Footprints in the snow
Followed by a tail and two
paw prints in the snow
we arrive side by side soft
at the forest cathedral
Without a Sound
you lost your lover
a silence hangs in the air
a tear rolling down
you grieve true sorrow alone
tears falling without a sound
The Cherry Blossoms
And if this is my last Spring,
I will share my Spring with you.
We may talk about the old and the new;
silences will not be unknown to us.
And if the cherry blossoms bloom,
we may watch the way they move.
We may lose ourselves to our love,
thinking back to when we were young.
And if we forget that we are older,
I will dance with you upon the petals.
Sun Shower
Returning to a short sleep,
I served for another year.
My sister awakens warmth,
I am not without a heart.
She knows I often take time,
so slow to let the North go.
Before sleep, we often talk,
I do get carried away.
My sister knows it is time,
before sleep, a naughty smile.
She and I are creative,
we produce a sun shower.
Returning to dreams and sleep,
see you soon, my sister Spring.
Saturday Morning Haiku
Saturday morning
Autumn leaves and a puddle
Coffee and the tree
The Canvas
Strokes of madness.
Coral dreams; caves below the surface
of the sea reveal the hidden depths of you.
What was to be one now seems to be another.
The paint won’t quit.
Strokes compel you to go on.
Who is in control? The artist or the art?
The music moves you, and
the paint moves in original ways.
The sea calls, coral dreams come together,
and you have a painting worthy of yourself.
Metaphysical Thoughts
Do I belong here?
Tugging at the society I live in,
the construct I built for myself
What will I become?
A box of dust to be slowly
forgotten
as the world keeps turning
Why would I?
Day to day, we see it
all so clearly, yet
humans find a way
to hurt each other
Yes, there is light in the
dark places, yet the
darkness creeps closer
Why go on?
The sound of music tells
me to keep listening,
The desire to treat life
as a gift pushes me forward,
and your love for me
Your love is sunflowers
and
fresh Turkish Delight
Apple Tree Memories
Picked apples fill up a bucket
the warm sun burns the day away
the dress you wore last year
and the year before last;
still, it remains your favourite
Unpicked apples line the arbour
you think back to your kids
playing on a sunny day like today
yet now they are older
such joys that they held dear
now, only for the fools
Picked apples sit abandoned
barefoot and twirling
immersed in the glory days
Twirling a wish for another love
singing to the parrots
A wombat looks ready for sleep
The moment passes
you pick up the bucket
back to your empty kitchen
Perhaps you’ll make an apple pie
the eldest son loves them
maybe he will come to visit soon
Cinnamon Rolls
in conjunction
your fingers move across my lips
licking sugar
sweet rolls do bake
the intense heat in the kitchen
perspiration falling
an intermingling
the rising rolls look to be ready
beeping starts
sugar and spice cover the floor
Smell, Scent
memories
the scent of what was
haunting my Spring days
Leaving me in the Winter
ghosts
what was and what was not
dancing with me in the misty mornings
sitting with me as I read about other ghosts
dreams
the smell of what was
black and white, sometimes colour
thinking about you
C & K 