When I was still young and fresh
A million years ago
I walked on edges
Always on the edge of something
Something wild

Bright lights and long nights
Lots of laughter and music
Always music
Singing with the band
Dodging the flying glass
When fights broke out
Howling to the moon
Oh, wild indeed were we

All shadows now, alas
Visions from an addled brain
Pubs, clubs and smoky dumps
Leave no turn unstoned was the cry
More fun than fundamental
And fundamentally flawed, it was
A couple of hours sleep 'fore the day job
With eye-lids stuck together
And walking into walls
But still I wouldn't have swapped it
For all the strait laced straight faced
Wealth in the world

                                 By Phil Roberts

I, the poet wears many hats to adorn self at any given time.

Musician, orchestrating with instrument of pen, expressive words upon page.

Artist, painting with beautiful colorful jargon, to open eyes and hearts inside grace.

Gardener, planting seeds of thoughts for them to bloom inside readers mind.

Chief, dishing out many a line, filled with delicious words to tantalize reader.

Landscaper, constructing scenery as beautiful as a mountain, or deep as an ocean.

Sculptor, molding craft of words sometimes soft and light, other times sharp as steel.

Teacher, enlightening one with information to open their consciousness if they choose.

Sailor, guiding ship-like eyes across a sea of words to move into calm waters for peace.

Laborer, picking just the right phase, to get a fresh new perspective inside a poem.

Singer, using one's rhythmic voice to echo inside vibrations of a sonnet that goes viral.

Doctor,  becoming a wordologist aiding the reader to receive insight to help them heal.

Secretary, to self who writes and transcribes many an ode so reader and poet has peace.

I, poet has a wardrobe quite extensive to pull from, on a creative journey of sharing.

StarBG © 2017

You are everything to me-
right now,
don't you know?

Because you are -
my poetry.

Ma Cherie © 2017