Poetry ~ Waka
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
softly gasps
wind whistles softly
her nakedness
through the screen door
curve of the moon
(c) 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
cascades d’eau
inondés de souvenirs
d’un temps lointain
même l’eau n’apaise plus
ces chutes moqueurs
***
waterfalls
flooded with memories
a time long ago
even water does not soothe
those mocking falls
(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
Handcrafted by Alain Johnson, Clinical Director
It is difficult to put into words what my heart feels but perhaps with images and a few haiku I may manage to give a glimpse of le moi à l’interieur.
Changing careers in 2000 was not only a choice but a dream for me. Accepting this position was a privilege not a duty. Helping those who find the courage to reach out is a joy. Hearing disclosures of suffering is an honour which I embrace each day with overwhelming love and humility.
I’ve been privileged growing up swaddled in love and compassion which gave me the resilience in times of adversity. Too many have never had this advantage in life.
On Thursday, I was showered with well wishes and compliments…festive balloons and hand crafted candles announcing my 15 years working at a national youth line. And yet, I am the one to be thankful for doing what I love best.
My colleagues warmed my heart with such sweetness and one special person wanted to show her sentiments by giving me a beautiful bouquet of fresh cut flowers that touched me more than she knows.
Bouquet from Stephanie Julien-Gaudry
I never felt so close to my colleagues as this day and grateful to be part of such a great team of loving and caring counsellors. I know how I have always felt but have never realized how I may be perceived by others and truly this is humbling.
red roses
spilling fragrance
bleeding hearts
exuding sweetness
hope restored
blonde petals
swell of golden glow
souls inspire
unsullied
yet, made of substance
with purest intent
(c) Tournesol’15
warm rain
the spring moon returns
to the rusty can
©Yu Chang
warm rain
the spring moon returns
to the rusty can
rhythm of raindrops
a lovers’ cadence
(c) Tournesol’15
The morning after la fête de la St-Jean, waves roll debris on wet sand; seagulls screech for revellers’ leftoversr. Walking on wet sand, she limps to a bench and watches the sun break through the clouds, remembering dancing around le feu de la St-Jean with him.
straw hat shields
greeting new dawn
weathered skin
(c) Tournesol’15
sudden cloudburst
innocence surrenders
wind’s casualty
When she was little, she would climb up into the tree with her sister and her cousin. They would imagine the branches had mini bananas.
such wonder
visions of faraway lands
child’s play
giraffes and elephants
and banana trees
morning sun
beams on nature’s gifts
fragrance grins
(c) Tournesol ’15
Written for: http://chevrefeuillescarpediem.blogspot.ca/2015/07/carpe-diem-special-155-adjeis-second.html
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
