Unfurl

Creeping vine
T'ward sunlight curl
Entwining branch
In tangled whorl
While newborn ferns
Reach and unfurl
Midst shafting forest light

© Strauss
9th May 2007

One Breath Haiku and Tanka - Sleep

Well, the first one wasn't tooooooooo bad for a first attempt, so I thought I would chance a second attempt. This week's One Deep Breath prompt is - Sleep.

Haiku
restless in caves.
green slivers pierce snow.
bears stir.

© Strauss
7th May 2007

I thought I would have a go at the Tanka too. I have never tried one of these. I am happy to be learning these new styles.

Tanka
Smiles of relief
Mother collapses in chair
Dishes in sink
Steam swirls from a coffee mug
Children finally asleep.

© Strauss
7th May 2007

Haiku - One Deep Breath - The Sea

This is my first attempt of a Haiku. I have learnt a bit about them from The One Deep Breath site. This weeks prompt is "The Sea". I thought I would have a go, so bear with me :)

Bright sun, beach clamour.
Grey skies, lone vacant beach. Breathe.
Listen to wave songs.

Strauss
3 May 2007

The Bluff

The Bluff stands tall ;
Rising like an ancient warrior
From fertile coastal plains.
Proud and sturdy
Against the tumultuous sea.

The stoic Bluff;
Bearer of unrelenting lashings
And vicious attacks
From angry waters churning below
Striking hard against unyielding granite footings.

The south wind thrusts
Its merciless breath
Tousling squat grasses
And wild geraniums
That tremble with the scraping gale.

Summit yearnings
Require fortitude
But jubilation awaits the brave
And unsurpassed seascapes
transfix initially reluctant ramblers.

Encounter Bay curves gently, east
A sandy beach hugs the coastline,
Like lemon frosting on a delectable cake;
The white teeth of broken waves
bite hungrily into the shoreline.

With disciplined eyes
One can trace the edge of the world
Until far-flung sea mists
Blur the horizon
Blending land, sea and sky, into one.

There is nothing south of The Bluff
But a million miles of sea
and eventually ice.
The Bluff is enduring.
The Bluff stands tall.

© Strauss
14th April 2007

Vapour maiden

To the tilting sway of ocean lullabies,
He stood aloft his creaking vessel.
Immersed in maritime harmonies,
And the rhythm of cresting waves,
He was hushed, like a babe in tender arms.

He waited for her at the bow;
Patient like a returning soldier's lover.
His eyes scoured the heavens
and panned the entirety of a lavender horizon,
until she revealed her form.

Light reflections
and atmospheric mood
determine her appearance;
But today,
Under endless skies, she wore white.

A mass of rumpled petticoats
spill from under her skirts.
They billow with the memory of sweet promises;
revealing themselves as silver threads
embroidered into the hem.

A crown of sunbeams strain through soft tresses;
cirrus wisps trailing behind her.
But with eyes cast down,
She appeared despondent,
For a vapour maiden's life is fleeting.

He gazed upon his illusive vision
until her windswept fate over came her;
smearing her luminous features,
and swallowing her subtle radiance
And gentle form.

Her vanishing breaks the spell cast over him.
Their brief interlude is like a window to her world;
A world where the sea meets the sky at the horizon
And should he choose to follow her,
A vapour maiden who will lead him safely home.

Last Years Leaves

Like bronze organza scraps
Upon a seamstresses floor;
Discarded pieces
Swept into a disused corner;
Creativity's after-thought
-They have no purpose now.

Old leaves,
Barely visible,
Trapped along the fence line
Scuttled along by the wind,
The drift of melting snow,
And time.

In another life,
they gleamed.
Strong fresh vibrant;
Leathery and green.
A fibre now dulled;
Their chlorophyll hues, drained.

Threadbare and fragile,
They lay in clusters;
Mere ghosts of their former selves.
The emerald life blood has retreated
Evaporated...been absorbed;
While new life sprouts above.

© Strauss
27th March 2007

Migration

The giant silver bird yawns.
I, and hundreds of others,
Transported in its gullet;
A belly full of dreams.

Expectant eyes wide
To new surroundings.
All six senses sensing,
The foreign.

I have been here but a day,
Drifting like Eve on the first morn
And yet,
It could have been six months.

Falls cool, grey reproach;
Yellow foliage
Crunching under foot,
Have Disappeared.

Replaced instead,
By endless breezy blue;
A canopy of frilly, cherry blush;
And petal strewn pathways.

The birds that flew north for winter
Now present themselves right here.
The journey having transformed them though.
Is this where they all go?

All in a single afternoon.

© Strauss
21/3/2007