
Blow gentle sea breeze,
free my heart from this torment
call my spirit home

Blow gentle sea breeze,
free my heart from this torment
call my spirit home
Filed under From the heart, Haiku, Inspired emotion, Self compositions

It was no good, I couldn’t rest with that strange looking animal sitting next to my bed. I pushed the lid aside and started to crawl out from under the marble. My visitor showed no sense of alarm, just sat there with his tongue protruding and a silly grin on his face. Shaking the dirt and dust of decades from my shroud I sat beside him and gently patted his head.
“I think you’re a bit late if you’ve come to rescue me. And aren’t you supposed to be a Saint Bernard or something bigger like that. What happened, did you shrink after getting wet in the snow? Your brandy bottle seems to have changed, a little handbag is it nowadays? I suppose that’s down to advances in medical science. After my time in there I think I’ve seen the light so the lantern is a waste as well. Anyway feller, I think it’s time for you to go home, no way are you going to save my life. Should have come around a long time ago for that but Thanks anyway.”
Filed under Flash fiction, Self compositions, Whimsical
the eyeless corpse turns
as the cage swings in the breeze
squawking, the crow flies,
below, wide eyes fill with tears
gazing upon my father
Filed under As you read it, Inspired by fable, Self compositions, Tanka

barely a heartbeat
passing before a mayfly
loses fragile wings
Filed under Factual, Haiku, nature inspired, Self compositions

It was the time of Sennei again. We stand in our lines, along the avenue known as the windwhistle corridor, males to the left, females to the right.
We all lean forward holding our magnificent freshly green head-dresses steady. Having practised our lines for many days we bow low and whisper our self-composed love sonnets in the allocated ear of our chosen intended.
Each of us males has a rival with whom we stand shoulder to shoulder facing a selected female, hoping that the young future brides would choose us. If she cannot make a decision between the two beaus chosen for her then duels will have to take place. The prize, a bride with whom to mate and procreate.
For now, while the breeze is gentle the only sound that the people walking between us would hear is the familiar, soft rustling of the leaves. All oblivious to the seriousness of the ritual taking place above their heads.
If a duel becomes necessary then the pair have to wait until there is a gale. Each tree is lashed against his opponent till one gives way. Some of these duels become quite violent with the occasional loss of limbs, even death by uprooting but this is rare as it would not gain anything for the species only the victor.
Most of the time the females are able to choose the strongest of the pair and accept the gentle brushing of their pistils with our anthers containing the fertilising pollen.
Now the wind plays another important role as the seeds may be carried far away from the avenue to land in another inviting area of ground, take root and at the mercy of the grazing deer or rabbits attempt to start a new plantation of trees. In time they will have their own Sennei in their own avenues.
Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, nature inspired, Self compositions, Whimsical

A Royal wedding
nobility is endowed
a rare achievement.
The world in wonder at the
splendour of the occasion
Filed under Loyal subject, Self compositions, Tanka
For most tattooists
the body is their canvas
art unforgiven
Filed under As you read it, Factual, Haiku, Self compositions
Long ears in the grass
snarling dogs strain at the leash
darkness on the downs
Filed under Factual, Haiku, Inspired emotion, Self compositions

Weary after the strenuous afternoon hike through the hot Greek countryside David and Julie lay down to rest in an effort to escape the relentless Mediterranean sun. David heard his partner’s shallow breathing slowly turn to a gentle snore. He found that he couldn’t sleep, he had the nagging feeling that they were being watched.
Warily he sat up and scanned the valley below. Sure enough, he thought he could see movement. He realised it was an old woman slowly picking her way through the undergrowth. She appeared to be carrying a bundle or basket on her head.
He reached out his left arm and shook Julie gently awake. She remained lying as he pointed out the old woman to her. David thought he would call out and see if the old woman was ok, it was very hot in the afternoon sun. Both of them called out, peering in her direction. There was no reply but they watched her as she started to get closer.
David realised his mistake when he noticed the bundle on her head appeared to be moving. His last thought was disbelief when he saw that her hair was in fact a writhing mass of snakes.
Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, Inspired by fable, Self compositions
Filed under Self compositions, Tanka
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