A farewell to words

A farewell to words

A farewell to words
           a farewell to descriptions
of seeing and hearing
           and feeling and knowing
and simply
           of being

In the farthest corner
           of the skylight a spider
was woven its web
           and the trap is set
for any unsuspecting flier
           : having retreated
the spider now eyes
           its artistry
from a concealed
           vantage point

Silence :
           a farewell to words
as day dissolves
           into night
and darkness gathers
           in the wings

A farewell to the rose
           to lush summer fruits
and the warm taste
           of beauty’s flesh
: a fond farewell
           to words

John Lyons

 

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A man’s particulars

A man’s particulars

A man’s particulars
           the story of his life
the steps taken
           the successes and failures
the loves won and lost
           his relationship with himself
and with others
           his stars and his blue moons
all that governed his progress
           or allowed him to run free
his nature vis-à-vis nature
           the promises made
and those unkept
           his struggle for self-expression
his words his words his words
           that built him up to be
whoever he wanted to be
           and the rain and the forests
the harsh climates he endured
           the roses he gathered
the fruit that he consumed
           the lips that he kissed
along the way and always
           the very fine dust he made

John Lyons

 

The passing storm

The passing storm

So the storm has passed
           leaving the streets
littered with dry leaves
           and other debris
fine dust and grit
           that swirls in the wind
and assaults the eyes
           so that we walk
with our heads bowed
           shielding our faces
from the unswerving
           onslaught

What can I say
           we are no longer
roasting by the beach
           paddling in the warm
Channel waters
           or watching children
as they ferry
           sand and water
from one place
           to another

Autumn approaches
           in the stealth
of shorter days
           and longer nights
the summer’s empire
           once more defeated
and it is time
           to feather the nest
the warm love nest
           in preparation for
the months to come
           when we will curl up
into our winter days and
           kiss the hours goodbye

John Lyons

Bounty’s return

Bounty’s return

Balmy summer nights
           when sleep eludes us
we toss and turn
           beneath the stars
praying for the return
           of cooler days
and cooler nights
           wishing the moment away

But these are moments
           sent to test our mettle
what thoughts what feelings
           rule our roost
what fervour drives
           our ambitions
what love keeps us
           alive

Everywhere the roses have faded
           their petals dry and drooping
their season past : dust awaits them
           but in our skies welcome clouds
will soon come and rains will fall
           and turn the land green once more
and restore us
           to our bounty

John Lyons

An ode to air

An ode to air

Air is not emptiness
           even when it is empty
of birds or planes
           or flying leaves
air is everywhere
           full of itself
here angels reside
           and pass among us
unnoticed
           angels of the sun
and moon soundlessly
           sightlessly present
air is breath
           and fresh life
and is there
           in every thought
and act of love
           it is the vehicle
for language
           its medium
and its measure
           and it shapes our world
clinging to the spangled
           topographies
of land and sea
           and life and death

John Lyons

 

Another lazy lyric

Another lazy lyric

Warm supple
starflesh

soft to my touch
sweet tasting

to my tongue
smooth

to the palms
of my hands

I hold her close
hear the breath

as it rushes
from the lungs

feel the pulse
of her body

against mine
her words

in my ears
I am all of her

she is all of me
we here we now

John Lyons

The nature of things

The nature of things

The nature of things
           as they are : silence
the true interior of the soul
           when all is at peace
when all is said and done
           it is the true nature
of the world
           stripped of the word

the heart beats in perfect harmony
           light builds over the sea
a gorgeous molten plain
           into which the moonlight
dips in the early hours
           while the innocent sleep
within their dreams or clasped
           within the arms of their love

John Lyons