wisteria pods

With a mouse-trap snap
a wisteria pod splits
spraying bullet seed

 

I was pottering in the garden today and mulching around some wisteria that I grew from collected seed last year. It reminded me of this haiku I wrote last winter.  I had left the wisteria pods on a window sill in a plastic bag, and then forgotten about them. A few weeks later I was startled by sudden bangs and snaps, and found the splitting pods had shredded the bag and sent the seeds across the room!  

silent relic II

For the dVerse “midsummer live” prompt:

A silent relic
recalls bright midsummer songs
through winter darkness.

 

Not live, but rushed to you only a few hours later.   😀
Looking forward to the return of dVerse after your summer break!

…and there were lilies: VI Belladonna

The last in the “and there were lilies series” – the epilogue to last year’s “jubilate lilium“.
I’ve never had much luck with the classic pink “naked lady” lily, but the white one could be a bridal bouquet all on it’s own.

 

Summer’s parting gift –
a bouquet tossed over her
shoulder as she leaves.

hawk

This is for Frank’s Haikai challenge #176: Hawk, and also in response to Dwight’s “The King”.  

 Hunger rides the wind,
watching for the flicker of
small life far below. 

bastion…

…the view from outside.

For the other part of Frank’s double challenge this week: “Democracy”

The neighbours listen
to the screams and banging of
domestic violence
coming from the home of the
self-proclaimed world’s policeman.

The democracy show

The world is watching,
voyeurs, eagerly waiting
for episode 2.

…and there were lilies: I. tigers

Last year I put in lots of lily bulbs, and offered up a prayer on planting them. They have flowered spectacularly, and the possums have not found them (although the pig ate a few). Beginning at the end with my favourites, the tigers:

 

Burning tigers smile
and nod their heads, approving
of the summer rain.

summer solstice

In response to Frank’s Haikai challenge, my first tanka (hope I got the form right):

As the sun rises
a million cicadas wake,
and start drumming their
fifteen-hour crescendo
to celebrate the solstice

and a haiku:

The longest day fits
neatly with the shortest night.
How well organised!

shit haiku

Inspired by (the title, anyway) of Nick’s shit haiku, and shovelling manure from my neighbour’s paddock:

Fermented grass scent
twines over the paddocks where
horse-apples abound.

Llama-pellet pile
scents the morning air with smell
of smoky-bacon.

Which brought back memories of my childhood:

Another cowpat
flies through the air. Quick, run!
Grandma is coming!

and finally, let me share a family saying passed down through the generations:

Groaning and clenching,
bang on the door. “Shit faster!
The bear is coming!”

Spring haiku

Despite a last snap of winter’s teeth and a flurry of snow on the weekend, the first day of spring is definitely very springy!

morning haiku I

The windchime clatters,
thunder growls around the house –
winter come prowling.

The morning commute:
(hooray for isolation!)
bring laptop to bed.

Thanks Vixen of Verse, for the inspiration!