Haiku for a dead tree

Skinny, bony, bare

branches, twigs, stretched in pale death

amid vibrant green.

Listen to the Universe | A haiku

Be still; half-close your

eyes, and listen to the sound

of the universe.

Scarlet Haiku

A dream in scarlet

twilight gently falls, and blooms

glow with inner light.

A Haiku for Begonias

Deep, intense, vibrant

pink: yellow: words can’t convey

begonia beauty.

A philosophical haiku!

I was here before

you came, and when you are gone

I will still be here.

Some thoughts on haikus . . .

I’m quite new to writing haikus, and here is what started me:

Cyphers is a literary magazine produced here in Dublin. It’s been on the go for around fifty years and has a great reputation. In 2015 I bought this edition, and there I found two wonderful haikus by Lorraine Whelan, which I will include here:

The crimson apple

with bitter chromium leaves

glowed in her pale palm.

and:

The avenue of

neon trees remembers no

specific season.

These haikus stayed in my head for weeks and I re-read them to this day. I began to write them myself then, and took photographs along the river to go with most of them. But I’m not in the same class as Lorraine, or D. W. Peach who posted several beauties last week, together with photographs; I’ll include two of them here – and her picture of her lovely muse!