poetry diary

I rhyme to see myself, to set the darkness echoing. (Seamus Heaney, from Personal Helicon)

Blue Moon

The roses bloomed twice,
and nobody noticed but
you – who stole my heart.


For Chevrefeuille’s Tackle it Tuesday prompt.

Holiday haiku


Morning butterfly
enjoys the warm roadside air
of a late summer.


Funnelled clouds point south;
as Autumn falls on tired trees,
birds fly like leaves.

After the storm

This summer morning
damp; a gift from last night’s storm
making grass sparkle.


Blue rising movement
makes the river-sipping trees
suddenly greener.


Why has that pigeon
followed me to France? Is it
obsessed with humans?


Setting out in rain
to a final appointment,
Spring was his last hope.


This is a collection of haiku written on holiday earlier this month. (The pigeon haiku refers to a couple I wrote earlier this year).

Lac de Guerledan

Like ducks, two people
on a calm lake, canoeing
in the rain, talking.


On holiday with my daughter.

Song of the Forest

I tremble as you touch me,
as you run through my trees;
and I long to embrace you
with my dew-dampened leaves.

My breathing follows seasons
and my rhythms are slow;
changing light into water
for the creatures below.

And you?
You of the quick boughs and sliding roots:
you race with the sunbeats, but don’t know what you seek.

I try to speak.
Sometimes we touch – we knew each other once,
and breathed together.

I tremble as you touch me,
as you run through my trees;
and I long to embrace you,
with my dew-dampened leaves.