There is a time

There is a time for
           fresh strawberries
and dandelions on
           the lawn and swifts
and swallows darting
           back and forth
and a slight case
           of sunburn on my cheeks
and a stroll through
           the ornamental garden
when everything
           is in flower and you
are by my side
           and we are still in love :
I can’t wait
           for that time

John Lyons

Fruit of the flesh

Time itself is not change
           nor does wisdom
come with age :
           the fine powdery snow
blowing at our window
           will not settle
it will be gone tomorrow
           though today
we find ourselves
           landlocked
trapped within a moment
           within the taut dimensions
of our own making
           and with decisions
on the tip
           of the tongue

Last night not a peep
           from the foxes
snugly buried
           in their burrows
the quiet universe
           a soundstage
for our words
           stars falling
in icy fragments
           and always
the question of love
           fruit of the flesh
and what if anything
            we will make of it

John Lyons

Reposted from yesterday with corrections

Hope against hope

Yes I feel the cold
           on my cheeks
my feet are frozen
           inside my boots
and though wrapped up
           as well as I can be
I am still slightly
           shivering

But this winter weather
           will soon pass and these days
will be forgotten along with
           all the other days
we have forgotten
           even though there were
some we swore we would
           never forget

The snow lying thickly
           has simplified the landscape
reduced it to its essentials
           trees and houses and roads
and fields with here and there
           a hungry fox in a back garden

But the snow will soon melt
           and the earth once again
will be revealed in all its glory
           and therein lies my hope

John Lyons

Simplicities

Star-patterned snow
has fallen across the universe

through the dark night it fell
flake upon flake covering the land

and in its wake it has brought
peace and silence and for a time

a certain subdued solidarity
slowing as it always does

the frantic pace of life
the rushing to and fro

snow has fallen in the cities
and on the hills and in the woods

and has levelled parks and gardens
and all the wide playing fields

there is a lesson to be learnt
from the simplicities of snow

John Lyons

He who loved

He who loved
the soft-petalled rose

would bear the pain
of thorns to nurture them

would shelter them
in times of frost

would nourish the soil
in which they stood

and could sit for hours
in silent admiration

of their summer blooms :
he who loved

John Lyons