I prefer winter because the cold air reassures me,
the way it caresses my skin and holds me,
until ripples appear on the surface of my trust,
I know not to give in to it's cool, light touch.

It’s somewhere in the astral plane
The dwellers there don’t call it by name
The basin is dusty, desolate
Within it a carnival
Where many congregate
Light is dimming when I arrive
I feel an approach
Turn to look, as you appear
I’ve known you
From an earlier time
Yet never seen you
In this life
You’ve arrived there
To bind into my eyes
And take soul prints
Never breaking my stare

Indeed I loved her, I’d write to tell,
Hoping she would notice how to her I am kin,
She’d enjoy, then read, then see my hell,
Would see it, then pity, and her heart I would win.

I searched for things to scream and yell,
Watched other’s works, to see her smile in
Light of other’s lines, to tap the well,
Which cool water flows, to quench my thirst again.

But the spring doth run dry, I wanted more of
Other’s beautifully crafted works, though none
Of mine would cause her heart to flutter like a dove.

I had nothing to my work, I was, and wasn’t, done.
But the heart spoke to me and sang its sweet song,
“If you force feelings of love, they’ll all spill forth wrong”.

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