Weather
I can take
whatever
the weather
throws at me
it’s the least
of my worries
John Lyons
Month: Sep 2018
After the storm
After the storm
The optical illusion
of the rainbow
after the storm
where the sky
leans into the land
and all of us so generous
in our will to believe
that somewhere
beyond the horizon
lies more gold than
we could ever count
we who live and die
feeding on the air
that fills our lungs
Let the rains fall
they will not last
forever and light
always rules the day
My mind sits behind
the hollow of my eyes
and there the words
are formed that celebrate
life’s mysterious beauty
I count my days
just as I count my steps
they bring me closer
to you and to all
that I want
the time we spend together
a small fortune
John Lyons
Beyond the new moon
Beyond the new moon
Beyond the new moon
falling
oak leaves and acorns :
a child in her mother’s arms
smiled at me and beyond that smile
a life I will never see
As the sun rose
I heard pigeons calling
one to another
but not to me
Temperatures have dipped
not quite enough
to form a frost
but that will come too
and the long summer days
will be forgotten
We’re into the last
of blue September skies
and beyond these
who knows what winds
will blow
or when
I want to winter in the warmth
of her arms
out of harm’s way
These words
these falling leaves have left me
utterly defenceless
Words set in white space
in convivial silence
that’s poetry
that’s all I have
John Lyons
What goes around
What goes around
I was a child here
played here
gathered conkers
in the woods here
did battle with
my friends here
won so many games here
and ran across the fields
till I was blue
in the face
life is always as
it promises to be
unexpected
and the seasons
teach us inevitably
that what goes around
comes around
and so it does here
John Lyons
Ramping it up
Ramping it up
After a good night’s sleep
I wake slowly
creep into my day
one of light work
and gentle exercise
always watching my diet
weight loss being
the principle here
poets are no different
from anyone else
and keeping the body
in shape is essential
enough of this free verse
I want to have a figure
as tight as a sonnet
and as trim as a bird
John Lyons
Bermondsey dust
Bermondsey dust
Last night
a full fat
orange moon
low in the east
and today
a broad blue sky
and the leaves
slowly
being stripped
of their colour
autumn rust
but that moon
fat and generous
its face pocked
with craters
and age is nothing
is irrelevant
so much will
outlive me
why should I
worry
I have a roof
over my head
and somebody
loves me
tonight I shall
clean my shoes
and shake off
the dust that has settled
on the leather
Bermondsey dust
that is mingled
with the dust
of all those poets
that have gone
before me
John Lyons
Life purpose
Life purpose
The iron in my blood
from the mineral earth
and my iron will
that keeps me going
with mineral purpose
it’s a creative cosmos
and I intend
to play my part
under whatever stars
burn in the firmament
John Lyons
John Lyons
All the world
All the world
All from
the same earth
clay formed
in our image
and likeness
the willows
the swans
the geese waddling
by the river’s edge
the church where
actors are buried
in the yard
all from
the same stage
time-honoured
in the fading
tombstones
these too were lovers
were sons
and daughters
players all from
the same earth
the damp grass littered
with autumn leaves
all from
the same earth
John Lyons
There has been a church on this site since medieval times. It is situated near the site of The Theatre, England’s first purpose-built playhouse, built in Shoreditch in 1576, and is the burial place of several Elizabethan actors.
Roasting chestnuts
Roasting chestnuts
As I step off the bus
I notice on the verge
of the woods
the spiky cupules
swollen with fruit
hanging in abundance
on the sweet chestnut
and I remember
the days of picking
in other autumns
long long ago
the fields I crossed
as I made my way to school
my shoes damp with the dew
and later in the day
the nuts roasted
on the open coals
salted and shared
by the family
by the fireside
John Lyons
Spring cleaning
Spring cleaning
Last night the wind
so fierce
and rain lashing
at my windows
woke me
in the early hours
a storm from the west
shaking the trees
tearing at the leaves
and water seeping in
through the skylight
and this morning
the branches still
agitated waving
wildly and the birds
curiously silent
foxes gone to ground
a rehearsal
for harsher days to come
out with the old
a spring cleaning
held every autumn
to renew the face
of the earth
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 