The deep green
       of woodland ivy
embodiment
       of life and death
and the holly
       rich with red
winter berries
       and mistletoe
with its plump
       unctuous fruit
such significance
       within a universe
so alive with death
       as though each
were interchangeable
       in the glass

Her lips now pale
       with age
her song now silent
       now a thing
of the past
       We are voice
and we are memory
       but our voices
grow silent over time
       and our memories
fade beyond the sunset
       Love for today
for tomorrow
       it may be gone

John Lyons

An octet of magpies
       sitting high up
in a neighbour’s tree
       I say sitting
but in fact they keep
       jostling for position
perhaps to determine
       who plays first violin

At the rear of the garden
       the foxes are making their moves
overnight there was a light frost
       but it didn’t last

The foxes are lounging
       on the shed roof perhaps
recalling those long gone
       summer days
and their friendly skirmishes
       with the magpies

High winds are forecast
       but on this Christmas morning
there is a stillness
       a contemplative silence
and love in my heart
       love and peace

John Lyons

Corrected text!

Love with
       the innocence
of age
       a table
a candle
       a meal
hands joined
       a toast
raised
       a pleasure
taken
       together

John Lyons

Earth – rich
       mineral loam
out of which
       all roots feed.

Light and air.
       Deep seep
of clear waters.
       Seed of love
from which
       all life.

Her lips unsoiled
       her kiss –
a silence
       a benediction.

John Lyons

As the crow flies
       or the hawk
that all-consuming
       view of the world
noting the slightest
       alteration of detail –
how we map our lives
       And our relationships

There is in all of us
       a natural hunger
for love
       for acceptance
for the pleasure
       of being with another
or among others
      for the sharing
of full-fleshed
       feelings and emotions

John Lyons

One voice
And then another
Lifestories told
In their own words
From their own
Individual
Points of view

To know what another
Feels or means
This is a skill indeed
And to be able to express
Clearly what one feels
And what one means
This too is indeed a skill

One life
And then another
When paths cross
Or paths diverge
Or when two travel
Side by side
Bound by love

John Lyons

In this universe
forged from heat
there is frost
on the garden wall
ice where water
has frozen
here and there
in the gutters

and sometimes love
that blows hot and cold
the ebb and flow of passion
of desire too
and silence
not the absence of words
perhaps more than ever
mulled in the mind

a horde of magpies
on the lawn
Napoleon has landed
and the years
that seem to set
their own pace
one two three
and forever counting

the fox has seen me
walking down the alley
and is beating a retreat
snow has fallen
in parts of the country

Yesterday I shivered
and remembered my age
but shrugged it off
and went on my way
what the naked eye sees
what the naked mind
apprehends
One forgets
how many miles
how many words
how much love
makes a life

John Lyons