Observation
The poem
and the rose
deserve
each other
John Lyons
The poem
and the rose
deserve
each other
John Lyons
Stillness
of the mind
subdued
the cult
of energy
a rose
contemplated
in all its glory
given the attention
it deserves
the gift of time
its beauty admired
leisurely
each gentle fold
of each petal
lovingly explored
the fragrant
silence
John Lyons
The beauty of life
lies in its fragility
the pleasures
that are fleeting
the fresh petals
on the rose
that will soon fall
and need to be
replaced : and love
that always needs
fresh words
and gestures
to keep it alive
so that no day
is ever the same
no moment
monotonous
and we live
in the expectation
of renewal
and reaffirmation
never tiring of what
touches the heart
and moves the soul
to joy as though for
the very first time
John Lyons
As I grow older
I live in fear
of repeating myself
my ideas
my words
and my errors
my mistakes :
time and again
I have taken
the same path
time and again
been blind
to the obvious
the rose may live
as an archetype
but we cannot :
a rose has nothing
to learn whereas
we have it all
to work out
a rose grows
in the light
we stumble
in the darkness
and some
and are better learners
and some never learn
and as I write these words
I fear yet again that I am
repeating myself
as I grow older
John Lyons
When a rose is spent
or has completed its bloom
and is beginning to wilt
it should be removed
This is done to keep roses
looking attractive
and it encourages more blooms
Deadheading tricks a rose bush
into focusing on budding
and flowering new roses
rather than expending energy
on dying roses or producing seeds
And remember what Gertrude said
a rose is a rose is a rose
don’t mess with the parameters
things are as they are
and their beauty is intrinsic
don’t mess with roses
and don’t mess with love
John Lyons
People may say
that beauty is abstract
that it is a concept
or a notion
a paragon or an ideal
an archetype
or a quintessence
a gold standard
by which to measure
But I say no
I have held beauty
in my arms
stroked the hair
caressed the flesh
felt the pulse
of warm blood
coursing through
her veins
looked deep
into her eyes
watched as
a red-rose blush
spread down
from her cheeks
over her neck
and across her breast
a beauty to be culled
time and time again
and again
John Lyons