day’s end in glory
last show in living colour
duck quacks delight
© Tournesol ’16/04/29
Written for, Bastet’s Monday Haiga.
nature’s last performance (haiga)
Category: Poetry
melodies of you (shadorma + troiku)
At Carpe Diem Haiku Kai, we were asked to write a shadorma on “fantasy” and I chose to write about an imagery ending with a troiku.
(shadorma)
month of May
makes me reminisce
Mother’s Day
without you
is never ever the same,
but – now I’m Nana!
tunes play in my head
with eyes closed,
you’re right here
Judy Garland is Somewhere
‘Over the Rainbow
your voice seems so real
imageries of long ago
melodies of you
your voice seems so real
your laugh echoes
warms my heart
imageries of long ago
I’m still
ton bébé
melodies of you
Irish Eyes and Edelweiss
make me smile
© Tournesol’16/04/28
X is for Xeranthemum (haibun)
Running in open fields, they skip and giggle trying to play tag. Suddenly the young girls stop to pick some flowers.
soft petals drop
Xeranthemums
one by one
-he loves me,
he loves me not
© Tournesol ’16/04/28
awakens (haiku)
Skilful tease
stirs her ardent needs
butterfly kiss
budding heart,
responds to silken strokes
with heavy sighs
such reveries
throughout the night – and,
quickened gasps
pulsating
painting rosy cheeks
radiant
awakens in shortened breaths
ah, such momentary bliss!
© Tournesol ’15 (originally written April 2015)
wakens to the touch,
runs a finger on the curve
of her lips
© Tournesol ’16/04/27
W is for waves (troiku)
like a tidal wave
beaching on her broken heart
grief
like a tidal wave
taste of rumbling waves
salty tears
beaching on her broken heart
life comes to a stop
filling all the cracks
salty tears
dry and caked upon her cheek
remains of her loss
© Tournesol ’16/04/27
Blogging from A to Z
Troiku is a form of haiku created by Chèvrefeuille at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai
une seule plume (troibun)
Walking to work on avenue de Gaspé, she looks at the trees just starting to bud. A seagull screeches overhead. She smiles and wonders if he is announcing to his buddies of some overturned garbage can.
one lone feather
on this city street
where’s the white dove?
one lone feather
message from above
dearly departed
on this city street
searching for leftovers
doves and gulls
where`s the white dove?
Maman, es-tu vraiment là?
ma belle, Colombe
© Tournesol’16/04/27
This is a troiku, created by Chèvrefeuille, with a narrative, I now call a Troibun.
Translations:
Title: one lone feather
Mother, are you really there?
Colombe, my departed mother’s name, is French for dove
V is for vernissage (haibun – haiga)
The artist was excited as she hung her last canvas for her vernissage at the local public library. She was always impressed at the amount of people who showed up on weekends, rain or shine for these humble viewings. Under each canvas she went around to tape on the wall a haiku her niece sister had written , adding subtle and thoughtful meaning to her art.
light of day fades
fragmented promises
slip away
light of day fades
thoughts that once, seemed important
seem to disappear
fragmented promises
never had
the time of day
slip away
unfulfilled promises
just can’t turn back time
©Tournesol’16/04/26
Blogging from A to Z Challenge
Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie
U is for Utopia (troiku)
flowers blossom
all year round
peace in Utopia
flowers blossom
butterflies and hummingbirds
tasting utter bliss
all year round
love dictates
compassion rules
peace in Utopia
connected we are all
as one
© Tournesol ’16/04/25
in mourning (troiku)
laying to rest
near the weeping willows
flowers for Mother
laying to rest
assortment of colours
adorn her domain
near the weeping willows
coming to life again
this spring day
flowers for Mother
Sunday’s best
this morning
© Tournesol ’16/04/25
Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie
daily moments ~flowers for mom (troibun)
She had rented a car for the weekend. Rather than get her usual economical car like a Hyundai Accent or Nissan Versa, the manager offered her a Fiat because she mentioned how she missed her old Renaud V and this was about the same size. But, the Fiat was rented already and he offered her the VW Beetle. She thought of the first car her sister drove in the early ‘70’s. Yep, they had had good times in that are driving in snowstorms to go shopping or get to a hairdresser’s appointment in a town 30 km away. She remembers fondly a photo she has of her sister and nephew in front of the dark blue VW Beetle with a lime green flower painted on the front hood. Yes those were the days of flower power.
Three hours before returning the car, she drove to a mall to look for running shoes, but with her large feet she could not find anything that fit comfortably. She stopped at a florist and picked a bright orange flower and added green flora and leaves since it was her mother’s favourite colour. She looked at the arrangement and was pleased with the finished product until she arrived at the cemetery and saw such beautiful flora arrangements. She made a mental note to choose larger flowers. Mom would have liked to stand out more.
She went to fetch water to pour into the vase, hoping the flowers would remain beautiful for a week or two. On Mother’s day, she thought out loud, she would rent a car again and bring her a lovely arrangement.
As she placed the flowers in the vase over the gravesite, she noticed one green flower kept pointing towards the highway away from the front. She chuckled at that thinking that her mom was probably giving her a message. She had chosen this plot facing the highway going towards her favourite shopping mall. Her mother DID love to shop until we all dropped and she was still going.
Maybe it was the sunny day or all the beautiful flowers at different gravesites, but she felt sadder than other times she had been in the other visits here.
filled with budding love
empty heart
missing her mama
filled with budding love
green petals
her favourite colour
empty heart
one day they will meet
fulfilled shall she be
missing her mama
loving was second nature
‘til death shall she feel
© Tournesol’16/04/24Na
NaPoWriMo’16/04/24
Tournesol dans un Jardin 