Poppy Petals

Leaf 206 – Remembrance

 

Dmitry Levin - Forest Poppies

There’s something intensely poignant in the forlorn fragility, but also the sheer tenacity and profound resilience, of the poppy which is very moving. See also, Leaf 118 and Leaf 204.

 

 

Poppy petals

bruised

by the rain.

 

 

 

 

Busy Bee

Leaf 205 – Reflections

 

A haiku hymning and humming about honey bees abuzz in their hive.

 

 

Busy busy bee

– sending word, via a

well-waggled dance.

Photograph credit: Pexels/Pixabay

Remembrance Sunday

Leaf 204 – Remembrance

 

Pinner War Memorial (David Ayling-IWM)

In the early 1990s, when I was a teenager, I was a bell ringer at my local Parish Church. As the youngest of the ringers (most of whom were several decades senior to me), I was usually sent up into the bell chamber to fix the muffles on the bells for Remembrance Sunday. It was always so cold, even in the ringing chamber, during the winter months. Sometimes frost would form on the sallies of the bell ropes. But somehow, to my mind at least, the weather at that time of year seemed appropriate for such a solemn ceremony of commemoration.

 

 

Numbed fingers

ringing the bells

– Remembrance Sunday.

 

 

 

Pinner War Memorial (Brian Chapman-IWM)

 

In Her Clutch

Leaf 202 – Senryu (or witty, tom-foolery)

 

This short, but sweet, Raymond Chandler-esque poem is an attempt to distil a film noir-ish feel into a short haiku. In some ways, it might perhaps be read as a prequal to Leaf 201.

 

 

In her clutch –

a small silver pistol

with a single bullet.

 

 

 

Pitfall (1948)

 

This senryu was written and first posted on Bluesky in response to a #haikufeels writing prompt: 'clutch.'

Click on images to view their source.

New Morning

Leaf 202 – Reflections

 

Fan Ho - Approaching Shadow (1954)

This poem was originally written for a haiku contest, which I didn’t win.

 

 

A new morning –

without her

widow’s weeds.

 

  

 

Saturn's Rings

Leaf 201 – Reflections

 

Earth seen from Saturn (2017) NASA JPL-CALTECH SSCI

Continuing the theme from Leaf 199, meditating on how we choose to perceive the different scales of time which surround us.

 

 

Inking a wolf’s hair brush –

drawing the emptiness

into Saturn’s rings.

 

 

 

This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #haikufeels writing prompt: ring. 

Photograph credits/source: NASA/GeoNews & NeedPix

Bright Sparkles

Leaf 200 – Reflections

 

Kawase Hasui - Fireworks on the Sumida (c.1930s)

The 5th November in the UK is known as “bonfire night,” and it is the time of year for large public firework displays. Consequently, ever since I was a child, fireworks have always been associated in my mind with the start of winter. Whereas in Japan, ‘Hanabi’ (花火) firework displays are often associated with summer. But whichever season they are staged in, naturally enough, the response and reactions are universally the same.

 

 

Bright sparkles burst –

and ripple out

into soft “Ahhhs.”

 

 

 

Eiichi Kotozuka - Fireworks at Kyoto's Kamo River (c.1950s)

 

Petal Heads

Leaf 199 – Reflections

 

Aiwa Katsushi - Sunflowers

Plants and flowers seem to live in accord to a different pace of time to us, but, every now and then, we maybe get a glimpse of the world as they perhaps seem to see it.

 

 

Petal heads rotate,

gently hypnotized

to the horizon.

Ohtsu Kazuyuki - Summer Sunflowers (2012)

This poem was originally posted on Bluesky in response to a #haikufeels writing prompt: rotate.

Village Fete

Leaf 198 – Senryu (or witty, tom-foolery)

 

I wrote this little poem purely for my own (and, undoubtedly, very English) sense of amusement …

 

 

On his way to the village fête,

the curate’s bicycle wheel

– buckled.

Photograph source: WPFastestCache 

White Cottage

Leaf 197 – Looking Back

 

Edith & Rowland Hilder - Tansy and Chicory (Wild Flowers, 1957)

This is a poem from the sweltering hot summer of 2003 – written when I was living in rural Bedfordshire.

 

 

Looking from the window,

that small white cottage

on the horizon,

                             she says

– was once her home.

 

Early Morning

Leaf 196 – Looking Back

 

Philip Townsend - No.73 Bus, London (c.1960s)

During the late ‘90s and early 2000s, I lived in London’s Stoke Newington. I used to love travelling in and out of town each day on my way to and from work on the old red Routemaster buses (see also, Leaf 32).

 

 

Moist breath

on the windowpane

– early morning bus.