With Gold

7 of 8 in the Jemverse series ‘Circular Sussex’

Got up early
Went for a wander
as the sun rose on Frogmore Lane
Retraced my steps
to the path on the hill
on my own and peaceful again

There were sheep in the field
looking at me
with a quizzical look on their face
Wondered I guess
what I was about
so early in this lovely place

Advertisements

Tri-Haiku XVII (awakening)

In this quiet time
before the morning arrives
Slumber fades away

And awakening
with my coffee freshly ground
a fragrance pervades

with birdsong chorus
on the cusp of a brand new day
The blue sky greets me

Breathe deep Friday haiku

No.6 of 7 in the Jemverse ‘Haikuweek’ series

Breathe deep the Friday
Take in its welcome presence
For the weekend looms

Then it’s Thursday haiku

No.5 of 7 in the Jemverse ‘Haikuweek’ series

And then it’s Thursday
with the smell of roses there
on tomorrow’s air

Hello Wednesday haiku

No.4 of 7 in the Jemverse ‘Haikuweek’ series

Hello there Wednesday
The midweek calming captures
Thursday’s fragrance looms

Into Tuesday haiku

No.3 of 7 in the Jemverse ‘Haikuweek’ series

And into Tuesday
It seems I seamlessly drift
with smiles to seldom

Monday morning haiku

No 2 of 7 in the Jemverse ‘Haikuweek’ series

Monday morning comes
Awakened to hot coffee
Its fragrance lifts me

The hope from flattened light

On a grey day, light flattens
to North or East or South or West
the brightness that sun and blue skies bring
on a grey day is suppressed

Tri-Tanka III (light)

Yes, it is morning
But time clings to night time still
and my pen falters
Caught between a moment there
the clarity hides behind

Waiting for the sun

I’m waiting for
the sun to come
now the day
has just begun
It’s warming rays
to lift my soul
and amplify
to make me whole

Woman At The Jetty

A blueberry scarf
is the ring of her neck, a promise
to remain warm when clutched by the chills of love – it’s enough.
Enough to block the ravaging eyes, keep her head
snug and rooted on her shoulders,
keep her mouth speaking foreign languages
and her ears keen.

Scratch of pen

At this early hour a soft caress
as morning greets the day
and gently, with a growing light
pushes night away

A silence reigns, a pinprick fall
with no one else around
so scratch of pen on paper there
barely makes a sound

Like a whisper

Icing sugar on the road
a dusting overnight
the sun glow in the eastern sky
still a glorious sight

Cold there is no doubt of that
minus six and falling
but the crystal air is lovely
on this chilly winter morning

Unsettled

The misty ridden morning
waits like a pendulum in mid swing,
cross and blue, no longer alive,
leopard printed in death’s oily colors.

I untie the souls, with the windows
curving swards bent under the dewy dunes,
haled by dawn’s wet forehead,
no graves have been dug for this.

Clarity III

And the light this morning
emulates a clarity anew
Captured on the coast road
as I pass with clear sea view
Pastel pinks and subtle blue
Oranges and yellow
confirming absolutely that
I am a lucky fellow

The small hours

Five a.m. It’s very quiet
not a sound here to be heard
Just the ticking of the mantle clock
and an early morning bird

Beauty Everywhere

Sun shines bright on Llanishen
which with a leaf here from my book
You can find beauty anywhere
if you just take a look

Son Salutation

Morning dawns
Light sliced into ribbons
Falls delicately upon rumpled sheets

Morning Meditation

Wind whips indiscriminately

Day 30 – Jogs , this Joyous World

​steps, they whistle

in the morning’s birth

steps, they chisel

the Sun from my Earth

Morning Breaks

haiku

Morning breaks praising
happy songbirds greet the dawn
new day awakens

My Favorite Time of Day

I like the time of day when all is still,
The early morning crisp and cool and wet;

Stillness

What is it in the morning calls for stillness?
The tall trees stand composed and at attention.

Sweet Intrepidity

.

Sweet Intrepidity reaching into the depths

Of all I hide, yet all I posses,

Laying bare these fears and suspicions

Collateral damage of volatile visage;

Vast, unbending, Audacity

Beauty Is…

Photo by Doug Hahn

in the silence of a brand new
morning.
Sitting, waiting for the sun – you
absorb
the gentle quiet of dawn, while
secretly

Kew Bridge

I felt like an intruder
at the glory of the dawn
As sun behind the early mist
warmed up the early morn

Matins

.

Whispers in the mists of morn

Sing Lilting Praise

Upon the wind are bourn

Rapturous glimmers of refracting gold

in the belly of Morning

sometimes my dreams arrest me
holding me by the wrists deep in the
belly of the Morning, i use her ribs as
rungs to climb out – i hear the wind sleeping