Image source and link to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai…
van gogh’s sunny art
birds wait as seed snacks ripen
farm weed in flower
posting poetic prose
12 Oct 2020 5 Comments
Image source and link to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai…
van gogh’s sunny art
birds wait as seed snacks ripen
farm weed in flower
11 Oct 2020 7 Comments
Linking to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai butterfly prompt…
crumpled butterfly
beauty in the brokenness
dreams yet take flight
04 Oct 2020 5 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: apple trees, fall, honey bees, spring
The vers beaucoup (French) is a poetic form meaning “many rhymes”, with 4-line stanzas. Linking to https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2020/10/03/saturday-mix-lucky-dip-3-october-2020/

i hear fall call from stone wall
to all apple trees and honey bees,
as you please, give your best for fall fest,
then rest…we will sing, come spring!
03 Oct 2020 7 Comments
in twilight of dreams
luminous orb taps window
sleepwalk with full moon

02 Oct 2020 2 Comments
el derecho blows
roiling storm moves in straight line
knocking cornfields flat

01 Oct 2020 2 Comments
In honor of Carpe Diem Haiku Kai’s 8th anniversary…congratulations to host, Chevrefeuille!
ripe pumpkins in field
colors of maple and oak
harvest of haiku

29 Sep 2020 16 Comments
as a poet cannot
make a muse move,
a prophet cannot
demand a message
but listen and wait for
Spirit’s quiet flame
when light of truth shines
do we crawl into shadow?
when brutal history repeats
do we hide behind mask?
world system in rebellion
haters will project hate and
throw Christians to the lions to
tempt God to shut their mouths
but Lion of Judah will roar as
the last Word on the last day.
___________________________________________________
When I read Lisa’s challenge to write in the “vatic voice”, I wasn’t sure I’d have anything to say. As usual, I waited and let the idea roll around in my mind. I heard news of rude criticisms of SCOTUS nominee, Amy Coney Barrett, and her adoption of children from Haiti and it seems she is “suspect” because of her faith. Then something sparked in me…
28 Sep 2020 27 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: cats, haibun, moon
Frank hosts haibun Monday (moon day) at dVerse poets’ pub.
Cats hunt by the light of the moon, on the prowl for frightened mice, lost birds, or warm baby bunnies. They slink sleekly; wait with tail twitching…then pounce without an ounce of apology. Cats are soft fur & purr, sharp fang & claw. They yowl and croon at the midnight hour. Mating is a loud caterwauling affair…must lust happen just below an open window?
mysterious moon
catwalks across night sky
gleams in black cat’s eye

25 Sep 2020 3 Comments
Find truth based in actual reality
We hold these truths to be self-evident
Apply truth to every human being
that all men are created equal;
Recognize the real Source of truth
that they are endowed by their Creator
Protect individual rights against mob “truth”
with certain unalienable rights;
Defend the basic truth of the right to life
that among these are life,
Allow persons to pursue truth freely…
liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
…because the Truth will set you free!

20 Sep 2020 2 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: boundary stone, haiku, heather, moorlands
old boundary stone
marks division of moorlands
texture of heather

Linking to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai time challenge…
15 Sep 2020 22 Comments
Image from Radio Canada (2018)

broken shadows across the cracked ground
skeletal corpses of burned trees
rising eerily above
ancient fir forest floor
littered with creatures
choked by the smoke
victims in
wildfire
ash
A nonet is nine lines of poetry, beginning with first line of 9 syllables, second line of 8 syllables…descending to one line of 1 syllable. The first line of my nonet is taken from W. S. Merwin’s poem, To the Light of September. I am linking to dVerse poets pub where Laura hosts tonight…
14 Sep 2020 18 Comments
In bleak January, as calving season approaches, we check cows during the night. It’s usually a quiet, clear, and cold walk through the cattle yard with a flashlight. Above earth’s shadow, the Milky Way spills stars across an expectant sky. The rib of crescent moon leans toward eye of Venus blinking down on contented mamas-to-be.
They chew, then sigh with heavy breath as ribs expand to carry spring’s developing calves to term. Gentle bovine eyes shine with pregnant reflection behind frosty eyelashes, longer than winter. Some stand by empty bunk, licked clean, while others fold knobby legs and wide hooves underneath them to rest, barrel-bodied, on bedding straw. They turn their heavy heads, nostrils flare to smell, as I pass by.
What do cows think about, meditating on their cud? I do believe that “in their dreams, they sleep with the moo-n.”
Quote from Mary Oliver’s Death at Wind River; link to dVerse prosery.
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