New haiku

progressively
less yellow &
more white

owing to snow
the beauty of the mountains
the wild pearl

leaves rustle
interrupts
with each step
the thoughts

desert sands …
lone star twinkles
on an ancient sky

old umbrella
leans against the wall
recovered from the rain

New haiku

funnelling winds
taking another look
at the moon

The fruit grove
among fallen leaves
scent  of harvest

new moon .
a flicker of light
embracing darkness

a huge Tsunami –
only every year
cherry blossom

not yet winter ..
my hands turn red
further and further

fragile beauty

During the past three years since I have turned my hand to the Japanese forms of haiku, tanka  I have met the most amazing people who, daily, touch me with their words, their wisdom and their acts of kindness and generosity. Through them, my world has,   larger, and definitely richer.

My tanka

below
crunching snow
underfoot
 a stray dog bares his teeth
to the moon

first snow
breathes warm
melancholy
on the frosted glass
of my memory.

cold fog
trembling wings
of butterfly
excursions into the unknown
from some fairy tale

New haiku

morning stroll…
the elusive scent
of the autumn

alone
cry of a bird
first snow

Japanese Garden
taste of autumn lingers
among the rocks

Spoon sweets
the light touch
of your words

grilled fish –
the slow unravelling
of bones

New haiku

roaring sea
a lone fisherman
crosses himself

the imagined -
in soft moonlight
her a spell

the illusion -
look at alone
two moons

through the fog
the groundless optimism
to manoeuvre

morning walk
sweet song of a bird
my words

The autumn

morning stroll…
the elusive scent
of the autumn

 attractive...
only a dangerous gleam
in your eyes

 somehow
the changing shades
nonstop

 drizzle 
and shine -
invites through open door

 my dog and I
an exchange of glances
attracts

 life is good...
get all the answers
in a sleep

New haiku

clouds..
white chrysanthemums
without fragance

no words
for shade, which
fells on me

first snow...
new sensation
of life

autumn twilight
mingling with the sound
of  wind in pines

autumn twilight
color of withered fields
damp-smelling

morning
empty chairs
facing the TV

at my feet
so sharp ...
cemetery grass

New haiku

inch by inch
creeps across the terrace
shadows

morning dew
creeps across the leaf
the snail

the rainbow
lingers in the air
smell rain

a  souvenir
today in my pocket
autumn sunshine

on the horizon
shifting shapes
to and fro to and fro

New haiku

ehoes of rain --
wet socks
in my pocket

first frosts .
the scent of death
of chrysanthemum

feeling of fall..
rain punctures
the silence

morning fog---
slippery footsteps
in an unknown

Hurricane Matthew --
personal items
through a flooded street

on her saree
wrapped in morning light
scent of roses