MindLoveMiserysMenagerie
(shadorma)
rendezvous
merriment echoes
purity
of their love
savouring stolen moments
‘til they meet again
Every Wednesday, they met behind the gate like clandestine lovers. She would bring a picnic basket and he, a bottle of Merlot. She would often giggle like a young teen despite her sixty years in age. It was the only time she felt alive and filled with a sense of hope until her return home to care for her senile brother.
wind blows in her hair
blossoms fall softly on her cheek
from the plum tree
© Tournesol ’16/02/21
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
beautiful, almost whimsical like a modern day fairytale
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Yes, well, I had an idea of a long story but since I put it on this blog I shortened it to fit into the prompt for shadorma and could not help but add a haibun (smiles)
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You haibun well 🙂 that should be a verb, to ‘haibun’ 🙂
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I love to haiku and haibun 😉
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you haiku and haibun well 🙂
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You sonnet even better!!
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Thank you 🙂 though I am not writing as many these days.
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I don’t think I’ve written one in about two or three years
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oh maybe it’s time to dust off the quill and give it a shot 😉
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Haha, the part I wanted to talk about was the old gardener who was spying on the couple, looking through that fence.
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You should do a follow up poem!
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Maybe I will write a story on my other blog anyway.
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go for it! 🙂
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It’s percolating. Had to put that aside to get to a doctors appointment
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I will be on the lookout for it!
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Ah I could see the couple clearly in my mind for the shadorma, your haibun added an unexpected depth to the story. A nice write.
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Thanks, Cara! I hope you had a good weekend and that you were fêter avec amour.
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Sometimes we have choices and other times choices are made for us.
Especially regarding family.
The whole of it works – all the pieces unite in a gentle story.
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You are right and wise as usual, Jules. Sometimes the pieces fit. This is fiction of course but a mixture of truth. I have a great aunt that sacrificed her entire life to take care of her brothers, one especially. She had promised on her mother`s deathbed. Refused marriage and spent her life with him. I always felt sad for her. She had a heart of gold.
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I think more of that was done in those generations that came before us. Now there are government agencies. We have friends who have children in small group homes. But I think not all who are differently abled have the care that they should have.
We also know of a family where the mother had very early onset of dementia and was dutifully taken care of (though in a facility) by her husband who could afford to do so – in a private institution for most of her life. After her death he did have a companion for a bit, but when she passed… well he is still around but I think his own children know that at this point he may need some assistance.
Hearts of gold exist. Bless them.
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yes, times have changed and we are more skilled and knowledgeable in mental health. I think if my great uncle would have lived as a child today, parents would have been better equipped and there are schools to help him. I wrote in the story senile but the truth was he was intellectually impaired. He loved his sister, loved family and company. As a child was hidden by his parents but as an older adult, his sister never hid him, taught him as best she could and he outlived everyone.
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We had a similar situation with someone I knew. The older sister cared for the brother… until her passing. He lived at least ten to maybe even 20 years beyond her.
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