A secluded family beach
set in a natural cove
and accessible only
by a series of steep steps
: there you bathed
and we lay on our towels
and lapped up
the unbroken sunshine
When lunch came
four sardines on a plate
and a bowl of French fries
which we ate overlooking
the immaculate ocean
: from sunrise to sunset
all that we had was what
we had within our hands
John Lyons
The Portuguese budião
or wrasse
is a curious thick-lipped fish
and an Atlantic loner –
all are born female
but over the years
many mutate to male
at which point they build
circular nests of algae
leaving open slits
where the female
lays its eggs
The English name comes
from the Cornish gwragh
a mouthful meaning old woman or hag
but lightly grilled
its mild white flesh
is a culinary delight
John Lyons
The hardness
and the softness
of love
Beauty is
difficult
words are
difficult
so too to
make sense
of our senses
born to tears
though joy
is our natural
element
should I ever
forget you
please remind
me
one kiss
is worth a field
of shimmering stars
my bones ache
for your embrace
be kind
John Lyons
These then are the people we are
we travel back and forth
to Funchal or to Machico
to Seixal or to Porto Moniz
we lie on sun-drenched beaches
and navigate the rocks and stones
we drink from plastic bottles
and climb steep rugged hills
with the agility of billy goats
we eat whatever the restaurants
push our way without complaint
we examine our consciences
by reading the old colonial histories
stamped on church walls and ceilings
After dark we count countless stars
and pay allegiance to a golden moon
sparrowhawks mewl in the night
and visit the ledges of our dreams
We are all the things we ever wanted to be
yet having travelled so far
still have so far to go
love and trust stroll hand in hand
through narrow dusty streets
love and trust lie in a single bed
love and trust bring new names
into the world and shield the dead
from permanent death
paradise we know can be clinched
with a kiss if the time is right
and good fortune comes our way
to keep growling hound dogs
and sacrificial gods at bay
John Lyons
Whether of peach or mango
we sat under shade
and sipped our smoothies
and beheld the day
filled with sunshine
and quiet words
amid snippets
of the life stories
we exchanged
Here there was silence
for the taking
and gentle steps of affection
as the truths one by one
were released
into the atmosphere
How two narratives
can become intertwined
so that a convergence of news
and consciousness occurs
just as our feet followed
for a few days
a shared path
At four in the afternoon
the sun at its fiercest
and sometimes we bathed
in the cerulean sea
and sometimes we lounged
or climbed steep hills
through narrow streets
lined with banana or fig trees
our heels kicking up the dust
of those long departed
and reaching our destination
we panted for breath
and gasped for water
like lovers whose energies
are sapped by the depth
of their endless entanglement
and at nightfall a dark sky
hovered above the land
and one by one the stars appeared
etching out an array
of unfathomable distances
so placing all our intimacies
into proportion underlining
the farness and the nearness
of unadulterated love
John Lyons
Volcanic rock
ground down by the sea
to so much bonemeal
the black sands of Seixal
a gentle sloping beach
on a Saturday worn down
by lackadaisical summertime
We are all here to go
and many have gone
before us
recycled into the cosmos
this place of constant birth
and death and birth again
From the same minerals
this congealed lava
and the supple tissues that beat
in my breast and the blood
that surges through my veins
The rising wind in her hair
the thin line of her lips
curled into a reticent smile
and so her hips sway
as she enters the waves
Venus in retreat
John Lyons
At dawn
I go down to the sea
drawn to its mystery
I listen to its silence
it too has mountains
deep and unknown
and when the wind rises
it has a dark voice
that grinds and gasps
as it gropes for the shore
At sunrise the light shimmers
across its surface
I see myself
in the glassy reflection
and listen to the ocean’s sighs
that appear to echo my own
Where was love
in all this meaningless motion
where was pity and passion
where were the words of soft speech
where were the palpable
signs of affection
where were the gestures
capable of defusing time
where were the keen kisses
to soothe my soul
where were the answers
to stem the cruel tide ?
Night falls
and a golden moon
gives way to blistering stars
bronze shadows stride
across the fragrant water
all is memory
all is loss
all is done
John Lyons
johnjosephlyons 