I knew he was dying
I thought maybe a few weeks left
So still and so quiet
This man whose laugh made us all laugh
The man who always had ideas
Where to go, what to do for a laugh
Always a laugh
Sharer of adventures
Partner in crime
For thirty-six crazy years
Dying before my eyes and
Taking much of my life with him

He'd had a massive stroke a year earlier
They said he'd die then
But he defied them and recovered a lot
Proper conversations and learning to walk
Then they discovered that he had cancer
And here we were five weeks later
"How long are you gonna be in here?" I asked
He turned his head and looked hard at me
"I die next week," he said
As though he had an appointment

He got three days, not a week
I cried seeing him dying
But I was relieved for him when he did
Now my old friend is gone
And it's a duller world without him

                                       By Phil Roberts

On cloudless moonlit nights
When the world is silver and darkest blue
And silence seems to reign supreme
If you stretch your hearing inwards
You will hear the distant moans
Of long lost lonely dreams
Homeless and obsolete
Fading away
To become endless shadows

                                           By Phil Roberts

When your footsteps falter and slip
Hold on to me
If your eyes fill with tears
And the future seems blurred and distant
I'll be there to take your hand
You may not see me
But you'll feel me there
Right beside you
Always
So hold on to me

                        By Phil Roberts

imagine if everything was simple
we're all happy and living the life we desire
and we're all content with what we are given

and that satisfaction is genuine
nothing artificial or insubstantial
that's how we all wish life could be

maybe in another life, we would meet
maybe my hand would be in yours
maybe our hearts would belong to each other

if life was that simple, maybe we'd already know each other
maybe i would already mean something to you
but nothing is that easy

yet, i'm still happy with just the thought of you

I permanently imprinted
the image of you sleeping
to torture me on a good day
sweden filling out your lips
and long dark lashes rippling
back and forth, we have always
woken up mid-dawn when everything
is still soft and paisley blue, so I can't
remember you in any other way
than dark and lovely, the morning
light always spilling over you like
you were born to be in the daylight
with picks of orange in your eyes
just the way I like them, oak brown
like fresh soil, moss and maple tree sap
looking at me like i'm the only person
who will
ever
look
back.