
afternoon stroll
watching pigeons on the beach
white dove leads the pack
feels at home with her colombe
peace washes over her.
© Tournesol ’15/12/22
CPHK – Seven days of Christmas #5 “peace”
Colombe is the name of my mother.
Poetry ~ Waka

afternoon stroll
watching pigeons on the beach
white dove leads the pack
feels at home with her colombe
peace washes over her.
© Tournesol ’15/12/22
CPHK – Seven days of Christmas #5 “peace”
Colombe is the name of my mother.
No matter how much I feel I am fine alone, loving my independence, embracing my solitude so I can think, meditate and write at my heart’s content…listening to this song right now makes my heart flip flops, longing for that connection…
(senryu)
dreaming, you – me
locked in reckless abandon
our sinful desires
~
(tanka)
gravity kicks in
before the rise of dawn
drags me to reality
reach out to caress you
fingers stroke just mangled sheets
© Tournesol ’15/12/23
Inspired by this song:
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do
I’ll still feel you here ’til the moment I’m gone.
You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much
Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain.
[CHORUS:]
Set me free,
Leave me be.
I don’t wanna fall another moment into your gravity
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I’m supposed to be.
But you’re on to me and all over me.
Oh, you loved me ’cause I’m fragile
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while
And all my fragile strength is gone.
[CHORUS]
I live here on my knees
As I try to make you see
That you’re everything I think I need here on the ground.
But you’re neither friend nor foe
Though I can’t seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you’re keeping me down.
You’re keeping me down, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You’re on to me, on to me, and all over…
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
If it weren’t for seeing parking lots packed at shopping malls, people carrying shopping bags along with their briefcase on their way home, you would never think it was two days before Christmas. The Christmas cheer is floating in the air despite the rain and lack of white powder on the ground. It just does not feel right!
December rains
colours nature grey
chasing snow angels
© Tournesol ’15/12/22
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
She entered the Métro station and was bombarded by a mob of holiday shoppers marching towards her. It was obvious these were not regular travelers fortunately, as their their stride was casual and relaxed, flexible to sidestep and allow her to pass. The last Sunday before Christmas and this was another reason she wished dhe did not have to work today.
Panhandlers and homeless persons may have been relieved having a more captive audience, not immune to their plight as were many regular daily commuters.

buyer’s remorse,
consumed with Christmas lists
clink in a tin cup
© Tournesol’15
The day started with a surprise visit.. I had planned to take a bus to pick up a parcel it and get some items at the grocery store next door. My son arrived minutes after I had showered, so, I quickly braided my wet hair and rushed out. He mentioned he has to guard frenzied drivers to avoid an accident. I couldn’t agree more with his need to err on caution since I was careful crossing the street c as well; there seemed too many hurried drivers running red lights and cutting other cars off.
I took advantage of his arms and his car to get heavier items at the store. We stopped for a submarine on our way home. As I was waiting for our order to ring up, my son was pointing to the homemade cookies on the counter. For a moment I felt like I was right back 30 years ago when he was seven and silently eyeing something like a hot wheel or candy bar. A gush of warmth swept over me.
As we stepped out of the restaurant there was blowing snow…looked like millions of tiny white beads spreading on the dark pavement. Temperatures had dropped today and I was hopeful the ground would stay white just a while longer.
North winds quicken
snow clouds dim late afternoons
chilling brittle bones
fairy dust on dark pavements
brightens this early dusk
© Tournesol ‘15/12/19
IDYLLIC SPRING
Grassy steps led to an over-grown garden. Looking down Janice wondered who had built the walls and indeed, when those stony steps had last been used. The garden full of wild flowers was weed-choked but the sun filtered down invitingly. She began to descend, half-way down the stairs she stopped surprised.
Piercing the silence, a blood-curdling howl. Robin red-breast rises, screeching, into the sky.
She looked down the remaining stairs and saw a large brindled cat stride out from the undergrowth. Tail swishing she realized the hunter had lost his prey.
idyllic spring
among the wildflowers
the hunt continues © G.s.k. ‘14
We are inspired by Georgia’s idyllic spring in this beautiful haibun. One feels the youth of spring and the adventures of nature in her writing. This is my attempt to write in this spirit.
*************************
That spring, long ago, they piled in one car to have lunch at la Cabane à sucre in Saint Grégoire ; five colleagues who formed close ties over the years. They had shared stories of their families, wept for their children and bragged about their successes. The drive was only ten minutes from the Clinique communautaire… enough time to laugh like teenagers with their banters. Enjoying this meal, they all remembered eating the first time in their grandmother’s kitchen, having savoured the smoked ham, rich thick omelettes and home baked beans, sprinkled with maple syrup. Les grandpères for dessert was their choice without any hesitation.
It was difficult to leave but work awaited and they stepped out onto the sparkling snow, breathing the cool fresh air among the maple trees spilling sap in tin pails. Every spring was the same sensation she felt of a new life and especially a renaissance of the heart. The sun warmed her face and she felt alive and free for a moment. “A pity we have to go back to work, les filles, it is a time to traipse in this glorious forest with a paramour!” Giggles echoed in the forest.
March sunrays
form diamonds on the snow
melt my heart
© Tournesol ’15
Heeding Haiku with Chèvrefeuille at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie
tense Christmas shoppers
savagely pushing and shoving
vengeful yahoos play
© Tournesol ’15
Today, I woke up looking out the window at the rain; 9 C on December 17th is so rare. I thought to myself, “Why wait for New Year’s resolutions?” and thought of a haiku at that moment. Why not write a haiku (or more) a day when the thought pops up in my mind? Sure I write sometimes three or four posts a day with prompts…but why not go back to basics? The reason I started all of my blogs…to journal thoughts of the day and now that I enjoy haiku so much, why not put that moment in a haiku every day?

wakes up to the rain
looks out at that sky of gloom
crawls back into bed
I have to admit that the rain looked bleak from the inside, but once I walked to work, dressed in my hooded raincoat, I felt pretty darn good. Isn’t it amazing how life offers you wonderful opportunities to take another look?
two sides of a coin
perception
makes or breaks
looks out the window
lamenting skies
one-sided view
raindrops
sparkles of joy
nature’s gems
© Tournesol ‘15
cherry blossoms
tender petals weep
like snowflakes
cheery blossoms reel
sighs of a woman
peaked
tender petals weep
whisper with the wind,
teardrops on ivory
like snowflakes
on tender cheeks
blush
© Tournesol ’15