senior living

This is my delight,
thus to wait and watch at the wayside
where shadow chases light
and the rain comes in the wake of the summer.

Messengers, with tidings from unknown skies,
greet me and speed along the road.
My heart is glad within,
and the breath of the passing breeze is sweet.

From dawn till dusk I sit here before my door,
and I know that of a sudden
the happy moment will arrive when I shall see.

In the meanwhile I smile and I sing all alone.
In the meanwhile the air is filling with the perfume of promise.

©️ Rabindranath Tagore

Challenge: Try to create a haiku  from this poem by Tagore and than create a Troiku with your “distilled” haiku. Link to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai. My attempt follows…

 

i sit by my door
watching shadows chase the light
from dawn to dusk

i sit by my door
see the people passing by
everyone hurries

watch shadows chase light
sun dapples quivering leaves
of old poplar trees

from dawn to dusk
quiet hours marked by clock chimes
awake between naps

 

©️ lynn__

where walk takes me

 

I’ll walk down our gravel road, usually alone with God, or sometimes with my neighbor and her boys. We chat along the way and soon we’re back home. I used to take my husky…or she used to take me (I miss my fast and furry companion). I walk a mile or two for the exercise and fresh air.

Other times, I’ll meander through our grove of trees sheltering our house and farm buildings. I go to tune in nature, clear my head and calm my heart. I listen to bird calls, admire the foliage stage of the trees or mushrooms in the grass, and perhaps pick up sticks blown down by our last wind storm. 

A bold rabbit hops closer and pauses to observe me observing him. Long ears twitch before he hops for cover under blue spruce. A black-bibbed flicker tap taps in tree until I pass below; he bobs and flits away. I startle a handsome ring-necked pheasant which whirs up, startling me. Bending down, I pick up a perfect robin’s egg that fell out of the nest, unbroken.

 

oak trees hold old leaves

prairie winds buffet farm grove

birds mourn fallen nest

 

 


Bjorn inviting us to take a walk with dVerse Poets this week…

first blossoms

Join Frank Tassone‘s haiku challenge…

magnolia-trees-springtime-blossoms-spring-38910.jpeg

 

cherry trees will bud

float like soft pink petal clouds

hatsu hana spring

ocean of space

 

Full moon is like white halibut, slipping through nets of fishermen trees.

 

 


Inspired by full moon and book, Crossing the Waters, by Leslie Leyland Fields, an Alaskan fisher(wo)man.

leafless not lifeless

CDHK prompt from Jane Reichhold’s “Dictionary of Haiku”:  leafless trees

img_5861

photo by lynn

 

 

ghostly silhouettes

naked exposure to wind

squirrels find hollow

European tour: Poland

Chèvrefeuille at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai hosts virtual tour of Europe this month.

Indian Summer

autumn’s mirrored feast

wood smoke reveals trees true hues

kielbasa spices

(photo credit: CDHK)

European tour: Finland


Chèvrefeuille at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai hosts virtual tour of Europe this month.

 

north’s pristine water

clarity of thousandth lake

trees dive where clouds swim

 

finland1

(photo credit: CDHK)

breezy little poem

 

gentle quiver shivers maple leaves

reveals flash of their silver underside

quiet breath whispers subtle tease

where downy baby owlets hide

 

stronger gust flexes tops of trees

may blow in raindrops late today

squirrel kits sleep fits and sneeze

when swing in spring’s breezeway

 

 

A quadrille (44 words) linked to dVerse Poets pub.

an Ent-ful event

My response to tan renga challenge at CDHK

 

250px-TREEBEARD

Treebeard from wikipedia

 

Rumbling winter storm – 

Ents are dancing with their wives – 

ancient limbs entwined

© Paloma

 

celebrate bark-won battles

snow settles on grateful trees

(c) lynn__

 

spring notes

Playing with tan renga form at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai

forgotten flute

shadows of leaves
cover the open holes
her flute forgotten
                         (© Jane Reichhold)
 

she dances with woodland nymphs

notes floating on music of trees

(c) lynn__

sevenling (fantasy)

 

if dust were diamonds,

asphalt was gold, and

trees’ leaves paper money,

 

we’d sneeze on greed

drive over wealth, con~

sider banks quite funny!

 

fantastical, our discontent would blow away with wind~

 


Linking to dVerse Poetics with Lillian on “fantasy” theme…

 

weather the weather

nonet: stanza(s) of nine lines, each with increasing # of syllables (1-9)    dVerse poetics


warm

days of

november

probably past

colder times ahead

forecast fog, wet grey rain

free- zing  an- ti- ci- pa- tion

smell of manure spread on bare fields

trees’ silhouettes swallowed by swift night

photo by lynn

photo by lynn

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