Who are you?
Self professed creatures of the night.
Starving,longing,
Beg to the moon for something right.
What can you give?
Try as you might.
There is no fear,
Much,as creatures to the night.

I have this friend across the pond
As bright as clear-night stars
Intelligent and talented
And faster than souped up cars

But she has her flaws, alas
As all the best poets do
I know this to be a fact, of course
Who hasn't got one or two?

After all, it has to be said
Perfection is lack of character to me
So I'm keeping my eye on my talented friend
And watch as her mind flies free

                                                By Phil Roberts

There are loves that compare to none
Such as between Father and Son,
Who share for all eternity
A bond which undone cannot be.
For a Father there is no one
They can love as they do their Son,
Perhaps for in this precious boy
They see themselves from days gone by.

As men speak not of emotion
'Tis a love not oft of spoken.
For seldom the word love is said,
Many words and deeds used instead.
Though when Sons do Fathers become
They begin to understand some
Of the love Fathers have for Sons,
How their Son they love like no one.