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  • By Kevin Roberts


Listen to a recording of this poem here.

No longer light, but not yet dark,

We stand here in some space between

And listen to a meadow lark;

Last year she sang so sweet and keen

For us, Christine.

Here amid the fading flowers,

We think of things that shall not be.

Christine, can you recall the hours

When I was you and you were me

Beside the sea?

Above our heads, the soul of day

Moves softly through the autumn skies;

The earth gives up its green to grey,

And there before our stinging eyes,

It stirs and dies.

The crow plays in the golden grass

And grieves not at his final flight;

He knows that all good things must pass,

That darkness always follows light.

It seems he’s right.

Christine, you fall away from me

On this dour late autumn day

As fiery leaves forsake the tree,

Like eager seeds that drift away

In search of May.

Your fervent mouth looks different now,

The tongue less sweet, the lips less keen,

But press its heat against my brow…

Those lips, I think, have never been

So cold, Christine.

And now that autumn chills our breath,

The light that lit your loving eyes

Fades fast towards a silent death,

And dies now as the season dies,

With subtle sighs.

Go not as one whose steps would sever;

Christine, no shred of sorrow show.

As if farewell were not for-ever,

Go forth like snowflakes, soft and slow,

Like lovers go.

Without the tears that you weep,

And with a smile avert your face,

As though you’ve turned aside to sleep

And soon will wake to claim your place

In my embrace.

Your leaving shall not be the last;

Where e’er you look, there I will be.

And like fond phantoms from the past,

The wild winds that sweep the sea

Bring you to me.

And spectres of our summer showers

Shall dance on in my memory,

The promises of perfect hours,

When I was you and you were me,

Beside the sea.

Read more of Kevin Roberts' work in New Lyre

Kevin Nicholas Roberts (1969-2008) was a poet, college English Professor, author, husband to Jan and father to his angel dog Buddy. Kevin had two books published in the United Kingdom: Fatal Women, a collection of poetry and Quest for the Beloved: Awaking Truth & Beauty through Mystical Poetry, a book of literary criticism and philosophical discussion. Kevin was the founder and first editor of the poetry journal, Romantics Quarterly.


Michael R. Burch
Michael R. Burch

I feel confident when I say that the New Romantics, by consensus, considered Kevin Roberts the best of their tribe. These are poems I wrote for Kevin over the years:

Safe Harbor

by Michael R. Burch

for Kevin N. Roberts

The sea at night seems

an alembic of dreams—

the moans of the gulls,

the foghorns’ bawlings.

A century late

to be melancholy,

I watch the last shrimp boat as it steams

to safe harbor again.

In the twilight she gleams

with a festive light,

done with her trawlings,

ready to sleep . . .

Deep, deep, in delight

glide the creatures of night,

elusive and bright

as the poet’s dreams.

I wrote "Safe Harbor" in 2001 after a discussion…


Thank you for sharing these splendid poems, sir. I especially love “Ophelia.” They are a beautiful tribute to your friend. May he rest in peace.

- Shannon



I have long been an admirer of the work of Kevin Roberts - especially those poems that exhibit his preoccupation with the myth of the femme fatale, and his attempts to capture the nature of that elusive, eternal seductress in lyric verse that reminds one of the exquisite lyricism of Swinburne, Keats and Shelley. If I remember correctly, 'Christine' is the very first poem in Fatal Women, and possesses all the spellbinding musicality of that sublime collection. Well done, David, for featuring this rare gem of a poet once again!


Oh, you’re very welcome for the comment, Martin. Thank you so much for your thoughtful words of encouragement and your interest in my future literary endeavors. I appreciate it more than you know! My goal is to be published at The Chained Muse (as well as similar publications) someday. I actually submitted a piece here a few months ago. I do not know yet if it will be accepted or not. Even if it isn’t, I will definitely try again in the future after I write more poetry. In the event any of my work gets published here down the road, the full name that I go by is Shannon Winestone.

Thank you so much for sharing the link to…


Daniel Leach
Daniel Leach

Exquisite melancholy poem.


I also agree. The melancholic poems are often my favorites, especially when they possess a certain sublimity, as Roberts’ poems do.

- Shannon

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