secret spring
a wild iris bends towards
the light
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: symbol
secret spring
a wild iris bends towards
the light
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: symbol
aerial roots
the light touch
of your words
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: roots
luminous garden
why then is the full fish moon
wrapped in cloud?
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: garden
velvety feel
of the charcoal drawing –
butterfly wings
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: visual arts
.
hourglass the hole in my pocket
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: time
storks’ nest
the chimney sweep
holds his breath
.
Kernelsonline, Premier edition, Spring 2013

l
Earth Day
the leaf mold worm
coiling up
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: wheel (and Earth Day)
granny’s headscarf
scent of lavender
in the fold lines
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: clothing
Horsehead Nebula –
music of the spheres echoes
through the lyre
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: music
For Horsehead Nebula see here
.
broken street lights
a mobile phone rings
and rings
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: dark
oiling shears –
the gardener’s
creaky knees
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: antique (old)
Tokoyo no Kuni –-
is mushroom haiku ever
out of season?
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: mushroom
For information about Tokoyo no Kuni see here
1
choosing
the freedom of the fields –
wildflower
2
not minding that
they are not welcome –
weeds
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: wildflower
.
dreaming at the back of my mind stories from my childhood
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: alley
cleaning the pond –
layers of last year’s
seasons
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: pond
first poppies —
watching this kid paint
a frown
.
nhwm prompt: clown
‘The Price of Youth’ appears in Contemporary Haibun Online, April 2013, vol 9, no 1 and can be read by clicking here
The text is also copied below:
The Price of Youth
The hairdresser swirls and swings her ample hips to the music, her flesh quivering. I catch my reflection in the mirror, lips hanging downwards, and shocked, I make a conscious effort to lift the corners of my mouth. She swipes a hand-held mirror like a credit card behind my head, beaming, proud of her work. I smile back spontaneously, pleased with her work too.
young again
this old seed-head approaches
a new year
‘Seasons’ appears in Contemporary Haibun Online, April 2013, vol 9, no 1 and can be read by clicking here
It can also be read below:
Seasons
His eyes sweep the coffee table, taking in the piles of books, the envelopes, the dust. For a moment, I regret I didn’t put them away earlier, didn’t polish the surfaces.
His gaze returns to rest on me calmly, as if he hadn’t been collecting information for our younger colleagues to talk about. I recall one of the others telling me he’d noticed I kept an atlas on my desk for seven years. What of it? What else could I do before Google maps?
We, the older generation, have become something to be observed, monitored, talked about. She writes haiku, they say, raising their eyebrows knowingly, exchanging glances. She’s aged…
I remember how we watched our children and our friends’ children, amused ourselves with their quirkiness, their funny ways, we mimicked their manner of speech; we wondered at the milk teeth, marvelled at their rate of growth. Now they amuse themselves observing us. We meant well, and so do they, I am sure.
the Earth revolves
round its axis –
rhododendrons again
My haibun “Homewards” appears in Haibun Today and can be read by clicking here
Vol.7, No. 1, March 2013
It can also be found below:

Homewards
The garden at the back of the Edwardian terrace which is my London home is small but compact. A Magnolia Grandiflora Exmouth grows in its middle, a variety that keeps its glossy, oblong leaves in winter and blossoms in summer. White, deliciously fragrant flowers grace the tree unfailingly, giving me hours of pleasure upon my return from my European excursions. But the neighbor complains about the tree shading her garden. Each year I chop off branches to keep her happy. Each year I dread hearing from her.
sunlight
a dove crosses
the border
.
For Journal publications in 2012 and earlier, please click in the drop-down menu.
.
*
autumn river
I count the moonbeams
on his hair
.
in BluePrintReview, issue 30, in/stance(s), April 2013
*
train whistle in the distance deer tracks
.
in BluePrintReview, issue 30, in/stance(s), April 2013
*
city in winter –
loneliness sweeps through
the terraces
.
in BluePrintReview, issue 30, in/stance(s), April 2013
*
rumours –
rush of water
over stone
.
in BluePrintReview, issue 30, in/stance(s), April 2013
*
grilled fish –
reducing the moon’s glare
.
in BluePrintReview, issue 30, in/stance(s), April 2013
*
chicken broth
the slow unravelling
of time
.
in NFTG, January 2013
in BluePrintReview, issue 30, in/stance(s), April 2013
*
lavender moon the weight of a butterfly
.
in BluePrintReview, issue 30, in/stance(s), April 2013
in Haiku News forthcoming
.
*
first haiku
soothing fragrance
of green tea
.
in BluePrintReview, issue 30, in/stance(s), April 2013
Prose and Poetry – Please scroll down
*
chicken broth
the slow unravelling
of time
.
In Notes from the Gean 15: January 2013
at the back of my retina Plato’s cave
.
.
glass slipper
yet my frog poem
finds no prince
in Notes From The Gean, p15 and 45, NFTG April 2013
stomach rumblings
the symposium
running overtime
.
NHWM prompt: sound
illusion in red my dress is a poppy
.
red faced again
poppies
.
NHWM prompt: red
Delighted to see the new issue of Frogpond, the Journal of the Haiku Society of America, 36-1, Spring 2013, in my letterbox. Among great haiku, senryu, haibun, essays and reviews a nice surprise: in the section “Briefly Reviewed” a positive note on my own book “In the Garden of Absence”!
The review can be read by clicking here (please scroll down)
Morston Marsh
a bowl of mussels
by the fire
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: favorite place
dark matter
the blank stare
of my tortoises
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: celestial
Evros Delta –
feeding in the wetlands
spring migrants
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: delta
.
For Evros Delta see here
woodfire sparks –
sound of the front gate
closing
.
NahaiWriMo prompt: empty/emptiness
.
an angel’s trumpet lingers in my ear smooth jazz
.
NaHaiWriMo prompt: smooth