I read this quote at The Muscleheaded Blog. A lovely quote by none other than Robert Burns. What a nice segeway into Valentine’s Day, non? Must one be in love or in a relationship at this time to be reminded of past loves, paramours and blissful pleasures of the past? I don’t think so. And so I decided to write a Troiku about those pleasure moments that are sometimes short-lived. Now look deeply into that photo as you read into his thoughts:
poppies spread pleasure tokens prised I shan’t forget
imprints a mark of love
and then it scars
pleasure tokens prised
precious moments revisits
blushing every time
I shan’t forget
tomorrows shall be laced,
When Georgia mentioned this was the theme at CP yesterday, I read the prompt, thought about writing another haiku (which I still may) but liked the theme of forgotten love rather than war in this troiku as well.
I remember accompanying my friend on a business trip to New York City in 2001. I had not been to Manhattan since I was a child. I was amazed how it had changed and it was so clean. During the morning Jake was at his convention and we would meet later mid afternoon. One afternoon we went to The Plaza for high tea in the Palm Court. It was truly an experience, he said, I just had to see. The waiters were elegantly dressed and walked like they were actually floating slightly above the floor; there was a musician playing the violin in the middle of the court. It was quite impressive. It was like walking into a 1950’s movie…well, for me anyway.
We sat on the elegant chairs and waited to be served. We had arrived a bit late however and no one was in a mad rush to serve us. I enjoyed listening to the music and observing people who seemed accustomed to this kind of attention. I wonder if my wide eyes and open mouth threw them off…the waiters, I mean. Oh well, at $25 a person for a slice of cake and a cuppa we decided since it was almost five o’clock, we would go up to The Rose Club for happy hour and I had the best Manhattan I had ever had. The patrons were certainly more sociable. And that was my experience with High Tea at The Plaza.
sip tea from fine china,
December 23rd, the temperatures rose over 10 degrees Celsius. It was springtime weather at the end of December. Two days of rain cleaned the streets, sullied snow banks and melted most of the snow. Makes it doubly hard for half-doubters..one of my three grandsons… to still believe but painstaking stories, Crosby’s songs and want-to-believe children makes it still happen…one more year.
born from melted snow
To follow the mood of this prompt at Carpe Diem, our host has discussed the symbiosis of the birch tree and the mistletoe. Of course when one thinks of mistletoe, we are reminded of kissing during the Christmas holidays.
morning dew evaporates in the early sunlight spirit climbs to the sky
I love our host’s haiku because it reminds me of my GrandPapa who passed June 17th during the day. I don’t remember if it was morning but the “morning dew” makes me think of the river where we were brought up and where my grandfather died in his home.
The dove is often represented in “death” but its significance is more personal to me. In French the translation for “dove” is Colombe which is my mother’s name.
I love daisies. I feel connected to this flower as the petals represent the multiplicity of my personality. The layer of petals beneath the top layer are facets to be discovered throughout a lifetime. I remember, when working in homecare, how sad I would feel when a client passed. Weeks and months caring for a person in their homes was humbling for them and such a loss when they died. After a few years, I wrote to my supervisor that I could no longer continue working in this department for each person who died, I felt a petal from the daisy fall. If I continue, what will be left of me?
Here is my attempt in writing a haiku with this tone of “death poems”: