Rose-red lips;
as autumn leaves fall, we kiss.
How could I not know?
——–
For September Haiku Heights – today’s prompt is ‘teacher’.
Late summer sunset,
clouds float like ballerinas.
Kiss me. A swan dies.
——–
For September Haiku Heights – today’s prompt is ‘ballet’.
A man and a dog,
dark storm clouds rising beyond.
Listen – faint bleating.
——–
For September Haiku Heights – today’s prompt is ‘shepherd’.
A silver moon bow
embracing frozen hills;
a leaf sheds her snow.
——–
For September Haiku Heights – today’s prompt is ‘silver’.
The May Queen dances.
An old woman by the church;
only her eyes move.
——–
For September Haiku Heights – today’s prompt is ‘guardian’.
A damp leaf twitches;
mist rises up the valley.
Another leaf moves.
——–
For September Haiku Heights – today’s prompt is ‘frogs’.
Dragonflies rising;
summer air ripe with pine scent,
fills with damp birch leaves.
——-
Warming up for September Haiku Heights.
A bench by the path.
Ten years, I’ve been walking.
I will rest here.
——–
Inspired by and written with thanks to Brenda Yun, at Pilgrims’ Poems, who’s just published one of my poems from earlier this year. She’s building a great site, which is well worth a look.
I’m not religious, but I respect the wisdom, discipline and power of all the great religions. Pilgrimage is an almost forgotten tradition in many of our cultures which is perhaps worth reviving.
Desperate pine trees
cling to wrestling mountains as
continents collide.
——-
On holiday walking in the Alps.
Incense-scented air;
trembling drums charm the arms of
five belly dancers.
—————
Crescendo of bells.
The cafe door opens.
Two Morris dancers.
—————-
It’s been the annual folk festival in Warwick this weekend. There were many more belly dancers and (especially) Morris dancers, but these seven were most memorable.
poetry diary 