nature’s symphony (Tale & Troiku)

We are asked to form a haibun by adding a haiku to our host’s beautiful narrative; after writing one haiku, the image and moment had more to say so I wrote a troiku instead to be true to the experience I had reading this narrative. Shall I call this Tale & Troiku? or Traibun? Perhaps our host can help me with this for I find myself writing a troiku with a narrative more often than naught.

A walk through the forest on a summer day. Birds are praising their Creator with their fragile voices. A warm breeze caresses the leaves, bringing them to a higher level of consciousness. Their rustling makes you relaxed and one with nature. Far away sounds of traffic making your experience even better. Then you walk onto a bright sunny spot in the heart of the forest, a plain spot of grass mixed with all kinds of colorful (field) flowers and there in the middle of that spot, you find a crystal clear pool with the most beautiful colored water-lilies. As you walk closer to the crystal clear pool you see a pair of deer. “Wow”, you think. “What a surprise”.© Chèvrefeuille

my morning mantra
echoes midst nature’s splendour
a doe beams

my morning mantra
chanting in the forest green
birds accompany

echoes in nature’s spendour
soft ripples on the water
a symphony

a doe beams
genuflects on spindled knees
a tear on my cheek

Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie

dancing by the lake (haibun)

When she was a young teen she would sit behind the wooden stage propped up near Lake Champlain at Isle le Motte, Vermont. Every Saturday, the owners of the campground would play fifty’s music. It was 1965 and she would sit with her older sister and they would watch their parents dance. Her mother was 5ft 2-3/4” and her father was 5ft 11”. They would sweep the floor with their soft feet floating on that wooden stage. Her mom on her tip toes swooning at the love her life. Her father with his charismatic smile. They danced like Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire…only her father was much more handsome.

bodies touching
heat of a summer’s night
under moonlit sky

Written for Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie

visions (haiku)

5/7/5

butterflies flutter
sunflowers and rainbows – just,
dreaming of summer

3/5/3

daisies slide
on golden hills – yet,
in my dreams

a lotus
swells on golden pond
heaven’s grace

©Tournesol’16/02/05

Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille

snowflakes on his tongue
makes her quiver
licking white doilies

Although the cold is often avoided, once she gets her warm clothes to weather these frigid temperatures, she finds pleasure walking on fresh fallen snow. Watching the skaters on the new rink the city put up next to her work is sheer delight. Early evening, youngsters are playing hockey and late evening, older couples are skating hand in hand. It brings her back in time, long ago watching her uncle skating on the river under a full moon with is girlfriend. How corny of her to ask if she could tag along but, hey, they accepted, and she thinks the deal breaker for her uncle was that his niece accept this lovely new femme fatal. And boy was she beautiful with her natural blond hair and liquid blue eyes. (sigh) Her heart goes pitter patter remembering those days, long ago when she believed in love and a prince charming.

Skating, tobogganing, snow shoeing up Mont Rougemont, cross-country skiing on Mount Bruno take up so much time that by mid-March it`s a shock that spring is already around the corner. So much fun in a season commonly known for cold weather and shut-ins, well, not this year. Romance trickles over onto another season where relationships blossom with the scent of amour!

stroll among maple trees
feeling each other’s heartbeat
sap trickles promise

©Tournesol ’16/01/15

(232 words)

Prompt challenge with Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie:

We are to write a haibun inspired on the proverb “time flies if you have fun”. And (of course) here are a few restrictions to it. Here they are:

1. start with a haiku and end with a haiku
2. try to place your haibun (and the haiku) in one of the four seasons, you may choose the season yourself
3. your haibun may have a maximum of 250 words, including the haiku.

winter fair (haiga – daily moments Jan 9 2016)

snow brushed trees
silent winter street fair
frost tipped pines

Daily Moments

winter interlude (haibun – daily moments)

Consistency breeds comfort. It feels familiar when repeated at the same time over and over, like a mother’s lullaby soothing her baby. After the first snowstorm of the season, nature seems to produce a steady snowfall every other day…sometimes a heavy flurry that often tapers to a slow constant flutter.

She hears a humming in the middle of the night a drone that calms her back to sleep. Bu,t this morning she awakens just before sunrise and watches the snow fall gently. It’s a light snow at first …just enough to veil the outlines of the droning machinery outside her window.

She looks at the trees, fitted with sweaters of pure white and the cedars hide bashfully under stoles of pure fresh powder.

It’s Sunday morning and the sun is rising somewhere in the east far above snow clouds. The sky is a pearly grey, not threatening in the least but rather like a dome hovering over her home. It feels like a shower of white poppies…nature suggesting Sabbath’s day of rest.

She hears another snowplough clearing a shopping centre’s lot across the street; those eager patrons will be checking the last day of Boxing Day week hoping to find another deal, the right size, and right colour… the real deal! If not, they’ll just sit in the mall with a Laura Secord ice cream cone and watch the tired faces of adults being pulled by their offspring s chanting, “Just one more, just one more!” Comfortable armchairs are strategically placed in the centre hallway of the mall where tired fathers and husbands wait patiently and people watch.

A smug smile forms on her lips as she relishes the warmth and calm of her home, not inclined in the least to go out unless she needs something. She sighs, relieved at the thought of not having to brush half a foot of snow off the hood of a car and scrape the windows of melted snow turned to ice and sits back relishing the sound of her furry friend purr.

arresting snow – falls,
manmade humming stills,
settles on a branch

Daily Moments of January 3, 2016

Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MLMM

traces (troiku)

taoraruru hito ni kaoru ya ume no hana

the flowering branch of the plum
gives its scent
to him who broke it off

************

frail and broken
trace of plum blossoms linger
on his fingers

frail and broken
during winter’s slumber
waiting to heal

trace of plum blossoms linger
now and forever
their first love

on his fingers
only an illusion
scent of her shampoo

Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie

Indian Summer (haibun)

©Clr`15/12/08

Fallen leaves carpet grounds in ambers, except for those that hold on limbs for dear life. Parks are barren, missing squeals of youths and laughter among families. Park benches are abandoned by lovers, both young and old. Autumn’s melancholy mushrooms over time as winds blow mockingly. Suddenly, temperatures rise to unseasonal heights with warmer days, oh! so short-lived, teasing all things living.

Indian Summer squats
basking under sun kissed skies
Mother Nature lies.

Six Sentence Stories “lie”

Six Sentence Stories at Unchartedblogdotorg

Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie

First day of spring (haibun)

The prompt last Wednesday is a lovely narrative of spring and why our host, Chèvrefeuille loves this season. I, too, love this time year, filled with fresh new beginnings. The promise of life, rebirth, flowers blossoming, birds nestling and nature finally coming alive after a long peaceful rest.

Our host wrote this haibun on the first day of spring. There is still snow on the ground here in Québec, end of March with a few risks of snow storms. What gives one hope is seeing those tulip bulbs that were planted in the fall, burgeoning in March and April. Well, unless of course a rabbit or squirrel munched on the bulbs during the winter. One must plant double the amount to make sure a floral harvest. My favourites are red tulips.

one tulip stretches
budding red peaks through white quilts
first day of spring

first day of spring
sleeping beauty awakens
blushing promise