All posts tagged flowers

Happy International Haiku Poetry Day 2016!

Published April 17, 2016 by AllThingsShort


Saint Michael’s head,


new Moon…

my turn to watch over

the stars


the hummingbird

is gone

the falcon surveys

his kingdom

from the highest branch

at least 20 geese

floating on the river

towards the morning

Rapid yellow buzz

Blossoms give up their nectar

For precious honey.

Chirping in the air

A gathering of spring time

All is cool and fresh.

Drinking in moisture

The little rain cloud is filled

To water the grass.

Gleaming feathers preened

Head and shining bill held high

Away floats the duck.

Morning dripping sky

Splashing puddles gathering

Waiting for my boots.

Chasing through the woods

Silver illumination

Can’t escape the moon.

A basket of pups

Snuggled together as one

Sleepy mound of joy.

that seagull

flying with the kites

has no string

the daffodils

gawking at

the still-brown grass

my outstretched arms…

waiting for the wind

to take me away

alone in bed…


the smell of him

misty sunrise—

in the corner of my eye

the dancing Graces

Happy International Haiku Poetry Day 2015!

Published April 17, 2015 by AllThingsShort

Yellow daffodils

Kissing a diamond-blue sky–

April Afternoon.

My clumsy footsteps

Scare away a woodpecker

Hunting for breakfast.

Not to be outdone,

The robins join the chorus

Of crickets and frogs.

With two loving hands

The sculptor offers the Moon

To a lonely world.

Complete reverence

As the poet paints the lake

With a seasoned pen.

The little beetle

Feminine in name only.

Spotted black and red.

Is it too early

To dream of ocean breezes

And sand­-covered feet?

Brilliant morning light

Shows crystalline on the world

Till the grass comes through.

Flowers shed their dress

The seeds too seek out new homes

And fly with the wind.

Weightless blossoming

Whispered breath from hopeful lips

Wishes blown away.

When the crumbs take flight

Feathered motion interrupts

Shatters glassy suns

Tiny flying lights

Like stars come loose from their dark.

Magic in the night.

A sleeping robin

On the dying maple tree

At the edge of town.

Like a tired ghost

The Spring Moon yawns into view

Over the placid lake.

The rhythm of Spring

Pulses throughout my body

Each time my heart beats.

On a cloudless night

A mother’s hushed lullaby

Wakes the sleeping stars.

I often wonder

If the green of the forest

Would make a good home.