We come as we please
And we leave on the breeze
Away........

Distance
As an image of warm blue air
The ***** man denies seditious writhings
Coming in proud bursts of creation
Irrespective of soil or culture
Bursting thirsting creation
Heathen fertility
Haphazard geography
Lust of life beyond life

Screaming gadgetry can cowards make
Tight cages can our spirits break
But love is broad and clean
Fickle and immortal
The soil from whence we came
Without permit or permission
With honour and with relish
The ***** man denies nothing
Not one word at all

And on and on
The fairground moves on
Away

                    By Phil Roberts

I want to paint a picture with words
So you can see what I see.
Let you see all of the art work
That hides here inside me.
The darks and the lights that glisten
I want to share colors and shapes
And the music, so you can listen.
They make up my internal landscape.

My canvas is time, sight and sound
And the aromas of my world.
I want you to see the way the smoke
And all the clouds get curled.
The hills and the valleys have views
That make you want to be there.
The trees and the flowers delight;
All inside my memories somewhere.

The stories would keep you transfixed,
And the people, creatures of fascination
Would make you laugh or maybe cry
If you could only see my imagination.
I am using rhyme and meter to depict
As the artist in me articulates dismay
That these simple words must transmit
As I can only tell you about it this way.

Give me life in easy doses
Pieces I can swallow
I could bear the contradiction
Living without sorrow

Mixing grit with poignancy
Keeping me wrought up inside
Not without a grain of salt
Repress what can be denied

Reframing to simplicity
Complexity loses clout
Reconstruction reaps benefits
Eliminating all doubt

Feeling my poetic license
I stopped correcting mistakes
Seeing no ambiguity
Nor courage to hit the brakes

Cleaving to Imagination
In denial I wallow
I can’t bear that contradiction
No joy without the sorrow

It happened fifty years ago
It’s yesterday to you
Holding onto dreams that seem
Never to come true

Seasons of Past so plague you
A long-playing Revival
Gathering an audience
Is key to your survival

A pattern of yesterdays
Mired in fear and shame
Staying insignificant
While projecting all the blame

Letting go is good for you
A cellular release
Down comes that wall Resentment
A chance to find some peace

An embryonic valve released
To play a different song
Soften your face, creating space
Held hard in your heart so long.