Spring day, sunny skies
Fresh plants, first bees buzzing
Hands begin to dig
Spring day, sunny skies
Fresh plants, first bees buzzing
Hands begin to dig
Science lesson
Excited children plant beans
In dark soil
Little chatty thing
hops round the corner and
makes me smile
Forest at night
Moon behind clouds, creatures
Give me the creeps
#DailyHaikuPrompt -ghost
#Haiku #SmallPoetry #Halloween #Trees #BlackAndWhitePhotography
A painter's palette
The Irish Atlantic light
So iridescent
#Mastoprompt - iridescent
#Haiku #SmallPoetry #Mastodaoine
Thanks to @stevencudahy
Serengeti dreams -
The running gazelle, bounding.
Acacia blooms.
The lakeside postcard
Always a letterbox noise
Now a quiet swipe
#DailyHaikuPrompt -lake
#Haiku #SmallPoetry
#Lake #Berlin #SunsetPhotography
2/2
I'll leave you with a contribution from the master, Yosa Buson:
In the warm breeze,
The pines, on the shore,
Rustle in unison.
She is happiest when surrounded by spruce and pine,
seemingly endless mountain peaks,
gurgling rivers and streams,
moose, lynx, and snowshoe hare tracks in the winter.
In spring and summer,
lily of the valley,
sundews,
wild strawberries,
fireweed and pink Calypso orchid dotted marshes,
adorn the boreal forest floor.
Her love for nature is boundless.
Cinnamon rolls and blueberry muffins,
fresh chopped fruit,
coffee,
tea,
and juice,
a silver tray reflects the present
but not the future.
Vibrant colors from the Black Mesa Landscape-like desert foreground
press themselves hard against the pastel hues
hanging in the late afternoon sky.
I’ve been walking for hours.
Night’s fingers slowly and gently pull the sun out of sight,
extinguishing all forms of light.
I stop to rest.
The cold wraps around me like a blanket.
As I drift off to sleep,
your soothing memory guides me,
I will be home soon.
Alone and
Falling in a familiar dream state
Through colorful
Explosions
Resembling
Meticulously handcrafted
Artwork like
“The Garden of Earthly Delights” or
Hokusai’s “The Great Wave.”
prompt word = aftermath
I breathe deeply the cold December night,
the white reflective clouds,
the dimly lit stars,
the luminous moon,
every spec of light,
consumed by me,
nothing left for you to see,
good night.
The Starved Night,
bitter cold wind,
shameful moon glow on the frantic water,
sleeping shadows lie upon the forest floor,
while towering trees dance upon the thirsty shore.
A single beam of golden light,
shines through my bedroom window every night,
even with the thick white shades drawn tight.
It’s you that I see,
in the form of fading memories,
as you lie down next to me,
emptiness and sadness flee.
In the morn’,
I wake predawn,
you are gone,
but your spirit will forever live on.
She walked away from the river,
her pants soaked,
shoes caked with mud,
scent of decay overwhelming,
it's stick season.
River banks overflowing,
not quite like during the spring of 2022,
when ancient trees toppled,
massive stones moved for the fist time in a 100 years,
bridges washed out,
all life torn from the ground.
A year later,
nature’s rebound,
life alongside the Winooski thriving,
her home safe,
for now.
If I had one final wish,
to cross off the list,
one last moment of bliss,
that should not be missed,
it would be a kiss,
from your soft, gentle lips.
The itchy wool blanket seemed more comfortable than lying directly on the ground,
an ineffective barrier against the creepy-crawly things meandering along the surface below.
As she closed her eyes to sleep,
a meteor briefly scraped the night sky trailing off into nothingness.
Her breathing became deep and slow.
Faint flashes of soft light captivated her mind’s eye.
She felt safe,
for the first time in years,
alone,
in a forest miles away from home.
She had a quaint look about her,
dark hair wrapped tightly in a blob on her head,
tall and confident,
an old soul shining through twenty-year old skin,
her voice was timeless,
and she said, “Yes!”
I gently placed her soft hand in mine and led her onto the dance floor.
We twirled into the night,
bathed in colorful flickering light,
surrounded by plum velvet decor.