Tailspin autumn wind, Dry leaves crush under my boots, Spring is far away, Olive trees in full blossom, Pedicured feet in flip flops.
Artwork Olive Trees – Season Autumn Spring -André Claude Monet, 1884.
Dear friends and readers, This is my first tanka poem. I hope that you enjoy it. What is a tanka poem? One may ask.Is it similar to the haiku poem ? A tanka or short poem originates in Japan just like the haiku poem.It is a free verse, 31 syllables poem written in five lines. The basic structure of the tanka is 5-7-5-7-7, whereas the haiku consists of three lines and 17 syllables in a 5-7-5 format. Furthermore, the third line shifts from the imagery in the beginning lines to a reflective metaphor in the closing lines.
Many more tanka poems to come for your eyes only. Thank you for reading.
Spring is the season we most look forward to in London specially after a rigid and cold winter.The budding of flowers is soothing.The air is full of promises as smiles flower on lifeless faces.Spring is my favorite season of the year, and yours too.
Spring here coincides with Sakura, the blooming of the cherry trees, in Japan. The transient yet lovely blossoms that appeal to the heart of every poet have greatly inspired me too . Enjoy!
I am sharing my haiku ‘The plum tree blossoms’ selected as haiku of the week by Japan Society London on 19/04/22 and two other included in their esteem website
In traditional Japanese poetry a kigo is a word associated with a season. Nowadays poets mostly outside Japan do not use a kigo as a must when writing haiku poetry. I think that a kigo adds a streak of romanticism in haiku poems for the simple reason that we and our moods are ruled by seasons.
THE BUTTERFLY I sit by my window, I behold a magic butterfly! A rainbow butterfly! Gorgeous hues of red, blue, indigo, Orange, green, heavenly mauve, Immaculate yellow, Fluttering loftily, Flying stealthily, Flirting with sweet flowers so lovely! A discreet kiss on the lips of the white pansy, A soft caress on the dahlia’s cheek, A gentle stroke on the red nose of the poppy! Hibiscus, violets, Budding marigolds, Chuckle and open their folds, Engrossed by the magic butterfly! A fragrant red rose, Spreads her velvety petals, Lingers and whimpers! In the wilderness, disappears the magic butterfly!
With a magic splash of fresh paints, Trees and plants Grim and dark, With a spark Into emerald green, are changed, Donned is the sky in glistening blue, Splendid and meek, the golden sun Flirts jauntily, Budding flowers kissing delicately Coaxing beauty in the fun; As spring plays with colors, With the melodious songs of birds, With the waltz of cheery butterflies, With the noble heart of man, New hopes, like fresh petals unbolt, Blossoming gaily in the garden of life.
Sunday lunch in a friendly bistro, On the outskirts of Brussels; A hanging smell of blubber, Roast, mash and stew, A man in an old over-coat, Others in woollies and stoles, Silently bent on their plates, In their eyes, hope twinkles and smiles, Shafts of sunlight Break through closed windows, Heralds the onset of spring; Like man, Nature too is keen on change. A new coat, cheerful and light, A scarf painted with colors, beautiful and bright.
Photo Credit: Anita Bacha.
I lived in Belgium for some time, more particularly,in Brussels for work and in Linkebeek with family and friends. I love the Belgian people both the French and the Flemish. I adore the food. I have left a piece of my heart in Belgium and I entertain the sincere wish of going back one day when the Spring breaks through.