Plum Memory #tanrenga

plum fllowers

a child’s memory

sweet is her pink fruit smile

leg, hands and limbs (mdw)


where the waters flow afar
the village glows with sweet plum flowers
       (Anonymous)

 

The Tan Renga challenge (from Kristjaan Panneman) is to build a haiku off the two lined stanza. A great challenge as we usually build off the body of a poem in a Tan Renga – join us.

 

The photo was part of the Tan Renga prompt.

Memory of a Child #poetry #parenting

But I smiled yes I smiled

at the thought of your little hand in mine

we walked on rugged terrain

lots of ups and downs and arounds

you grew yes you grew

I turned one full rotation

and your were grown yes on your own

so many memories trapped in my heart

questions of a child wove through my mind

like glistening ripples in colored water

and I smile yes I smile

merry go round ride

To each of you who have loved or parented a child this poem is for you. For without these smiling children our world would have little hope for a warm future.

Unspoken Message #poetry

fog

Does your hem leave a message

“I was here” in the dust

one last passing memory

a soft remaining touch

 your hand ever steady

sweep the last of the day

fingers part foggy mist

like a scene in a play

as our lives ever on

there is so much to say

but to friends it’s enough

gentle kiss blow your way

The prompt at A Prompt Each Day: Through Thick and Through Thin just seems what friends are and what they do…

I am grateful to each of you for the gentle words you say, the laughter you leave behind, and the Smiles!

Since Cherry Blossoms… #haiku

Inspired by Basho:

since the cherry blossoms
I’ve waited three months to see
the twin-trunk pine

Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

cherry bouquet

memories spill over

cherry blossoms line the path

counting the days

*

cherry daydreams

soft pink decorates the sky

never sated

cherry  haiku

Photography: Moondust Designs 2015

 

This episode of Carpe Diem Haiku “Since Cherry Blossoms” is a reminder that they will return.

Memory’s Harvest #haiku

At the beginning of September I came back to my birthplace. Nothing of my mother remained. The grass in front of mother’s room had withered in the frost. Everything had changed. The hair of my brother and sisters was white and they had wrinkles between their eyebrows. We could only say, “We are fortunate to be still alive.” Nothing more. My elder brother opened an amulet case and said reverently to me, “Look at mother’s white hair. You have come back after such a long time. So this is like the jewel box of Urashima Taro. Your eyebrows have become white.” We wept for a while and then I composed this verse:

if taken in my hand
it would vanish in hot tears
autumn frost
© Basho (Tr. Jane Reichhold)

dirt

The soil was where our story began ~

We were farmers and during the coldest winter,  harshest depression, or strictest rationing, we always had a spare morsel for someone with empty hands. Great grandfather passed down a love for the harvest; his son carried forth that responsibility. Some of us shared that love for the land while others tried to get the last dime from her. Dimes are spent rapidly and with little memory. The land has been faithful and gives back to those who dig deep…

still warm to the touch

memories flow with the tears

you have never failed

crops

 

The Carpe Diem  prompt  today is from the wonderful haibun from Basho. “If taken in my hand” fills me with new and old memories as my hands return to the soil this season.

 

 

 

Your Poem on the Wind #poetry #loss #photography

sandpipers
Finger traces words
pages escape in the wind
poetry never dies
*
I clasp the memories
near to my heart
those warm days
and you and I
chasing shore birds
we dance in the sea-foam
our laughter joins with the sea’s chorus
“come frolic with us in waves of eternity
just beyond the sun”
A tear muddies the poem
the one you wrote
of your love
tied in a bundle
with so many others
invisible fingerprints
caress the ribbon
that has untied your sentiments
too many times to count
brown and brittle are the pages now
a piece breaks off
and is caught by the breeze
I scorn its warm glow
it too wants a bit of you
finally I crumple your treasures
to brown papery dust
setting you free for the last and final time
a silent petition I raise:
“let me join you
to frolic in the waves of eternity
just beyond the sun”
sun and wave foam
 This poem is inspired by Anna Akhmatova a woman who knew the glow and loss of love.
Today at Poet’s United Midweek Motif the theme is “A Woman’s World.” One thing women have long known is the value of love and the weight of loss and yet we endure.
poets united