No.12

on the old farm track

rainwater in the wheel ruts

frozen over

outside the cafe

a dog's lead and collar

chained to a lamppost

at the cottage door

a canary in a cage

sparrows on the ground

a thousand raindrops

sparkling on the fir trees

first day of spring

eclipse of the sun

for a few minutes darkness

closes the daisies

nothing on TV

opening the old biscuit tin

for needle and thread

a fierce gust of wind

the tea garden's umbrellas

become airborne

facing the March winds

the summer seats

nobody sits on

my coffee untouched

I lose track of time

preparing haiku

smoking cigarettes

+

deciding to stop

+

hanging wallpaper

+

smoking cigarettes

-o0o-

THAT BRINGS THIS SERIES TO AN END

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

No.11

in shallow water

the tiny flounder is hidden
on the sandy bed

after the rainstorm

the midnight sky clears - a moon

in every puddle

rain from the wind chimes

dripping on the oil drum

adds to the music

there's no escaping

The Yellow Rose of Texas

from the ice cream van

first day of spring

the sound of children's laughter

floats down the stream 

on the carousel

a ventriloquist's dummy

among the cases

at the check-out

without looking up

have a nice day - take care

spring is here at last

I get a new jacket

so does the scarecrow

from the promenade

we watch a poor man

fight with a deckchair

where the old car had parked

all the colours of the rainbow

on the oil spills

-o0o-

NEXT POST HERE THURSDAY

-o0o-

After a break of three months

NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL ART

returns on Sunday 22nd March

http://nowthatswhaticallart.blogspot.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

No.10

another cold day

tapping the barometer

still no sign of spring

visiting grandma

the little boy plays for hours

with coloured buttons

summer evening

on the golf course - long shadows

follow us home

in the surgery

surrounded by wall pictures -

internal organs

through the distant trees

the flash of leaping antlers

and a rifle shot

gently caressing

she moulds the wet clay

poetry in motion

in the fading light

the owl just a dark shadow

against the dovecote

excited squawking

from the budgie - a big cat

on the window ledge

the old gentleman

 enters the elevator

and takes off his hat

one tiny dewdrop

the sun, clouds, the entire sky

reflected therein

[inspired by a saying of the 13th century Zen master DOGEN]

-o0o-

ANYONE FOR HAIKU
will now be updated every Thursday

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

No.9

still in the silence

the shadow of the wind chimes

on the garden wall

smell of burning wood

wisps of smoke above the trees

the sound of an axe

the farmer's gun fills the sky

with a flock of birds

and my dog with fear

into the cavern

following the torchlight beam

a sudden chill

placing her coin

in the slot, the little girl

pats the stone dog

from the summit

the village lost in mist

just the church spire

held up by roadworks

noticing for the first time

the colour of corn

before the roller coaster

has started

the girls are screaming

evening on the loch

my hand joins its reflection

in the cool water

yesterday

admiring a butterfly

today

killing a moth

-o0o-

ANYONE FOR HAIKU WILL NOW BE UPDATED EVERY THURSDAY

The new blog

TAKING THE ONE LESS TRAVELLED BY

begins on Saturday

http://takingtheonelesstravelledby.blogspot.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

No.8

after the downpour

the pavement wriggles

with a host of tiny worms

summer afternoon

the weather cock's shadow

on the hen house roof

low tide - noisy gulls

forage in the rock pools

for stranded fish

her Anais Anais
announces her arrival
before she appears

early morning breeze

a beach ball bounces along

the deserted shore

both thumbs in plaster

(the job would be no problem)

bent nails everywhere

peep through the curtains 

rain again 
the day can start without me

in the Old Folk’s Home
the lady who never speaks

joins in “Danny Boy”

silent pond

suddenly alive

sound of frogs

a gentle wake-up
the blackbird's insistent song
creeps into my sleep

-o0o-

NEXT POST THURSDAY

Now online
WOMEN ON CANVAS
the new art blog began yesterday
http://womenoncanvas.blogspot.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

No.7

A new art blog begins on Sunday 1st March

WOMEN ON CANVAS

http://womenoncanvas.blogspot.com

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

cloudless spring night

a stone thrown into the pond

shatters the moon

struck by a small branch

the hedgehog retreats

into himself

at the foot clinic

embarrassment

an odd pair of socks

in the moonlight 

the sycamore's shadow 

above my bed

in the mirror shop

a dozen images

confirm my ageing

Sunday morning

my reflection follows me 

round the boating pond

unconsecrated

the unmarked graves of paupers

concealed behind trees

three tin openers

lie mangled - defeated 

by a can of soup

the old house empty

our tiny footprints still there

on the concrete path

on the common

two old men among the boys

flying their kites

-o0o-

NEXT POST HERE MONDAY

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No.6

spring sunshine

the kitten and her shadow

lie down together

at our store of nuts

for the birds, a tiny mouse

scurries away

between each wave 

crashing on the rocks

a moment's respite

childhood memory

waking to the sounds and smells

of gaslit breakfasts

steam clearing slowly

from the bathroom mirror

an old face takes form

turning a corner

the redness of the poppies

field after field

sunset at the pier
the creaking of timbers
wind in the rigging

at the dolls' party 

we sit on the grass

drinking invisible tea

trailing in the stream

the willow branches gently

sway in the current

-o0o-

The last one here is of course not a haiku. It has 9 lines and each of them has 4 syllables. Just a bit of fun!

sitting alone at the party 

in a corner

during a lull 

this is my chance

I clear my throat 

they turn to me

I hesitate 

I say nothing

-o0o-

NEXT POST HERE THURSDAY

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-