poetry diary

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

Category: haiku


Roots, shaking off earth,
glow white, like worms. I toss them,
dead, into the hedge.


Gardening is a brutal affair sometimes.

Music in the park

A band playing jazz
under a tree in the rain –
drops weighting its leaves.


They were about to get very wet.

June Showers

Early summer rain
scatters rose petals and scents
of an eager earth.

It’s been raining a lot here this week.

On the pavement

A tiny cyclist
head down, speeding. I move left
and bask in mum’s smile.


Time to start writing again.

November morning

Still blue autumn day;
whispers of frost on the roof.
A red vine leaf falls.

A willow tree

Trembling willow leaves
alive to summer winds, fall
to winter’s first breath.


Contemplating the willow tree in our garden.

Late autumn morning

Opening my blind
to frost-iced roof tiles, last night
lingers in the sun.

Outdoor concert

Summer oaks tremble
to music she summons with
delicate fingers.


From distant woods, leaves
rise like mist. Here, a sparrow
alights with a twig.


Possibly still under the influence of my visit to Japan.

Leaving Japan

Early spring morning.
At Haneda I buy
hand-printed fabrics.


Leaving Japan, feeling sad. It is a lovely country full of welcoming people.