Two pears on a plate
Two pears from a neighbour’s garden.
Picked last Tuesday, painted this Tuesday.
Eaten today with a slice of bacon
and melted goat’s cheese
and a drizzle of honey.
Simply delicious!
Dedicated to a kind reader in Nice!
Two pears from a neighbour’s garden.
Picked last Tuesday, painted this Tuesday.
Eaten today with a slice of bacon
and melted goat’s cheese
and a drizzle of honey.
Simply delicious!
After early morning rain
a short walk through the woods
summer on the cusp
the pitter patter of acorns
raining down
and then suddenly
the distinctive ra-ta-tat-tat
of a woodpecker :
its beak beating on the bark
in search of a grub
I gaze up at the dense green canopy
but cannot see a thing : pitter patter
ra-ta-tat-tat : pitter patter
ra-ta-tat-tat
John Lyons
After the early morning rain
a short walk
through the woods
on the cusp of autumn
and all around
acorns raining down
pitter patter pitter patter
pitter patter pitter patter
then all of a sudden
comes the distinctive
ra-ta-tat ra-ta-ta-tat
of a woodpecker :
its beak beating the bark
ra-ta-tat ra-ta-ta-tat
I gaze up
at the dense green foliage
but can’t see a thing
Ra-ta-tat ra-ta-ta-tat
ra-ta-tat ra-ta-ta-tat
pitter patter pitter patter
John Lyons
Year in year out
the apple tree
blossoms in spring
and by the end
of summer
its branches hang
heavy with fruit
Year in year out
autumn strips
the tree of its leaves
and thus it endures
the winter naked
and forlorn
its branches trembling
in the biting wind
But come spring. . .
John Lyons
A life played by ear
hark to what I say
wherever the feet lead us
we respond to words
or to the intimation of words
all things labeled
and described
catalogued
How the universe
longed for language
and for the relationships
it enables and fosters
the thoughts and dreams
and the acts of love
Our prayers fly up
our words remain
among the simplicities
of the rose
and the comfort
of lips touching
John Lyons
The image of a voice
how can that be ?
sound that conveys
sight or vice versa
Paradise
is a word mouthed
as is love :
lips that evolved
to enable the kiss
And the wagging tongue
loose within
the buccal cavity
fraught with danger
The weight of history
moving between
the two banks of the river
O how they’ve changed
over time
The rise and sink of life
and she marooned there
on the margins of that place
Mudflats when the tide recedes
A river pours into
its own mouth
and disappears
John Lyons
With immaculate
white wings
the swan thrashes
the river surface
at Henley
before regaining
its elegant poise
proud of the space
it occupies
in its succinct
universe
John Lyons
For a moment a swan
down by the river
at Henley
the unspoilt beauty
of immaculate white wings
and so it thrashes them
and in the process
throws up
a spray of water
before it settles
back down
and elegantly dips its bill
below the unsettled surface
as though to drink
or refresh
its throat
and as the sun sets
its regal poise
once more regained
it glides off upriver
to be lost forever
to my prying eye
John Lyons
“The test of poety is the range of pleasure it affords as sight, sound and intellection. This is its purpose as art.”
Louis Zukofsky, A Test of Poetry (1948)
It rained all night
and it’s raining still
and I’ve lost all sense
of summer
I look at the grass
and wonder
could it get any greener
Fruit hangs heavy
on the branches
but many trees
have already slipped
into autumn
and the birdsong
is thin and laconic
My face in the mirror
is pale
but undefeated
I will wait for you
down by the pier
as I always do
in the hope that today
you’ll show
John Lyons