman on the street.

'“Music is one of the attributes of matter, into whatever forms
it may be organized”. - John Muir

A song bursts out as I wander
through a glaciered valley -
richly coutured
in the opulence of spring.

Verdant grasses and Aspen leaves
have shaken off winter's pallor
to join voices with evergreens
in praise of new life emerging
out of the glowing, spectral universe.

The love of a doe guides her fawns
to finest grazing and sweetest waters
as the vibrant sun above
affirms its life-giving covenant.

If I cared, I might lend labels
to flowers, trees, streams and grasses
but have recused myself -
for the season's majesty demands
that nature do all the singing
and I do all the listening.  

*© 2017 by Robert Charles Howard

Dark again
Darker than
Colourless sounds
From ceiling to walls
Always
Strange doors
Like gaping mouths
Dragging tears
Cracking open
Screams of silence

A day or night
Then comes the light
At long weary last
Ended future
Useless past
Nothing holds
Narrow roads
Damaged junction
There's a time
Comes the light
Follow the light

                          By Phil Roberts