Blue Moon
The roses bloomed twice,
and nobody noticed but
you – who stole my heart.
———–
For Chevrefeuille’s Tackle it Tuesday prompt.
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The roses bloomed twice,
and nobody noticed but
you – who stole my heart.
———–
For Chevrefeuille’s Tackle it Tuesday prompt.
Butterfly
Morning butterfly
enjoys the warm roadside air
of a late summer.
Autumn
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.
Kingfisher
Blue rising movement
makes the river-sipping trees
suddenly greener.
Pigeon
Why has that pigeon
followed me to France? Is it
obsessed with humans?
Failure
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).
Like ducks, two people
on a calm lake, canoeing
in the rain, talking.
——-
On holiday with my daughter.
Working horses stand
waiting for another load
burdened by patience.
———–
At a festival of 19th century crafts in Baud, Brittany, I watched the harvesting and production of flour. There were four big draft horses providing the power, but they seemed to spend most of their time waiting.
Diving through the waves
I chased shoals of eager fish
and the sea ate me.
———–
There are few things better than swimming in clear sea water on a summer’s day.
Through a darkening sky
the harp draws each star, gently,
as an opening heart.
—————-
This is a haiku prompted by a magical evening spent listening to Celtic harpist Cecile Corbel perform in the open air on a still evening on a hillside in Brittany, France. The venue was a restored village from the 19th century, Poul Fetan.
I went with my two teenage children, and having started with a clear blue sky, afterwards the sky was full of more stars than I’d ever seen (and completely clear of clouds) – we followed a mysterious line of lanterns through some woods to the next field, and it was full of astronomers with telescopes: we looked at the stars and saw galaxies and nebulas as never before. Wonderful.
My French is not very confident, but I’ve also had a go at translating my haiku while still in holiday mode:
Par le ciel qui s’assombrit,
la harpe attire chaque étoile doucement;
comme un coeur qu’ouvre.
In winter treetops,
solitary pigeons wait
for reasons to coo.
——————–
They have been watching me walk to work all week…I’ll keep you posted on developments!
Facing a new week
waiting for spring, I feel her
tension beneath me.
Snow-smothered Sunday
streets silent this morning, when
I woke to go swimming.
—————-
We had 10cm of snow overnight.
poetry diary 