I write free from
the pressure of praise
my words go
largely unnoticed

and my subject
is what I see and hear
and feel –

during the day
I count sparrows
and at night
the outer stars

and how we so
reveal ourselves
in our acts of love

Not for no reason
are the flowers
we bring
to our host’s table

soft-petalled beauty
that knows its place
that fills our lives
with guileless grace

So when I took your hand
it was to hold it forever
it was for our love to be
contentment’s face

John Lyons