Mornfull moon

Mornfull moon
a filigree of frost

upon the pane
streaked with tears

of melting ice
cold comfort

from a cold heart
Birds sing to me

for want of a better
the air clear and dry

silvered by the sunlight
So much promise in a day

life converging on life
all at such a pace

their song
is one of innocence

one of jubilation
The simple truths

we are schooled in
everywhere apparent

yellow and purple
and white crocuses

refuse to be beaten
to accept defeat

We live in a world
of wonderment

everything on course
to be as it should be

but for the loss
of love’s labour

John Lyons

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