Poetry ~ Waka
Il marcha seul sur le bord de la rivière en se souvenant d’un temps lointain. Il tenait sa douce main et leurs lèvres se touchent une dernière fois.
rose miroité
rivière reflète l’adieu du soleil
soupçon de muguet traîne
© Tournesol ’15
Walking alone by the river he remembers this time years ago, holding her soft hand. They kissed one last time.
magenta glow
river mirrors sun’s adieu
scent of lily haunts
© Tournesol ’15
Near their campground was a huge strawberry field and every July the children would pile into the family car in the morning before the hot midsummer sun. Straw hats and lots of sunscreen, the children ran off to do their own thing with a feeling of self-importance and holding their own plastic buckets.
lost in bushes
child pokes his head smiling
strawberry lips
© Tournesol’15
One feels her warmth as she pulls you toward her chest and hugs you as if you are her child. Fragrance of roses wash over you despite the thousands who have already surrendered to her loving embrace…
thoughts linger
weightless, yet, fulfilling
silencing the mind
silencing the mind
scent of roses awaken
feeling her embrace
© Tournesol ’15
asamutsu ya tsukimi no tabi no ake banare
bridge of morning
a journey of moon-viewing
at dawn
© Basho
Our host has written:
in the thin line
as the night flows into the day
sun and moon together
© Chèvrefeuille
sun and moon dancing
as the night flows into the day –
a skylark’s song
© Chèvrefeuille
Here is my attempt:
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She reflects on her evening’s work; so many youths lost in suffering. It makes her think about life, her adult children and her grandson. Her heart filled with love as she walks back home late into the night.
At home, she sits and begins to write…a purging of thoughts flooding her screen that shines brightly like the full moon in the window. All these thoughts, suffering, doubts and concerns fill her screen as she turns her head towards the window, as if the moon has answers.
hushed contemplations
scrolls by light of the moon,
the early bird chirps
© Tournesol ’15
After dinner, brother and sister would go to the pier with their mother to fish. The mother didn’t mind putting the squiggly worm on the hook for them. He would feel so proud when he got a bite and would reel in his catch, a small gold carp. Silently (yet beaming) he would unhook the fish and throw it back into the lake to give it a chance to get bigger.
His little sister would through the rod backwards not realizing the hook could catch a human and anyone close by would hide for cover; she was but five years old and took her fishing seriously…her serious look meant “business” so different than the “laissez-faire” allure of her older brother.
They are nice memories of a long ago, by the lake, together, hearing the catamarans rock, soft waves roll in and feel the tug of a fish bite now and then.
wiggly worm
alluring innocence
gold carp
gold carp
pleads for time
swims to freedom
© Tournesol ’15
Written for: CPHK
Thanking our host and patient mentor at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai for his dedication and tireless commitment to his blog, our prompts and mostly that has allowed me to grow a bit more each day. Merci Chèvrefeuille!
Daisies have always been special to her.. She often felt a daisy represented the multiplicity of her personality, so many petals, and several layers. The petals hidden underneath were a mystery to her and so many more to explore … her everchanging self.
© Clr’15
daisy for you
loves me, loves me not
means so much more!
soft petals, fragments of me
still more to discover
© Tournesol’15
They arrived at the cemetery, the fourth of July, for the burial of her mother’s ashes. Such a beautiful sunny day and the evergreens mixed with willows made for an appropriate setting. She brought the roses to represent her sister and her, her two children and her nephew and the three grandchildren…adding one red rose for her mother’s husband. A brief prayer was read and they each sprinkled ashes over the urn, “Love you Mom.”
willows weep
breeze kiss her tears
waving adieu
(c) Tournesol ’15
Written for Carpe Diem Haiku Kai Prompt: “tears falling”
Grief followed her like a doting puppy; days, weeks, months of moments tears just soaked her face; never a moment’s notice, tears of grief are spontaneous and sneaky. She knew this; expected this and accepted the sudden burst of tears.
Last week, marked a milestone in her career and colleagues and friends were most generous with comments and well wishes. At the end of her shift in the late evening, a colleague working the night shift rushed to her to deliver a beautiful bouquet of fresh cut flowers.
sudden burst
heart bathed in pure love
tears of joy
(c) Tournesol ’15
Big city fountains offer solace to children and adults during summer heat waves. A homeless woman soaks her feet in tepid water chanting a bluesy song, swaying side to side.
summer spree
water fountain splash
uplifting spirits
(c) Tournesol ’15
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
