Out of the heart’s handbook

Disbelieve the poem
           that never stutters
that from the outset
           knows where it’s heading

Disbelieve the sense
           of certainty
about this and that
           the utter complacency
of words that never
           require to be unravelled

Disbelieve the poem
           that puts the moon
and the stars
           on the same page
where butterflies flutter
           and roses are red
and love is as straight
           as a die

Disbelieve the poem
           that gives all
it has to give
           at first glance
without a glimmer
           of seductive mystery

Turn instead to the oyster
           within its shell
that awaits you on a bed of ice
           with its natural pearls
that the eyes devour
           that the tongue covets
and the delicate
           silence of love that tugs
at the orchestral strings
           of the unbroken heart

John Lyons