WORSHIP SWANS NO LONGER
When you worship swans no longer
Will you find your way to me?
Smoke rising in a breathless voice
Winding between shade and sun
A dream begun on dew drops
Daring midday like a ghost
Vowing never to fly
From your embrace
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LITTLE SADIE
black velvet traveler
dark morning herald
solitary secrets kept
well behind green eyes
alluded only by such offerings
as left upon our doorstep shrine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
VIRGINIA, CO. CAVAN ’98
winter wash
sails on hemp rigging
places precious
this January sun.
strong wind, clear sailing,
a rising Tahitian blue,
fed by silver slips of memory
travelling on wings of fantasy
calling sea birds soar
above a mucky barking back yard dog.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
from Wanting To Be In The Old Tongue
poems of an Irish descent
by pd lyons
Copyright © 2011 PD Lyons
All rights reserved.
:
ISBN-10: 1466272996
pdlyonspoet@yahoo.co.uk
