A bouquet of words


A handsome woman
I met on a dark night
we talked some
and we danced some
and I stared into
her winsome eyes

I am a poet I said
I can create words
from other words
Imitation is so
loathsome said she

But I make sense
from my sensibility
I spluttered in reply
vacuums are gruesome
and yet silence on
the occasion of love
is so wholesome
and betrayal
so infantile and
so tiresome

John Lyons


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s