Words are Impoverished

Sunday, May 11, 2014

 

Sun blessing warm lawn;
Beatified forsythia--
This grand Mother's Day.

 

 Dandelions grow;
Yellow heads on my back lawn--
So common, so rare.

 

 On top of brown leaves
Forsythia petals lie--
Fluttered to their end.

 

 Horizontally,
Mabel enjoys the sunshine;
Dreaming soft dog dreams.

 

 Tiny white flowers
Among bright dandelions
Waiting to be seen.

 

 Shade of the forest
Promises summer's respite;
Now only a thought.

 

 Stump congregation
Survived another winter
Sinking to the ground.

 

On this sacred day
The haiku come so slowly--
Words are impoverished.

 

Monday, May 12, 2014 

 

What is this white tree
That bursts into bloom each Spring
Sitting on my lawn?

 

 Mosaic flagstones
Elegantly point the way--
Medium is message.

The hungry sheep eats
Pushing his head through the fence.
(Maybe it's greener.)

Lone dandelion
Sits at the edge of the bank.
He will not fall in.

Dandelions mock
Delineated wood fence.
They grow on both sides.

Another walker
Makes the road seem quieter.
Each wants solitude.

Insects like jet planes
Hum noisily past my nose;
Hope they don't collide.