Soft Pink Petals – Prose w/Haiku

A poet’s worst fear:  We’re on our way to the grocery.  You’re happily driving us along – grocery list in your shirt pocket under your sweater.  I’d decided just to take my small coin clutch.  We pass several blooming cherry trees.  Just lovely!  When you stop at a red light, I’m able to get a good view of a cluster of the cherry trees and think how Japanese and so beautiful they look.  And then – sigh – the word Haiku came into my head!  What? I don’t have my purse so I don’t have my small notebook or a pen.  I don’t panic I simply begin saying a poem aloud.  When I finish:

Me: That’s probably not a haiku but I can’t count and remember the words hmmmm.

You:  And the form isn’t right.

Me:  What?!  Please don’t talk to me will you pass me the grocery list and your pen?

Eventually, you manage to and I write down the words:

Haiku For Now
I saw the cherry trees
and their soft pink petals I felt
falling into my heart. (EWI)

I’m counting the syllables and you’re pulling into the Trader Joe’s parking lot.

Me:  Oh great!  It’s a perfect 17 words. Hahaha.  It’s a great poem but it’s not a haiku.

We both frown and do the grocery.  I carefully guard the shopping list.  When we got home, I fooled with the 17 words and got it down to 17 syllables.  Yay me!  And not only that but I think it really is quite possibly the first real haiku I’ve ever written.  Goes like this:

Soft Pink Petals
I saw cherries bloom
and felt their soft pink petals
fall into my heart. (ellespeth)

I’m fairly certain – in my mind’s heart – that that is a haiku.  Fairly…

Now I have to go help unpack grocery.


A May Getaway & A Yurt Experience

Oh!  A long spring week-end in the woodsy Sierra Foothills very soon awaits us  And…we found a yurt for rent that we can afford!  ( “yurt.”  = A large, round semi-permanent tent with vertical walls and conical roof) To the left is a picture of the outside..even a front porch!


      That’s   part of the inside    —–>

With a little skylight in the center and a full kitchen behind that left wall…and the foothills all blooming spring wild flowers and the quiet stillness all around us.

We’ll hike and cook and just not do much at all.  Yay!  We’re so ready for this.  I’ll try to be patient.  It’s a few weeks away…


Those Bare Parts – A Poem and some important thoughts

Those Bare Parts (final.1)
There are bare parts
we don’t reveal
even to a lover.
Somewhere should record these parts
just in case we need them
in the future


I’ve been trying to decide where to focus my blog. It’s taken over a year. Originally, I was just going to post these short things of a day in my life. Then I saw that people were posting poetry on WordPress. Oh dear! So I thought:
Well, I’ll go on and post a few poems and mix those all in with those short daily things about my life. And then, of course came the Cajun Recipe tangent I go off on now and then. How could I deny that?
So tonight I’m tired. I can’t sleep. I’m facing editing nightmares because of bits and pieces I’m discovering on my desktop. (I posted about that earlier today) I’m listening to one of the Celtic Women CD’s on my whatever cloud thing you’ve put up for me.
I think I have discovered where to focus my blog:
Blogging a poet’s mind while writing and how every sight and sound and breath of every day becomes the poem? So there! That is what I have decided to do. I’m not sure exactly how I’m going to do this but do this I will.
I’m tired. Celtic Women now singing Danny Boy…sigh…I have so much to say about so many pieces and parts of life. There are bare parts – of each of us – that we don’t even share with a lover. Somewhere should be recorded these parts. Maybe here…is what I mean about the poet’s mind this poem came when I wrote the words bare parts:

Those Parts (1.1)
There are bare parts
of each of us
that we don’t even share with a lover.
Somewhere should record these parts
just in case we need them
in the future