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it makes a diamond a bauble
gold a metal  heavy
silver a shiny insignificance
pearls a nice sea thing
mountains climbable
the deepest valley
shallow
it makes temples another house
symbols unreadable
tomorrow livable
today ethereal
yesterday memorable
others invisible
her touch her kiss
the import
like salt used to be
more valuable than all the jewels
all the oil
all the wisdom of any three
she is my fountain
of youth
eternally
we make shake n bake
to magnify the whole thing
make it better and higher and more
wow
I went along
that's when I got hooked on
the feeling
the majesty the bangs
now I am down in a hole
looking up and
she is gone and the
thrill too
what the **** is it all
doing
to my brain my libido my life
I give up
I do nothing about the sunrise
It just happens
Like moments and days
On and on
There is a rhythm if not a theme
I do nothing about the theme

I did nothing to be born
It just happened
Like tides and moons
It was easy
I was there at the right time
All I had to do was be there

I know nothing about our fate
Though it exists
Like time and death
Always there
There is a fact if not an end
I know nothing about the end

THE END

                 By Phil Roberts
Misty words billow in the cold
Pluming from their mouths
Quiet swearing and first *** coughing
They walk close to hedgerows
Kicking the dew from the grass
As birds squabble over breakfast
And mushrooms are still socialising
They whistle the dogs to heel
All panting and wagging tails
Stirring the dawn damp air
For happy is the early dog
In these sumptuous fields

Now the business of dawn begins
Low sharp commands are uttered
Bringing the younger bounding learners
To a proper sense of purpose
And that high-toned cross breed
The sleek and swift lurcher
Is eternally proud and primed
This long-sprint racer
Takes inevitable chase
Without sentiment or concious cruelty
An ancient craft is practised here
With the dogs at dawn

                                By Phil Roberts
just a leaf left
on the pillow next to me
now, a whisper of smoke
vapor tracing your path

out the door
going back to the
limb I stole you from,
the place you must return

I rake my bed for more,
try to make
a place
for you to fall

again, next time.
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