Poetry ~ Waka
shiny streets
wet from rain in midwinter
real slick
city streets at night
shiny from rain
palls real solitude
chasing snow parks
refusing to believe
winter rain is real
church steps oblige
safe shelter for homeless man
staging real life
© Tournesol’16/01/09
Daily Moments Jan 9 2016 – Haiku Horizons “Real”
after months at sea
docking home at last
finds his true love
ragoût et tourtière
souvenirs de ma grand-mère
bien-être retrouvé
saisie par l’arôme
cannelle et chaussons aux pommes
souvenirs de son passé
scents cast memories
apple pie and cinnamon
found from her past
© Tournesol’16/01/06
Our host, Chèvrefeuille at Carpe Diem gave us a photo to inspire our imagination and paint what we see with our words.
poussière d’ange
cantiques lumineuses
dans la voie lactée
angel dust
radiant incantations
in the milky way
© Tournesol ’16/01/04
Such weakness of body pulled her down throughout the day; she tried to read to no avail; writing a line or two would have been a paramount success but with feeble mind the words were lost in a fog; she completely lost track of time.
cruising in sleep
around the clock and then some,
sailing through time
(c) Tournesol ’15
Daily Moments – December 30 2015
Troiku is a new haiku form created by Chèvrefeuille, my haiku mentor at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai
Troiku
let down by the rain
four days `til Christmas
still hoping for snow
let down by the rain
grey clouds of dismay
shadow blue Monday
four days `til Christmas
four more chocolate delights
kids’ advent calendar
still hoping for snow
downy white coverlet
covers Mother Earth
©Tournesol’15-12-21
gibier d’automne
recettes de Grandmaman,
baies de genévrier
baies de genévrier
assurent une meilleure digestion,
une bonne haleine
une bonne haleine
les baies de genévrier dotent
des bisous sensuels
des bisous sensuels –
s’effondre dans ses bras
quel long soupir!
© Tournesol’15
(translation)
autumn wild game
Grandmother’s recipes
juniper berries
juniper berries
insure better digestion
freshens breath
freshens breath
juniper berries rouse
sultry kisses
sultry kisses,
collapses in his arms
that long sigh
© Tournesol ’15
raindrops on bamboo
shimmer in the sunlight
little diamonds
© Chèvrefeuille
hot summer breeze chills
that morning afterglow
reflects a faint glint
in his eyes – she breathes
his name
© Tournesol ‘15
The sun is smiling today. There is still an extra hour of bright colours before I am forced to retire to the gloom of old church dorms. I must hurry and not waste time in the narrows of my mind! It is time to capture what my heart might see some day…again. Oh to have lived among the life of such hints, once sparked my life.
The sky is bursting with bright aqua and the sun is so bright it dominates the clouds. Billows smile in her golden glow. Oh how I would love to be there some day and run through the fields with my lover. Hand in hand skipping like youngsters again. Oh, to be young again and soulfully alive.
It is a good harvest, I overheard a farmer say to the cook last week. And yes, I can see the wealth of wheat so much prettier in the fields; blow, blow wind! Run while you still can until we meet again in the grey pit of my breakfast bowl where only milk and brown sugar will turn you into a shade of mud.
feel nature’s pulse
golden wheat waltz
lilt of the wind
© Tournesol ’15
November Haibun #3
THE WALTZING WIND – Michiel Merkies – Piano Solos volume 1
The church was filled with people of her past, close friends, colleagues and family. It felt so bizarre being in this house of worship. This was where she received five sacraments…only one left to go. The voice of the priest interrupted her thoughts now and then.
At the reception a few old high school friends offered their condolences. Her first high school sweetheart looked like a caricature of his teen-self decades ago adding jowls and lots of wrinkles on this stranger’s face. She was touched by his presence; his husband was introduced to me too. How life was different then, she thought. At least today society seems a little more open. Leaving a small, gossipy and unforgiving town helps too.
(shadorma)
young lovers
wishing life were fair
eagerly
expecting
sweet innocent love affairs
dreams just may come true
That night she rummaged through her bedroom closet and took out her old childhood jewelry box. Sitting on the bed, she opened it and tears streamed her face as the music box played Lara’s Theme. Looking through the old memories, she held a pin her mother had given her when she had “become a woman”. It was their secret. She held it in her hands and still felt the warmth and love they shared together, that very special bond.
She smiled at a postcard her best friend in Grade 9 had sent her when she had met her first love that summer long ago. She cranked up the music box to feel she was back there in her childhood bedroom years ago. Her fingers felt the sharp edges of the Eiffel Tower. Her art teacher had given her this hoping she would take her gift in painting seriously…she never did get around to that after college…life happened.
At the bottom of the jewelry box was an old photo…her mind traveled back in time.
that first kiss,
sealing promises of dreams
fairy-tale wonder
© Tournesol ’15
B & P Shadorma & Beyond and MindloveMiserysMenagerie
© MindLoveMiserysMenagerie – Collage 9
It’s been getting colder in the past week. Nights have dipped below freezing point and she has mixed feelings about that. Ragweed allergies will finally cease; daytime walks are still splattered with colours but the nights walking home from her late shifts will now be cold.
On her way back from her favourite grocery, Thai Foo, greens in her backpack, she cannot not help but notice sweeping changes with nature around her. Many trees have lost most of their leaves, and the late bloomers who also shed the latest, still hold some beautiful colours. The yellow turned to a dark orangey tint, the maples were an even brighter red and one tree she could not name had yellowed leaves with dark brown strips of seeds hanging. It truly looked like a Hallowe’en decoration. How totally apropos, she thought.
She knew there was about a week left of signs of life through tints and hues. After October 31st…the goblins will have eaten up most of life’s colours. November will prowl like rodents lurking garbage bins; life will appear barren day by day. She admires the last photos she took today, wishing this week could drag on a few more months. Le mois des morts(the month of the dead) is what they call November in her region.
novembre se faufile
soupçon de mélancolie
envahit
November slips in
drop of melancholy
spills over
Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille and MindlovemiserysMenagerie
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
