Half Moon

Leaf 257 – Looking Back / Looking Forward

 

Hajime Namiki - Tree Branches and Stars at Night (1947)

For auld lang synge …

 

 

Midnight –

a half moon,

the change between years.

 

 

 

 

Weeping Willow

Leaf 256 – Reflections

 

Sutō Kazuyuki - Kaze (2014)

I can think of many times, when I’ve seen this view both in England and abroad. And it never fails to evoke emotions which seem so typically resonant of reading the Chinese T’ang Dynasty poets.

 

 

Weeping willow –

trailing sad fingertips

in the river’s endless flow.

 

 

 

 

Grumbles of Thunder

Leaf 255 – Reflections

 

Tomura Shigeki - Shadows, In Summer II (1999)

This poem was written in the late afternoon of a particularly oppressive summer day here in Tokyo.

 

 

Grumbles of thunder

punctuating a sultry day

that refuses to rain.

 

 

 

 This poem was first posted on Bluesky

Unmoved

Leaf 254 – Reflections

 

Glacial erratics on Benlaight (Geograph)

Some things (should we choose to see them for what they actually are), serve to remind us that, in fact, we know nothing of the true nature of time’s passing …

 

 

Biding its time

unmoved –

a glacial erratic.

 

 

 

This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #vssdaily writing prompt: 'boulder.'

Something To Do

Leaf 253 – Reflections

 

Ramon Casas - After the Dance (1899) Museu de Montserrat

I’m getting old. – Alas, it comes to all of us in time.

 

 

There was something

I was gonna do,

but –

I've forgotten what

I was gonna do.

 

 

High Notes

Leaf 252 – Reflections

 

Ohara Koson - Soaring Skylark

Another poem inspired by skylarks – see also, Leaf 52 and Leaf 69.

 

 

Warm air

shimmering                             skylark’s

high notes.

 

 

 Or, perhaps, the haiku works better laid out like this:

 

This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #dailyhaikuprompt: 'skylark'

Drifting Between

Leaf 251 – Art Inspired

 

Vivian Maier - Wilmette Beach (1968)

This is another of my #artinspired poems, originally posted on Bluesky, in response to seeing a wonderful monochrome photograph by US photographer, Vivian Maier, titled: ‘Wilmette Beach’ (1968).

 

 

Drifting –

between the blue

of sea and sky.

 

 

 

 

Sea Shell

Leaf 250 – Looking Back

 

Déjà vu …

 

 

Empty shell –

echoing summers

spent by the sea.

 

 

 

 

Photograph Credit: PickPik

Moonbathing

Leaf 249 – Looking Back

 

Johan Christian Dahl - A Cloud and Landscape Study by Moonlight (1822)

When I was a teenager, a friend of mine told me that from her bedroom window she often saw her next-door neighbours lying on sun loungers in their garden long after it was dark. We used to joke that they were ‘moonbathers,’ instead of sunbathers. Now that I look back though, I remember that this was in the summer, and so, I suspect that this seemingly strange behaviour might well be explained by the fact that the Perseid meteor shower occurs in August. My friend’s neighbours were probably lying out there in their back garden simply enjoying this annual, silent celestial firework display, rather than vampires on their summer holidays – as we’d so strongly suspected!

 

 

Moonbathing –

while shooting stars

fill the August sky.

 

 

 

 

Robert Ayton - The Perseids (The Night Sky, 1965)

Tom Bawcock's Eve

Leaf 248 – Looking Back

 

This poem is based upon a piece of Cornish folklore which was turned into a beautiful children’s story book by Antonia Barber and Nicola Bayley, The Mousehole Cat (1991).

 

 

TOM BAWCOCK’S EVE

 

As the storm abates,

all eyes turn to heaven –

eating our stargazy pie.

 

 

  

Photograph Credits: Grasshopper Productions

Change in the Wind

Leaf 247 – Reflections

 

Rowland Hilder - Winter Landscape

Fate and fortune often seem elemental ...

 

 

A slight change

in the wind

sends clouds our way.

 

 

 

 This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to an #inkMine writing prompt: 'slight.'

Forget-Me-Nots

Leaf 246 – Looking Back

 

Another poem about home, which neatly pairs with Leaf 234.

 

 

Recalling –

forget-me-nots

in our old garden.

 

 

 

 

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

Photograph Credit: Pixabay

Dandelions

Leaf 245 – Reflections

 

Helen Whistberry - Dandelion Clocks

This poem makes a neat pairing with the sunflowers in Leaf 239.

 

 

Wishes sailing

wither on the wind –

seeding future suns.

 

 

 

 This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky is response to #whistpr: 'wish', and #dailyhaikuprompt: 'seed.'

Yellow Paper Moon

Leaf 244 – Looking Back

 

Kiyochika - Fireflies on the Kinu River (c.1930s)

This poem is about a time when I stayed at a ryokan in Izu, where the writer, Yasunari Kawabata, used to stay. Late in the evening we ventured out, dressed in yukata, to see the fireflies. The innkeepers gave us a paper lantern with a candle in it to help us find our way.

 

 

A yellow paper moon

pooling light upon

our homeward path.

 

 

 

 

Bamboo Steamers

Leaf 243 – Looking Back

 

A common enough sight when travelling in East Asia. This poem always reminds me of the islands around Hong Kong.

 

 

Bamboo steamers

stacked out to dry

– evening rain.

 

 

 

 

Photograph by Tim Chamberlain

Beachcombing

Leaf 242 – Looking Back

 

Sarah Evans - Rhossili Beach

Another poem recalling childhood summers spent by the sea …

 

 

Salty skin and

sandy hair –

beachcombing.

 

 

 

 This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #dailyhaikuprompt: 'beach'

Toffee Apples

Leaf 241 – Reflections

 

Some things in life are allied by a warm glow …

 

 

Sunsets –

like toffee apples

on the pier.

 

 

 

 

Photograph Credit: BrightonPhotoGallery

Snow Overnight

Leaf 240 – Reflections

 

Kawase Hasui - Senzoku Pond, Tokyo (1928)

Again, as with yesterday’s haiku, I think this very simple poem speaks for itself …

 

 

Snow drifting

serenely through

night silence.

 

 

 

 This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #dailyhaikuprompt: 'snow drift'

Sunflower Seeds

Leaf 239 – Reflections

 

Andrew Wyeth - Sunflowers (c.1982)

I think this very simple poem speaks for itself …

 

 

Birds feasting

on sunflower seeds

– the day brightens.

 

 

 

 This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to two writing prompts, #dailyhaikuprompt: 'sunflower' & #whistpr: 'bright'

Marking Time

Leaf 238 – Reflections

 

John Burgess - Yews in a Country Churchyard (date unknown) British Museum

Yew trees are often very long-lived and are usually found growing in English churchyards. The reason for this, I think I remember reading somewhere, is likely due to a more ancient sacred association between the yew and the dead which predates the arrival of Christianity in the British Isles – hence the (self-reflective) pun in this poem of “old yew” and “old you.”

 

 

Marking time –

an old yew

by the lych gate.

 

 

 

 This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #haikuchallenge writing prompt: 'yew.'

Pine Shade

Leaf 237 – Looking Back

 

Tsuchiya Koitsu - Spring Rain at Matsushima (1936)

I first read about Matsushima on my second trip to Japan and a few years later I actually managed to go there and stay for a night or two (see here). It is very beautiful. I hope I might get a chance to go there again someday.

 

 

Cool shaded

pine grove –

Matsushima in mind.

 

 

 ***

On Matsuo Bashō’s visit in 1689:

 

His brush held still,

lost in admiration –

Matsushima.

 

Kawase Hasui – Futagojima Island, Matsushima (1933)

These two poems were originally written and posted on Bluesky, each in response to a different #dailyhaikuprompt: 'pine grove' & 'pine admiration.'

Bus Shelter

Leaf 236 – Reflections

 

There’s nothing more miserable than waiting for a bus which never seems to arrive in inclement weather.

 

 

Bus shelter –

damp clothes

cling colder.

 

 

 

 

Photograph Credit: Anna Kozlova (Pexels)

Amber Moon

Leaf 235 – Art Inspired

 

Ivan Aivazovsky - Moon Path (1841)

This haiku was written after reading a book of short stories by one of my most favourite authors, Joseph Conrad.

 

 

Amber moon –

silence slipping out

of the roads.

 

 

 

George Charles Beresford - Joseph Conrad (1904) NPG

This poem first appeared on Bluesky

Old Oaks

Leaf 234 – Looking Back

 

S.R. Badmin - Oak (Ladybird Book of Trees, 1963)

There are lots of old oak trees dotted about my hometown in the leafy green suburbs of northwest London. And many of them are so large that they must be several hundred years old. There is one in particular which stands beside a roundabout on a road near where I used to live. Every time I see it, I can’t help but notice how each day so many people rush past it in their cars. It is vast, yet it is so evidently unseen by all those who beetle about under its wide stretching boughs every day. If you do stop to look at it and take in its impressive majesty, it is hard not to be overtaken by sheer awe at the monumental mass of this living thing. Seeing its size, with a base trunk that measures several metres in both width and circumference, set me to thinking about its longevity – not least when a similar sized oak tree in a nearby churchyard was sadly wrecked in a storm. It made me think about all the generations of people who have passed by this tree while it has ever so very slowly assumed its steadily increasing presence over the years. It made me think of my great grandparents, long since departed and buried not too far away – just a mile or two up the road, in fact. They must have passed under this oak’s leafy boughs when they were once young, like me. It would have been huge in their eyes too, even then.

 

 

Old oaks espied

by young eyes anew

each generation.

 

 

 

Tim Chamberlain - Old Oak on the Roundabout (2021)

This haiku is a variation on one originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #vssdaily writing prompt: 'oak.' I'm still undecided as to which I prefer.

An Empty Ruin

Leaf 233 – Reflections

 

C.F. Tunnicliffe - Song Thrush and Cyclamen (1960)

When I was young, I often used to find these discarded relics scattered on the garden path of our house. Looking back at our home, I remember thinking that only a few decades before during the air raids of the Second World War, it too had by luck or pure chance managed to survive suffering a not too dissimilar fate.

 

 

Empty shattered ruin –

slow whorled demise

of an old snail shell.

 

 

 

This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #vssdaily writing prompt: 'ruin.'

New Moon

Leaf 232 – Reflections

 

Following on from Leaf 92 and Leaf 93, these are two further linked verse haiku reflecting upon the Apollo lunar landing programme and the age-old notions of both “a new moon,” and “a blue moon.” The last incorporates elements of a famous line spoken by Charlie Duke, the Capcom at NASA, to astronaut Neil Armstrong after Armstrong reported that “the Eagle has landed.”

 

 

20 July 1969:

all eyes on earth

– a new moon.

 

***

 

About to turn blue,

breathing again –

new moon.

 

 

 

These poems were originally written & posted on Bluesky in response to a #dailyhaikuprompt: 'new moon.'

Photograph Credits: NASA

Scribing the Sky

Leaf 231 – Reflections

 

This is a poem recording a sight seen on a trip to Shimoda, on the Izu peninsula, in the early summer of last year.

 

 

Over the cliffs,

scribing clear sky –

kite flying rising pirouettes.

 

 

 

 

Photographs by Tim Chamberlain

Serengeti Picnic

Leaf 230 – Senryu (or witty, tom-foolery)

 

This is another poem – possibly – inspired by watching the nature documentaries of Sir David Attenborough (see also, Leaf 124). However, I like the ambiguity in this one. It poses the question: exactly who is having a picnic in this scene?

 

 

Serengeti picnic –

pride of pink faces

dozing in the sunshine.

 

 

 

 

This poem was originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to a #dailyhaikuprompt: 'picnic.'

Photograph Credit: Bernd Lee/Pexels

Sultry Summer

Leaf 229 – Reflections

 

Namiki Hajime - Tree Scene 96 (1999)

The large hedge in the lane behind our home here in Tokyo – which is essentially a leafy mansion block for sparrows – is often abuzz with chirping conversation (see Leaf 8). The following haiku was penned at the height of a very sultry summer:

 

 

Sparrows –

chattering about

this incessant heat.

 

 

 

 

Cri de Coeur

Leaf 228 – Reflections

 

Kilmar Tor (Geograph)

Another poem, reflecting upon sights commonly seen and closely felt in the far southwest of Cornwall.

 

 

CRI DE COEUR

 

A buzzard’s cry –

circling far across fields,

piercing a granite tor.

 

 

 

 

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

Summer Solstice

Leaf 227 – Reflections

 

Max Alexander STFC SPL - Sunrise Solstice at Stonehenge (2008)

A haiku which I wrote to mark the Summer Solstice on 21 June 2025:

 

 

Broken stones –

centuries meld into

a single sunlit morn. 

Jon Britton - Stonehenge (1801)

-----------------------------------------------------

Plus – two, slightly less-reverential, senryu:

 

SOLSTICE

 

Summer not yet begun,

already the nights

are drawing in.

 

***

 

Falling a foot shy,

street bollards almost

aligned on the solstice.

 

 

 

 

Lukáš Lehotský - B&W Bollards

The first and last of these three poems were originally written and posted on Bluesky in response to different writing prompts, see: #vssdaily & #whistpr.