Grey and sodden clouds cry
From my north-western sky
Where I used to fly with satellites
Before I was stuck at traffic lights

I'm pretending that I'm sane
With a bandage around my brain
Pretending that I'm whole
With sutures in my soul

Tight and screaming reins
Hold the prophets in my veins
Aquarius turns again
Again and yet again

                                  By Phil Roberts

Like a moonbeam
Brighter than the Daystar,
I am blinded by
Woman in a soft
Midnight garden;

When the day kisses
The night,
The light is weeping.

I walk alone.

The soul with no
Absolution
Is an infinite impossible.
My throat caught
In a tearful choke,

The missing song
Under the sun
Is the Moon's tender
Presences.

Love escapes
Into a masked misunderstanding,
Another misunderstanding
Hides the Father in me
Under this misguided wing

I quiver under a fools blade,

I love like a child
Lost in a forgotten story,

Missing.

I remember seeing you in my dreams.

You were walking towards me in a field,
The bottom of your sun dress brushing over queen Anns Lace and yellow wild flowers.  

When you made to me you wrapped me in your arms.

I planted a kiss on your forehead.

I miss my dream.
And I miss you.

Sometimes when the sunset is stunning,
It reminds me of how much I want to watch it with you.

I miss you.

In the dead of winter.
When there's several feet of snow outside.

I sit in the kitchen,
Freshly made tea in front of me,
It's steam billowing upwards with the conviction that it matters.

The only thing missing is another cup of tea next to me and someone to sip on it with.

I miss you.