Walking across the street, she almost tripped over her feet looking up admiring the moon. Despite the frigid air, she felt blessed watching beauty in the night sky.
look at you
seductive with your curve
beaming at me
that halo around you,
such cosmic grace
snowflakes on his tongue
makes her quiver
licking white doilies
Although the cold is often avoided, once she gets her warm clothes to weather these frigid temperatures, she finds pleasure walking on fresh fallen snow. Watching the skaters on the new rink the city put up next to her work is sheer delight. Early evening, youngsters are playing hockey and late evening, older couples are skating hand in hand. It brings her back in time, long ago watching her uncle skating on the river under a full moon with is girlfriend. How corny of her to ask if she could tag along but, hey, they accepted, and she thinks the deal breaker for her uncle was that his niece accept this lovely new femme fatal. And boy was she beautiful with her natural blond hair and liquid blue eyes. (sigh) Her heart goes pitter patter remembering those days, long ago when she believed in love and a prince charming.
Skating, tobogganing, snow shoeing up Mont Rougemont, cross-country skiing on Mount Bruno take up so much time that by mid-March it`s a shock that spring is already around the corner. So much fun in a season commonly known for cold weather and shut-ins, well, not this year. Romance trickles over onto another season where relationships blossom with the scent of amour!
stroll among maple trees
feeling each other’s heartbeat
sap trickles promise
We are to write a haibun inspired on the proverb “time flies if you have fun”. And (of course) here are a few restrictions to it. Here they are:
1. start with a haiku and end with a haiku 2. try to place your haibun (and the haiku) in one of the four seasons, you may choose the season yourself 3. your haibun may have a maximum of 250 words, including the haiku.
It rained all day and night last weekend. She thought it might just be a brief break in the season. The following day temperatures dropped so much the shiny streets turn white with frost. Whatever reason Mother Nature may give for these changes in the weather, winter is still here to stay…for a while, that is.
The wind had died down yet the temperatures had dropped. Wrapped in her down-filled coat, fleece cagoule and studs clipped on her wool lined boots, she took her time walking from the Métro. Walking through the fresh fallen snow, felt like trudging through bushels of icing sugar…fluffy and white. She felt like a child again, kicking that fluff up and watching the weightless fluff spill over her boots.
Soft patches of ice hidden beneath the snow caught a few night walkers by surprise as they slipped; their bodies wobbling like circus clowns, yet refused to give in to gravity. “Ah, they were so young and agile”, she thought. She was quite pleased she had extra insurance to stay grounded on her walk home.
Walking across the mall’s parking lot she looked up at the glorious blue sky. The sun was hiding behind a tiny grey cloud, probably snow in that one. And then she saw a huge grey mass. It was where the snowploughs push the snow. In the past ten days, the lovely air we breathe in this city added its global charm.
sun plays peak- a- boo
grey puffs drifting
frowning at our air
unforgiving images
masking the universe
Viewing her photos the dreary mountain disgusts her. The wonderful thing about art and photography is that one can alter eyesores to more delightful landscapes.
brush dipped in pale hues
shading hills innocent and pure
O winters of yore!
– or –
pleasing to the eyes
softening harsh realities
soothing to the soul
Tournesol dans un Jardin 