No more the sweet scent
of lavender and jasmine
Summer memories
No more the sweet scent
of lavender and jasmine
Summer memories
Filed under Haiku, Seasons, Self compositions, Uncategorized
Bronze
beaten shields
A God’s gift
seen in Autumn leaves
Civilisation
Filed under Seasons, Self compositions, Uncategorized
Filed under General post, Seasons, Self compositions, Uncategorized

Just below the surface of the fast-flowing stream he lay waiting. Below the bubbles and foam the water was clear and cool, he could see all the way up to the steel-grey rocks ahead. He had waited here for many days, occasionally rising to the surface, looking upstream, judging the depth over the first stone. This morning was different, in the dark he had felt the raindrops crashing into the waters inches above his head. Now it had stopped but long experience and instinct told him that further up the valley where he would be heading there would be a rush as all the small streams emptied their collected waters into the river in which he lay. It took many hours but soon the level would start to rise and he could attempt to make his way further up. He would try to be early at the spawning ground, this year he was stronger and larger, his red-flushed flanks were brighter than the last throws of the sunset. His hooked jaw curved over his upper lip, making it impossible to feed. He was starving but he did not have time to feed on the juicy maggots, flies and morsels that drifted lazily over his head. He was only concerned with finding one of the many spawning females, ready to woo and persuade her to release her eggs into the sand in order that he might spray them with his milt. This would be his dying gift to the river, a new batch of young salmon to clean and purify the waters before they departed on their long journey downstream to where the river flowed into the dark sea and set off on their three year journey before they too returned to the place of their birth.
Filed under Flash fiction, Self compositions, Uncategorized
I feel your touch
like a feather on my hand
and miss you Mother
Filed under Haiku, Self compositions, Uncategorized
“Jeez man, I’m not trying to be funny but what’s with the dark glasses? Is it part of the uniform, you want to look cool or are you frightened of being recognised. I guarantee I’m not here to take photos of you so that we can target you. I’m just getting some shots of the cavalcade.”Filed under Flash fiction, Self compositions, Whimsical
Oberammergau,
decennial passion play
Celebrating Christ
Filed under Christian, Haiku, Self compositions, Uncategorized
Snipers lie in wait,
drones soar high above the sands.
Another ambush
Filed under Haiku, Self compositions, Uncategorized
Overhead she waits
soaring on her silent wings
while below life fades
I was once the King of the mountain. My voice echoed down the glens and valleys. My brides eagerly awaited my caresses. Now I am alone, a usurper has taken my throne. My strength flows to the ground in a crimson stream. I am weak and all I wish to do is rest. Yet I cannot, I am old and tired. Betrayed by my own four, once sure, feet. The voice of a new champion rings out, incessant, challenging, mocking. It will soon be time.
A meal is waiting
this story can only end
in a lonely death
Filed under Self compositions, Uncategorized
The balloon soars high
all the waiting is over
up to the heavens
Checking the pressurised suit
ready for freefall descent
Filed under General competitions, Self compositions, Tanka
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