A lovely prompt to write a haiku about cherry blossoms in our mother tongue with the English translation. English is my mother tongue, so I have translated in French which is my second language and “the” language of my province. Here is my troiku about cherry blossoms.
cherry blossoms majestic and generous shade lovers kissing
cherry blossoms
budding promise
love is in the air
majestic and generous
pink showers
silken petals fall
shade lovers kissing
a love story
in spring
fleurs de cerisier des amants s’embrassent sous l’arbre imposantes et généreux
fleurs de cerisier
promesse bourgeonne
un aire d’amour
des amants s’embrassent sous l’arbre
une histoire d’amour
au printemps
imposantes et généreuses
corolles soyeuses déversent
une cascade rosée
Walking to the grocery store, she stopped now and then took photos of the landscapes. Her focus was the front door of most houses all adorned with their winter addition. Can you see the common theme here?
winter home
seasonal fixture rests
geared up for snow
Temperatures rose in the afternoon melting the snow in the streets adding puddles on the side that were not pedestrian friendly. She regretted wearing her white parka.
Yet, it was still pleasant walking in the mild weather just barely zero Celsius… no need to wear a hat was a nice treat to feel the wind blow in her hair; walking was slow due to the snow-covered sidewalks but still nice. Sidewalks are not plowed in most residential areas. A crow flew overhead and she noticed for the first time the thick winter nests for birds that were brave to stay here and not fly south.
snow dusted pine
cradling soft whiteness
dressed for winter
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.
Tournesol dans un Jardin 