No.7

A new art blog begins on Sunday 1st March

WOMEN ON CANVAS

http://womenoncanvas.blogspot.com

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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

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No.5

at the second tee

the sparrows are fluttering

in the sprinkler's spray

Sunday morning

a howling dog competes

with the church bells

the moon keeps dodging

out of sight

behind the storm clouds

pulling petals off

he loves me he loves me not - 

best out of three?

the little girl

tries to escape her shadow

midday sunshine

in the newsagent's

the Daily Sport always racked

upside down

to reach the suet

a crow on the bird feeder

does acrobatics

sudden downpour

the bouncy castle empties

and fills with puddles

at our store of nuts

for the birds, a tiny mouse

scurries away

-o0o-

in the Japanese garden

just the whispering 

of running water

-o0o-

NEXT POST MONDAY

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No.4

 on the branch 
a gull cleaning its beak -
on the ground
a broken eggshell

memory failing

and no one left to confirm

how things used to be

in grandpa's garden

held together by creepers

an old wooden hut

 out of the dusk 

the last pigeon 

checks in

now the gentle breeze

releases a tiny leaf

to the flowing stream

freed from his tack

the pony rolls on the grass

hoofs punching the air

evening shadows creep

over the pond - the ducks leave

one

by

one

by

one

early visitor

a slimy trail on the path

our dog checks it out

self-assembly kit

proud of the finished bookcase

but what's this thing for?

-o0o-

late summer sun
the colours of autumn
between sky and loch

-o0o-

NEXT POST HERE THURSDAY

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No.3

bitter cold dawn

four young deer on the golf course

synchronised leaping

on the clothes line

feathers fluffed up in the wind

a line of sparrows

in the gutter

a bouquet of flowers

still in wrapping paper

letting the cat out
we welcome a visitor -
a little robin

early morning mist
across the loch trees take shape
the promise of sun

another birthday

old age crept up on me

when I wasn't looking

at the refuse dump

an escort of seagulls

for the cleansing truck

floating on the pond

the leaf with a passenger

a tiny frog

market day

at sunrise long shadows

fill the empty stalls

-o0o-

a blank page waiting

for my next masterpiece -

the perfect haiku

-o0o-

NEXT POST MONDAY

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No.2

nose to the ground

Cody explores the garden

an inch at a time

-o0o-

between the rocks

a moon 

in every little pool

-o0o-

each time he tells the story

the angler stretches his arms 

w   i   d  e   r

-o0o-

in the hermit's hut

a bed a bowl a table

and peace

-o0o-

bitter cold morning

the eight twenty five is late

the platform shivers

-o0o-

summers day outing

between wiper and windscreen

a parking ticket

-o0o-

lost property desk

the woman loses patience

the clerk his temper

-o0o-

low tide

a chain of seaweed snakes

along the foreshore

-o0o-

technical fault

the automated toilet

opens

closes

opens

closes

opens

-o0o-

high on the hillside

a thousand autumn colours

from a thousand trees

-o0o-

NEXT POST THURSDAY

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No.1

three score years and ten
and a further nineteen
is that really me?

-o0o-

a pair of trousers

on the frozen washing line

stand at attention

-o0o-

from start to finish

Saturday's game is replayed

in the old men's hut

-o0o-

evening on the loch
much quieter now that the geese
have taken their leave

-o0o-

a caterpillar
slowly climbs the blade of grass

then slowly back down

-o0o-

clinging to the wall

every ivy leaf shivers

in the angry wind

-o0o-

twisted roots criss-cross

the forest floor - overhead

branches entwining

-o0o-

day in day out

the caged bird and the goldfish

side by side

-o0o-

silence in the lift

then the door opens - freeing

us and our tongues

-o0o-

taking a short cut
the squirrel hurries home
on the phone wire

-o0o-

NEXT POST HERE THURSDAY

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