Poetry ~ Waka
that innocent look,
puppy dog eyes luring
victims of his charm
that innocent look
they fall prey
his deceptive charm
puppy dog eyes wait
charm them in parks and beaches
false look of kindness
victims of his charm
sobbing victims betrayed,
look of pretense
© Tournesol ’15
This week, we are to do opposite meanings in our two formed sentences. RonavanWrites Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge “Charm & Look”
The week before Christmas was a busy time in la famille Lafleuré. Baking of tourtières with veal and moose, maple syrup doughnuts, apple pies, sugar and pecan pies. Pheasants were killed and cleaned for Christmas dinner. Grandmère Lafleur was busy making toffee candy for the children Christmas Eve when they would sit around the decorated tree telling stories of Noël long ago.
Children were excited and cleaning their rooms including under the bed since they were told le Père Noël did a survey in all childrens’ bedrooms to ensure they did all their chores.
Papa Lafleur had finished cleaning the fireplace and Christmas Eve afternoon, he went up on the roof of the house while the children were skating on the pond. They loved watching their father clean the chimney singing old ballads from long ago. Before coming down, he tied a long red velvet ribbon around the chimney. Tonight was the night Santa would visit from the north Pole.
C’est le temps des fêtes
les enfants crient de joie
l’arrivé du Père Noël
©Tournesol ’15
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.
© Tournesol’15/12/08
&
Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie
last days of autumn
holding on with every limb
resilience triumphs
© Tournesol ’15
last days of autumn
taking in final colours
imitating life
last days of autumn
crossing to the other side
between seasons
taking in final colours
hanging on to lifeless limbs,
Ah! those tawny leaves
imitating life
poinsettia on a gravesite
honouring the dead
©Tournesol ’15
******************
Inspired by Georgia’s breathtaking troiku
autumn reflections
as I cross the sun warmed bridge
geese fly south
autumn reflections
old man contemplates winter
under the hot sun
as I cross the sun warmed bridge
ducks laugh downstream
– diving for trout
geese fly south
the noisy swallows have gone
but the blackbird sings
Her mother was a sun worshiper and loved three seasons for the warmth of the sun; the budding flowers in spring, summer sun turning her skin golden and the lush colours of autumn. Winter was not her favourite season. She loved Christmas for her children and grandchildren; New Year’s Eve was a ritual to watch people celebrate at Time’s Square. No, winter was a season she could easily skip.
Every time family and friends phoned her in winter, she warned them to stay home and not drive on the slippery roads. Winter was a time to sleep and hibernate like a bear.
Winter starts to show off in late autumn here. By mid-November there have been a few snowfalls. That early Monday morning in December, her daughter phoned to check up on her mother’s failing health…it was time, the nurse said.
frost tipped branches
spreading fallen leaves,
bracing for a chill
© Tournesol ’15/12/02
Summer visits on these sacred grounds, loving friends and families rest in peace. Weeping willows adorn the gardens among the birch and evergreens like special spices turn her grandmother’s turkey stuffing outstanding.
© Clr’15
Today she visits her mother’s place of rest setting a poinsettia at the grave site. December 2nd will be one year since she left to join her step-father. Now they rest together, resuming their love story of yesteryear. The bare weeping willows and birch stand silent in respect for those who rest. The sun sets as she chants her mantra softly.
wispy willow weeps,
autumn sheds its leaves- yet,
naked beauty
© Tournesol’15
waiting room
a patch of sunlight
wears out the chairs
© Jane Reichhold
restless birds
flock safely before the storm
wildlife hide in wait
© Tourenesol’15/11/25
Inspired by Ese’s haiku at CDHK
inevitable
the dance of a falling leaf
with a snowflake
***************
first snowfall
finally
sorrows veiled
first snowfall
leaves,
grief to rest
finally
lifts weight of shadows
balance restored
veiled sorrows
giddiness of snowflakes
pretence of joy
© Tournesol ’15
Sitting at the picnic table near the chip wagon, she sprinkled vinegar and salt on her fries. Taking that first bite of her fry was delightful. Another bite and she winced at the slight burning sensation on her lip. Salt can do that but no matter how unhealthy they say it is, she could not go without salt on French fries.
She remembered when she was a child playing kick the can with friends in the summer. Her mom would call her in when it got dark and she was all sweaty. She loved the taste of salt on her arm.
chaleur torride
sueur luisante
goût d’été
sweltering heat
sweat glistens
taste of summer
They met on the beach. It felt so natural. They walked hand in hand as the sun was slowly dipping in the horizon. The tide was out. How delicious to feel the cool sand between their toes as they walked what seemed, forever.
taste of sunset,
waves roll in softly,
salt on her lips
© Tournesol ’15
Tournesol dans un Jardin 