POETRY

The stars dim down to gentle red

and my thoughts rock like the sea,

they nuture my soul and drift in my head

to a place where I am free.

A hand reaches out to turn a new page

and in the most comforting way,

worlds evolve from a world I can't solve

when I write all the things I can't say.

By Vanessa Phillips

AT THE END OF THE SPIT

I'm drawn in by the bang,

huge waves sweep towards the rock

on which I stand.

I can see, prempt it all but still

I'm drawn to it.

It's beautiful, it's powerful

it stings my face.

This explosion before me

is a metaphor for lifes chaotic pace.

Where I am isn't stable

but it's here I wish to stand

and witness it all

drawn in by the bang

at the end of the spit.

By Vanessa Phillips

SHOW ME THE VIEW

Take me up a mountain,

show me the view,

march me down and say

thats what you can't have

and I'll face for you.

All my life,

as long as I remember,

through all my victorys won,

all I've ever really loved

is all that's come undone.

In my room

it seems to me

too many things are found

memories I can't have,

can't live,

buried in the ground.

My room's sentimental-set-up,

it'll never turn grey

for a family together in my heart,

for a love that couldn't stay.

For the love that took me up a mountain

and showed me the view,

for the love that marched me down again,

nothing is more true.

By Vanessa Phillips