Gallery / Haiku/Senryu

the Wind

reclaims the tall tree

that stands alone

Broken

but not conque

frost on the grass

a good day for training

fully nude

with bare feet

the setting

sun

between

two trees

leaves

half in shade

 Dear Summer mornings;

I see no sign of the sun.

Where has it now gone?

Night feel

Hair soft to the touch.

Night enclosing us.

Feels right but it might be wrong.

The dog went to the

park. He lapped the water up

from the fountain there.

Between branches

sparrow frolics

High on blossom

Dark sinew waiting

Grey night, grey day, darkness comes

Unknowing prey dies

harvest reflection

scarlet  rosemary tattoos

working man blues

 

Fake reality

Threads entwined round each other

Producers heaven

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swallows wheel and cry

pools of honey-golden tears

cleansed by skimmed milk sky

Enchanted moment

Flawlessly holding my hand

Warmth within my heart

Cruel, cruel pain is cold

You are freezing me to death

Ice is warming me

Gluides above water

Huge wings swoop over your head

Flees into the moon

The ingredients of this product make it very special. It has very natural extracts. The ingredients have the very best in t

crack of dawn verges

open eyes shun fleeting dreams -

she is beautiful.

may i see the stars?

a mariner charts to You,

so why fog the night?

Love you more each day,

You’re blind to my affection,

Screams for attention

Love you more each day,

You’re blind to my affection,

Screams for attention

Future open Wide

My horizons bold and bright

The world at my feet.

In the garden we

walk in bliss, unaware of

our own nudity.

Then, head the serpent&rs

burned, his song subdued

his heartstrings only grazed now

in slow solitude . . .

Heart yearns for his Home

Yet Home does not yearn for Heart

Heart ceases to beat

In the garden we

walk in bliss, unaware of

our own nudity.

But curiosity is a

Dishes crusted furry vacuum shrieked  Insomnia disguised in confident gazes mouthed Help-Me Depression

sleepy, flaming trees

drop confetti on parades

only I can see

creation’s hard price:

arts’ truths lie in eyes beyond

makers’ rich, blind mind

Cold geese take flight south,

Winter’s breath drives them onwards,

Thier call beckons frost