
whole river view
current interrupts its course
going with the flow
(c) Tournesol ’15
Poetry ~ Waka
It is interesting that this prompt is posted the exact day I was reminiscing of times past with my mother. I was speaking with someone yesterday who mentioned that he felt sad that he no longer remembered the voice of his long deceased mother. That made me think about people I love who have passed especially my mother who recently passed this past December. I remember her voice, her off-key voice when singing, her laugh…oh her laugh!! and her cough that was unique to her. She always tried to be a lady even when coughing and would clear her throat a bit like her mother (GrandMaman) but still unique to her. I remember her ankles making that snapping sound when she entered the church when I was little and clearing her throat, I felt so much better knowing she was joining me in the pew closer to the front of the church very soon for the priest in the pulpit high up was quite ominous!
Even when she was sick and her memory was muddled, her voice never changed. I remember sitting in the front seat of the car when I was very little because I was always car sick and leaning my big fat head on her breast always worried my heavy head would crush her tiny breasts.
I remember her singing pop songs of the 50`s missing a few words here and there but her voice would make any hit parade. And of course her signature pinch. She loved with such affection she had to control herself from pinching our cheeks too hard.
I remember her telling me so often, “Dont worry, darling. Dont forget to say your three Hail Mary`s and your Act of Contrition before going to sleep.” And the latter not that long ago.
when I close my eyes,
brings me back in time
her voice soothes me
when I close my eyes
beauty adds red to her lips
scent of Youth Dew
brings me back in time
pins my hair in a French twist
pinches my cheeks
a voice that soothes me
humming Toura Loura Loura
Hush, but I now cry
© Tournesol ’15
Tonight as I read so many poems and many mention blossoms and various flowers, I can’t help but reminisce. I remember studying for exams sitting outside because it was finally warm enough, next to the house by the river. I was trying very hard to concentrate on my Latin Poetry and Prose, editing my translation of the text’s Latin poem.
“I am the poet of the poor, because I was poor when I loved; since I could not give gifts, I gave words.” Ovid
the river breeze
skims through Ovid’s poem
scent of lilacs
© Tournesol ‘15
Written for: Haiku Horizons “skim”

kites flying high
children laughing and tugging
strings entwined
parents in loving embrace
Aw! families in Shangri-La
© Tournesol ’15
stroked by the lightning
delicate peaks of sand dunes
-silence before the storm (Ese)
ear piercing booms subside
pastel arch clings to the sky (Tournesol)
© Tournesol ’15
Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge “Ese’s Stroked by Lightening”
Since I received a belated birthday bouquet of roses today, it is only common sense to write about that. After all, we are far from seeing any budding blossoms here and these are my first flowers of 2015. The fragrance of roses is that much sweeter when given with love from a child…another special day.
on a March day
searching for blossoms
Mother’s birthday
Mother’s birthday
celebrating decades
scent of a rose
scent of a rose
mother weeps with joy
counts her blessings
© Tournesol ’15
embracing cascades
spilling into dark waters,
release her despair
seeking refuge
leans over the footbridge,
faith holds her back
© Tournesol ’15

beware! tongues of fame
slyly twist words of passion
giving glory to war
~~~
folks who wag their tongues
selfishly seeking fame
feed war among friends

gossiping rooks
seeking attention and fame
wage wars of feathers
© Tournesol’15
RonovanWrites Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt Challenge #33 Fame&War | ronovanwrites//
Mountain view
city lights at night
victim of beauty
© Tournesol ’15
waves in the sky
March winds blow her hat off
rolling clouds
(c) Tournesol ’15