The Poet's Haiku Year January began Cold pen and blank page await Still snow ideas Stirred the first lines now In February harsh storms Broken like rain cloud And March on again First blossoms emerged, renewed Thoughts flowed, warmth's return April showered words Spilling as fattened rain drops A deluge savoured May it hurt the heart That in fulsome spring display Flowers yet to die And when June arrived The bees hummed poetic sound Happy in days long July constant beat Incessant heat cloudless skies Parched the empty word An August claim here At summer's protracted end My best work, perhaps? But September judged Chill wind and sad bowing tree Hah! No more new leaf At autumn's shrill call October ushered bare branch Life's sad fall, scattered The frost held my ink Unseen scratched words on blank page November frozen Until December Year end and promises made More words will follow.
