What might they say of us :
that our days were numbered
that we counted our steps
in Ramsgate Hastings Brighton Deal
and the minutes the hours the days
when love was so precious
and time was no impediment
They’ll say that we took much pleasure
together and saw and heard and shared
so much side by side that we seemed
necessarily inseparable
until the bitter end
What will they say of us :
that our days were numbered
that we counted our steps
in Oxford Cambridge Somerset Bath
and the minutes the hours the days
when love was so precious
and time was no impediment
They’ll say that we took much pleasure
together and saw and heard and did
so much side by side that we seemed
inseparable until the bitter end
John Lyons
Here is the place
where the stone fell
silent as the grave
Here love died
along with the music
and the laughter
and was laid to rest
No longer legible
the letters carved
in sandstone
all flaking
all gone to dust
The once living
body of love
gone to dust
every sweet kiss
gone to dust
all time to dust
John Lyons
Blood thicker than
the waters we crossed
to get to Shoreditch
or to St Katharine’s Dock
past Traitor’s Gate
along Kingsland Road
to eat at Vietnam
duck on a platter
and mango salad
the stuff of memories
and wondering now
what it all meant
and why it was
so soon forgotten
a mystery written
in our dust
John Lyons
What will they say of us ?
that their days were numbered
that they counted their steps
in Paris Venice Berlin Budapest
and the minutes the hours the days
when love was so precious
and time was no impediment
They will say that much pleasure
was taken together and that so much
was seen and heard and done
side by side that they seemed
inseparable until the bitter end
John Lyons
Where she sat
she sits
at the window seat
watching the world
as it passes by
Time age
and all that is
immaterial
have not tempered
her beauty
But she ponders
the riddle of her life
Petals fall
from the white orchid
they litter the floor
A life lived daringly
on the shores of the ocean
or by swift flowing rivers
with much sunlight
with much moon
many stars
She sits and ponders
the mystery of love
what it means to have
and to hold
till death do
and why are love’s laws
so severe
when the flesh is weak
and a kiss is just a kiss
why must she
remember this ?
John Lyons
These stars have followed me
all my life and last night
in the black sky they shone
brighter than ever
Strange how they bring
such comfort just knowing
that they are there
and all our origins are secure
Love comes from those stars
the binding of atoms
of bodies and souls
and all life driven
by their energy
which is why our hearts
are warm
when they are loving
Nothing much has changed
in the ancient woodland
by the railway track :
thousands of years
marked by the rise and fall
of the same vegetation— trees mostly
and it was here
in a small maternity unit
set in a clearing
that I came into the world
my origins pieced together
from fragments of universe
and all the time
through all these years
I’ve yearned to live a life
of the purest simplicity
to know and live love
in its infinite felicity
John Lyons
That is to say
that the sky is blue
with just a few
high clouds
and barely
a breath of wind
As fine a day
as you could hope for
at this time of year
A birthday approaches
but plans have been
cancelled
There is no appetite
for celebration
but this mood will pass
as all things pass
One should not allow
the emotions to gain
the upper hand :
the love of words
can be a betrayal
when things are said
for effect and do not come
from the heart
Let us remind ourselves
that words are not love
and poetry has no responsibility
other than to itself
John Lyons
As Charles said
we learn the simplest things
last
It’s undone business
always
too late to complete
or no time
for a second attempt
This time
we say
I’ll get it right
I’ll master the art
of living
the trade and the trade-offs
I refer of course
to matters of the heart
I’ve kept a checklist
of my mistakes
of false assumptions
or inaccurate evidence
promising myself that this time
I’ll succeed
and not fail or fall
for the same half-truths
or fantasies or illusions
I’ll shoot straight
and hit my target
my probing will go deeper
once bitten
twice
this time I won’t shy away
I say
my weather-eye will be fixed
on the wind
as it winds its way across
the wide waters
John Lyons
Revised
Where it is cool
where the air is crisp
my breath exhaled
in a mist that goes
before me
Where it is as though
the first day of a new life
a new arena
hearing things
for the first time
seeing things as though
for the first time
the birds with a new
repertoire
the squirrels
ever more defiant
as they leap
from tree to tree
I hear the rustle of leaves
see the branches
swaying gently
as the weight is released
and in the pond
the fish idle
lurking beneath the lily pads
Every day is a good day
for them when there is food for all
and on the surface
my shadow floats gently
and I am a mystery
I wonder what the fish
make of the stars
in the dark nights
or of the moonlight
that shimmers above them
they have their mysteries too
but how pleasant
to be without doctrine
to be free of the fixed mind
that is the root of all evil
In this pond
perhaps foxes come
in the early hours to drink
in the peace and quiet
I wonder what they make
of the flowers
or do they notice the roses
withered on the stems
or the disarray caused by
the sharp autumn winds
pots overturned
and debris strewn
across the lawn
I know that ice
is expected any day now :
at my time in life
I have learnt to expect
everything and it rarely fails
The marvel is
that anything lasts
but it does
sometimes even love
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 