Haiku Growing with the Iris

iris flower stalk,bearded iris bud,bearded irises budding out,

the irises grow
bud out like they believe
there is no more frost
  4-4-2016

 

This is another haiku that I was so sure I had shared on the blog, but I don’t see it so maybe I didn’t. I am trying to share all of my poetry, no matter how good it is. I used to try to share it in the appropriate season, but remembering to go back and find a haiku to share for the current season while also writing new haiku for the current season has proven to be difficult. So here is a haiku, appropriate or not.

Advertisements

Frosted Poetry

tiny icicles,frost,winter,hard grost,iced over,

  Frost

the old man tells us stories

man tells us stories

stories

of when he was

a boy

before the white

stuck

to his face like

hoar frost

 

 

I wrote this for a #ShapePoetry prompt on January 15, 2017. The poem’s shape is supposed to remind you of the tiny white frost that sticks up like spikes.

 

In Accidental Power

  #1624

Apparently with no surprise

To any happy Flower

The Frost beheads it at its play –

In accidental power –

The blonde Assassin passes on –

The Sun proceeds unmoved

To measure off another Day

For an Approving God.

 

white roses, white rose bud, rose buds, rose's bud

We hated Death and hated Life

No one can explain the pain of loss and the wonderment of it, better than Dickinson.

 

  #1136

The Frost of Death was on the Pane –

“Secure your Flower” said he.

Like sailors fighting with a Leak

We fought Mortality.

 

Our passive Flower we held to Sea –

To Mountain – To the Sun –

Yet even on his Scarlet shelf

To crawl the Frost begun –

 

We pried him back

Ourselves we wedged

Himself and her between,

Yet easy as the narrow Snake

He forked his way along

 

Till all her helpless beauty bent

And then our wrath begun –

We hunted him to his Ravine

We chased him to his Den –

 

We heated Death and hated Life

And nowhere was to go –

Than Sea and continent there is

A larger – it is Woe –

First Hard Frost

first hard frost is here
the grass, a silver forest
hope the birds have flown

 

Fall has come again. Time outside is limited, and time itself seems limited as the days grow shorter.

What are you struggling to get done during the day?

Hard Frost

frost on grass

 

first hard frost
 ice encases the earth
my heart is as cold

 
 

Need a place to vent? Share what’s making you sad this week.

Fairy Footprint

a fairy footprint –

seeing a mark in the frost

I stare in wonder

 

 

Looking back through my notebooks and diaries, I think this is the first haiku I ever wrote.  Its at least the first one I ever wrote and kept.  I might have written one or two in school, but I don’t have any.  However I did save a sonnet, a couplet, and some other poems from English class.