Old eyeglasses on wetland.
Deep footmarks in cold sand.
Green tide takes all.
LazharBouazzi, January 11, 2017

The day of love
is at hand as I
await your
pending arrival
I arm myself with
one dozen of the
finest red
long stem roses
Selecting one to
purge the bulb of
all peddles
I line the pathway
with red silky markers
leading you
towards the bedroom
Peddles of a Rose
placed strategically
to peak curiosity
Intrigued you are
and the anticipation
of what is to follow
empowers my plan
I visually undress you
as you take notice of
my eyes loving you
Without a touch or
verbal command
to slowly undress
yourself with desire
in your eyes
Your nakedness
fully engaged
you spread your
frame across the bed
and the oil massage
ensues with
silky red peddles
gently gliding upon
your glistening body
You moan in
sheer pleasure
which continues
until need me to be
the man you require.

The sun loomed young through the ribs of the Punic Port
Bringing back his turquoise splendor to the Med-Sea;
And Seagull, who in his morning flight did escort
The golden loaf of bread fishermen longed to see,
Soared higher and higher over the glazing port,
Preparing for the long voyage when the time be.

Expectant and white was the Carthaginian knight,
Oblivious of the blue peril; no long flight
Would scare him, no azure thirst would he have to fight.
Only the phantasm of an alien skylark,
who would despoil the timer of the golden sun &
peck out her "off" button  with his accent mark -
Would make him soar & sing in his vision of bravery.

(c)LazharBouazzi

On my profile is a picture
Of a place I used to go fishing
I would sit there for hours
Staring at the brightly painted tip
of my carefully balanced float
Watching for tell-tale signs
Of greedy little fishes
Which were caught and returned
Without much harm to them

This place was a wide part
Of the local stretch of canal
There so barges could turn 'round
And, obviously, known as the wide
Other than in the minds of kids
Who called it "Dead Man's Cove"
Although, in living memory
No-one had died there at all

Many pleasant hours I spent there
Sometimes chatting to other anglers
Or the occasional passers-by
Some would be walking their dogs
And some just stretching their legs
"Having any luck, mate?" they'd ask
"Not bad," I'd reply with a smile
And, do you know, I never noticed
The beauty that was there all the while

                                                     By Phil Roberts

adrift in an endless sea
of doubt and uncertainty--
but I know the day will come
when somehow
i will once again
find me.

Like the Ocean's Tide
The roller-coaster ride of life
A bitter pill to swallow

when you know too much
When you feel too much
When you Love
.........too much
When you care too much,
you get hurt too much

Vast the Ocean, Deep and Dark
It's mysteries so beguiling
As if the fates have conspired
To a wailing call of the sirens

The evoking chants of the night's air
The eerie howls of the dark wolves
Like the ocean's unending seasons,
So is life's endless tussles

Boundless the ocean's depths
Far and wide
Boundless the ocean far and near....
And blue the waters, blue as tears.

Our thoughts are like an ocean.
For they make up most of who we are.
They can be very deep and vast,
And impossible to completely explore.
Sometimes you must tread lightly.
Watch what you do and think.
For there is the occasional drop off.
And with just one wrong step; you might sink.
Though sometimes it may seem scary,
Swimming in the dark and unknown...
It can also be quite beautiful,
With all that life, you don't feel so alone.
There is so many wondrous things,
Going on in our minds.
If we all just choose to open up a bit more,
Who knows what unique things we might find?

A loners trail is slowly washed away ,
yet sometimes even the private have their
holiday
Bare feet covered in warm sand , dressed
for sheer comfort , walking the edge of
blue ocean with no place to be
Picturesque sea , gathering gulls , sailing brown
pelicans , forever horizon , white sugar revelry
Clarity returning in waves , morning cloud canopies
corrected in brash , cresting sunshine

Be strong, oh weathered anchor
Of a mind adrift at sea
Hold firm this home on murky depths
As familiar waves lap hungrily

Cry not, oh weathered anchor
Of a mind adrift at sea
As glimpses of a life once known
Ebbs and morphs deviously

Fear not, oh weathered anchor
Of a mind adrift at sea
The fight to grasp what once was known
Tattered image drips menacingly

Let go, dear weathered anchor
Of this mind adrift at sea
Slip gently asunder the past now lost
Unbound from memories, floating free.