Two Small Poems

Two beautiful haiku I had to share here from Mary Kendall’s blog, “A Poet in time”

Mary Kendall's avatarA Poet in Time

Two poems of mine were just published in the May 2015 issue of ‘cattails,’ the lovely online publication of the United Haiku and Tanka Society. I am truly honored once again by being included in the company of such excellent poets. My thanks to all of the editors, and especially to the main editor, an’ya.

Cattails

The first is a haiga.  My thanks to my good friend, Debbie Nemer Suggs who gave me permission to use her lovely photo (c) 2015 with my haiku.

haiga fiddlehead

~

and the other poem is a haiku:

Rosehips by Midori Rosehips by Midori

petals fall—
we gather rosehips thinking
only of tea

​~

Photo by Tanya of Lovely Greens Blog Photo by Tanya of Lovely Greens Blog

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Sunday breakfast (haibun)

 

http://www.bing.com/images/search?q=isle+la+motte+vermont&view=detailv2&id=496AEC2C5DE9C881FBC5BF32225BDF9113AD218C&selectedindex=9&ccid=CLVGcg24&simid=608006441579515154&thid=JN.Miqh6XGo5rp9jQZ1dopvdA&mode=overlay&first=1
Isle La Motte, Vermont – Champlain Lake

 

As a youth up to my early teens, my family would go camping from May (Victoria weekend) until mid-October (Canadian Thanksgiving).  I would literally go for a quick swim about a week after the ice had melted…just to impress my father and he and my sister would take down the tent often in the snow in October.

Every weekend my parents, sister and I would ride up to Isle le Motte, Vermont (on Champlain Lake) to spend a weekend in the fresh air.  Friday night when we arrived, would consist of eating split pea soup before going to bed and Saturday we would often have T-bone steak with huge wieners and baked potatoes on the BBQ for dinner.

Thankfully the family that camped next door were our good friends (more like our second family) from our hometown and had three children, the two eldest were teens; so the parents would sit around a campfire and do adult stuff like tells jokes and drink lots of Bloody Mary’s except for my dad who was sober since I was seven and the teens would listen to The Rolling Stones and the Beatles on our turntable….yes, there was electricity that served for our entertainment so we did not whine to our parents we were bored; electricity was only for tacky lanterns lit around the campsite and our record player.

Before starting the fire however, my father would combine the fixings to make home-baked beans, put it all in an earthenware pot and he had purchased a tiny square oven (looked just like a tin box) and dig it in the centre of the ground beneath the bonfire. The beans baked all night long .


New dawn whispers
Sunday breakfast simmers
neath amber ashes

© Tournesol’15

Carpe Diem “Dawn”

 

Wisteria (haiku)

File:Claude Monet - Wisteria - Google Art Project.jpg
© Claude Monet – Wisteria

carillons muets
douces larmes violettes
apaisent
~
hushed carillons
 tender mauve teardrops
soothe

© Tournesol ’15

Carpe Diem Special “Rallentanda’s a carpet of purple”

wisteria
fragrant chandeliers drop
a carpet of purple

© Rallentanda

Here is our host’s inspired haiku:

in the moonlight
Wisteria flowers look fragile –
a gust of wind

© Chèvrefeuille

beholden (haibun)

She stayed all  night and day, as her daughter cried from the pain she too felt striking at her heart at each contraction. If only she could have bargained with the devil to lesson her agony.    Twenty-four hours of labour and finally, her grandson was born.  The doctor offered her the honour to cut the umbilical cord. She gasped, overjoyed with her new role. She looked up at her precious gem through teary eyes and humbly bowed in her mind’s eye at her offspring’s gift.

beholden, she beams
pearl at the centre
 reaping blossom

© Tournesol ’15

Carpe Diem “Clam”

angel of mercy (haiku)

http://www.fashionlady.in/mother-teresa-a-little-pencil-in-the-hand-of-god/12428
A little pencil in the name of G-d

feeding their hearts
the hungry are her children
labour of love.

© Tournesol’15

Carpe Diem Special Childless Mother

just in time (haiku)

Mother Nature’s gift

just in time for Mother’s Day

apple blossoms

© Tournesol ’15

wasted fabric (haibun)

© Clr `15
© Clr `15

She walked in the nursing home looking for her mother. The nurse pointed to the old woman by the window in the rocking chair. She gasped! It was not enough dementia had robbed her of her mind…

shrivelled rose
lost in her robe
scents linger

© Tournesol ’15

Believe in you (haiku)

Tournesol's avatarStop the Stigma

“The woman who follows the crowd will usually go no further than the crowd. The woman who walks alone is likely to find herself in places no one has ever been before.” ― Albert Einstein.

Fear not dear one
 you know no limits
the world awaits

discover
learn, flower like a lotus
risk loving

world`s here for you
help to mend your broken heart
cheer you to go on

no boundaries
no limits that will bar you
believe in you

your potentiials
your power to rise
undying love

love amply
you will be loved
passionately

follow your heart
not the crowd who’s stuck
march further

seek curiously
live life like no tomorrows
believe in you.

© Tournesol`15

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Y is for Yesterday (Haibun)

Tournesol's avatarStop the Stigma

Y is for yesterday like yesteryear, the past. Such a word brings up so many different meanings. You walk into the office ready for that meeting you had been prepping for the past three weeks; the administrative assistance looks at you wide-eyed when you ask which room was reserved for said meeting. Stammering somewhat, she tells you it was “yesterday”…palm to forehead you jammed it so hard you are left with a red mark for a few hours and a splitting headache.

Poets and writers use this word with such passion; we do too especially if we are mourning a lost love, we feel pain and sadness at first. Later, hopefully, we can reminisce of sweet memories of yesterday’s precious moments.

And one cannot …EVER…forget the first loves of your youth…

(tanka)

Ah pure innocence!
yesterday, was such a fool
butterfly wings
loving you with heart and soul
like no…

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