Here's this week's heap of haikus:

Outside mom's window
the trees noiselessly rustled
as she fought for life.

My mom passed away in 2012, just a week shy of her 94th birthday.  She would have been 96  years old today.  Here she is in 2011 just before turning 93.

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March to diff'rent drums,
waltz to other violins,
but by all means, move ...

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Swimming with the tide
may take you into oceans
of profound regret.
 

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They were delicate
negotiations, therefore
clean doilies were used.
 
 
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I believe that what
most reveals your nature is
how much you can laugh.

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Do not focus on
the follies of your youth, but
how you overcame them.

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tanka haiku:

 
A wilted flower's
not a metaphor for your
Life, it's a warning:

When you remove yourself from
what nurtures you ... game over.
 
 
Bonus companion poem:
 (To the tune of When You Wish Upon a Star)

When you wilt upon a table,
you won't blossom, you're not able.
Try to flower and you'll find
your roots have all been left behind.
 

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I may meander
through some fields and forests, but
I’ll find my way home.
 

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Up hills and down dales,
I expand my horizons ...
plagued by my sore feet.

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Nantucket lightships
cast their beams out to the sea;
“Warning! Rocky Shoals!”
 
 

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Stashed behind the soups
in her kitchen pantry was
the choc’late cake mix.

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Sometimes we forget;
before we ski down mountains,
we first must climb them.
 

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Blessed are those that
never got sick, for old age
will be a surprise.
 

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Purgatory? The
hell of it is, you can't get
heavenly coffee.
 

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On rainy mornings,
I sip my coffee and read.
The dog nuzzles me.
 

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In their lonely rooms,
writers peck their keyboards, 'til
inspiration strikes!

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Siamese twins are
conjoined. Why are Siamese
kittens just confused?

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Her cat likes to play;
it hides under the bed, and
stalks her pink slippers.
 
 
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Two ladies speaking
rapidly and in Spanish,
drown out my iPod.

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In the morning fog,
the field beyond seems painted
with watercolors.

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Harmonizing with
his mates kept the mood bright and
his life in accord.
 

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I remain in awe
of the lives that have touched mine.
Each brought a lesson.

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A slice of apple,
a wedge of sharp cheddar cheese,
And a well-worn book.
 

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Deep in the forest,
patches of stippled sunlight,
warm a leaf-strewn trail.
 
 
 
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We search for meaning,
but as we wander through Life,
fog envelops us.
 
 
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Sunday; Wear sweatshirt,
Nurse a big mug of coffee,
and read the Funnies.
 
 
 
---
 
 
 
Do you spend your days
mopping up calamities?
or creating them?

 
 
---

 
 
Will you ever wake?
Or will you dream forever?
Will you ever know?

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His Siamese cat
sits at the window, and stares
at distant mountains.

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Cats and melon balls;
a recipe for hi-jinks ...
and sticky felines.
 

 
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Mary had a lamb,
And little though it was, it
started stalking her.

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The overhead pipes
look like bloated spaghetti ...
ceiling al dente.

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double haiku:

Old woman shuffles
Guy with beard argues on phone
Youngster bounces ball

Small bird pecks and hops
Delivery boy parks his bike ...
This sidewalk sees all.

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tanka haiku:

The curve of her waist,
the creases of her smile, the
wisdom in her thoughts.

She slowly consumed all his
waking moments ... then, his dreams.

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Eschewing sunsets,
he loved the subtler hues
of mid-afternoon.

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Each dusk he watched the
darkening sky's shifting shades;
blue-ish indigo.
 

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Too few epistles
twixt clover and thistle, but
many a whistle.

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double haiku:
 
Jiggling joggers
waiting for the light to change
bouncing up and down
 
When the light turns green,
a pony-tailed tsunami
sweeps across the street.

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By a waterfall,
The lovers had a picnic ...
ev’rything got wet.

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This old vaudevillean
honed his act to perfection
and always got laughs.

One of my faves from my childhood, Gene Sheldon.  He appeared on Ed Sullivan and other variety shows a lot during the Fifties. He did the same exact act with only slight variations for years, but it was such good shtick, it always got laughs. 

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