I have loved you longer than time
Walked with you before I had legs
And told you many times
Without the mouth to speak
Or the air to breathe
I have loved you longer than space
Collected your dust before the stars
And felt you many times
Without the hands to hold
Or the fingers to touch

I loved you in the ocean
And swam between your knees
I loved you in the sky
In your kiss of gentle breeze
You knew my face
Before your eyes could see
You felt me
Before skin

I have loved you before mountains
And before rivers carved the rock
I loved your canyons
Your precipices
Your crevices
When there was no earth and no sun

I have loved you
Before I knew what love was

I woke up in a strange bed this morning. I woke up in a bed that belongs to someone else, a bed with a pillowcase that doesn't match the duvet and a bed that doesn't feel like home. I woke up in a strange bed, but the bed doesn't belong to a stranger. The bed belongs to a past lover. Her hair colour doesn't match her eyebrows, it's blue and her eyebrows are brown, but she feels like home. She holds my hand and it's like I'm holding onto an angel. She drives us around in her old beat up car and it feels like I'm finally free. She brushes her lips against mine and it feels natural, it feels good. Maybe, just maybe, this is what I deserve. It won't be long until her bed feels like home. It won't be long until you're gone.

Hello
It's me again
It's the early hours and I'm slightly drunk
And it's me again

He has the sins of his mind
Which keep him warm inside
Amidst the weary and the wasted
Such warmth keeps him alive

Restless
I've always been restless
I hate to move yet I can't sit still
Hours are endless

There is a thrush inside his head
An agony of wings
Panic beaten thrashing
A cage of singing things

Anxious
Still always anxious
Even though I've slowed right down
This edge is ageless

Laying low and watching
A million sub-plots hatching
Paranoid and paranormal
He scatters to survive

                                    By Phil Roberts

Naked as Spring
Several propositions,
Like life,
Offer themselves to you
And to the heart of you.
They make themselves available
As naked as the newborn Spring.

It's your choice.
Several propositions,
Like your life,
Become themselves of you
Or of the heart of you.
Some make themselves inevitable
And you believe it's your choice

And now a silence
A crushing roaring silence;
As those propositions,
Chances
Become fewer and fewer
And in the heart of you
Some things become inevitable
And this very loud silence

And now this silence,
This bruising numbing silence,
As these dispositions,
Attitudes
Become stiffer and stiffer
And in the head of you
These things that are inevitable
Are getting slower and slower

Those naked Springs ago,
All those propositions,
Your life
Fasten themselves to you
And to the heart of you
You're getting older and older
And you're as naked as a bone

                                 By Phil Roberts