true

how to write true

Focus, edit, frame – Georgia O’Keeffe

http://www.jellyfishwhispers.com/2012/07/a-poem-by-pd-lyons.html

Jellyfish Whispers

A Poem by pd lyons

only august

crows

almost quiet

only feather sounds

rising

almost still

only slow

steady beating

as if horses

finally

taught themselves

to march in order

across the fields

almost green

only smoky

spiral dust

almost damp descending

mirage

as if insects

finally taught themselves

to sing

like falling rain

across midday

almost yawning

only august

 

 

pd lyons has been writing for a long time now and hopes to continue doing so for even longer. Work has appeared in many mags & zines through out the world. Has two collections of poetry published by Lapwing Press Belfast. For further info please visit pdlyons blog for poetry publishing info and new releases:
http://pdlyons.wordpress.com/

About the Editor

A.J. Huffman

A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida. She has previously published four collections of poetry: The Difference Between Shadows and Stars, Carrying Yesterday, Cognitive Distortion, and . . . And Other Such Nonsense. She has also published her work in national and international literary journals such as Avon Literary Intelligencer, Writer’s Gazette, and The Penwood Review. Find more about A.J. Huffman, including additional information and links to her work on faceboook and twitter.

photo by pd lyons

The Kent Lily

from Wanting To Be In The Old Tongue - by pd lyons

MAEVE’S LAMENT

Bound by chains of lowland vines,

Nourished only by the rain.

The red meat of my heart

Now chips and shards of stone

That even ravens cannot find.

I am most subtle now,

Unable to touch or to be touched,

Only smoky tendrils nimbly wrapped

Upon the memories of men;

A formless thing perceived by them

Only in their sleeping dreams.

Kept alive by hunger.

Eager to be embraced with flesh

And upon the bones of war - like men,

Answer with firm metal once again

The faithful ravens call.

Out of the west

Out of the west

Where is the storm that brings me breath

To let these lips of moss reveal

That charm which causes me to heal -

For when those birds recall my name,

Then will I be whole again.

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 from Wanting To Be In The Old Tongue

Copyright © 2011 PD Lyons

All rights reserved.

:

ISBN-13: 978-1466272996

ISBN-10: 1466272996

pdlyonspoet@yahoo.co.uk