Our animals claim
Us for every moment shared
Then leave us only –
Broken, tearful, and lonely,
Because they became family.
***
Love is a wolf cub
Crying as its growth begins,
Howling when in need.
***
The darkest places
Only need a candle to
Bring them into light.
***
I counted all the things –
Realized what was most wanted
Could be found inside.
***
Know, nothing can stop
Those who believe impossible
Describes possibilities.
***
The woman who gives
Herself to others away –
Will need herself back.
***
Choose expenditures
With care as they determine
Future realities
***
The dawn swells before
It births into brilliant light,
Dispelling the night.
***
I imagine dreams
Of extraordinary things –
A life of love brings.
***
Two lives returning
To things once thought over, done,
Are newly begun.
***
Nothing unreal as
Doubt or fear can cause harm if
We refuse it room.
***
The roar of applause
Will hardly greet an entrance
But the wind may howl
With glee when outside we meet
Strangers making harmony.
***
I loved you from when
Until now and know somehow
I will love you then –
Loving you is forever,
Always, and with you again.
***
I do not know why
Rain reminds me of the time
When you were still mine.
***
I washed away stains
Left when the day departed,
The tears quite a waste.
***
If the sun’s light grows,
We must remember ourselves
Before love can show.
***
Broken building blocks
On the site of construction,
Foundation unsound.
***
We wanted to be
Living in each other’s skin,
But could not begin.
***
You bypassed my mind
Dove straight into the open
Space within my heart,
I became willing captive
Of your voracious desire.
***
They said, “You cannot,”
I flinched not believing it,
I continued to
Do whatever I could do –
No one can limit the truth.
***
These were haiku and tanka. I like counting syllables. It suits me, particularly with my relationship with arithmetic. Haiku are three lines 5-7-5 syllables. Tanka are five lines 5-7-5-7-7 syllables. If you have watched me a while, you might have noticed I join these in longe poems. I love a seven-syllable line, there is an endless possibility there. All this is play, just noodling, like doodles. It keeps me locked in time, that can be a challenge.
As a prompt, should you wish, write your own. Be warned, they can be addictive.
Haphazard Creative 