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Posts Tagged ‘haiku’

Red-eared slider

My morning walk these days takes me through our local City Park that skirts the bayou and also nestles a pond where there are rumors of a lurking gator. This little guy, about 12 inches or so, had his nose in the air and was totally still, allowing me to come close for a photo.

I like turtles. I love to see them lined up on a log sunning themselves. I was researching a poetry book a few years ago and discovered that turtles often ramble up on the top of a gator without a care. Turtles can live a long time in the wild, unless the gator is hungry for turtle soup.

Today, be inspired by this little turtle to write a small poem in the comments. Support other writers with encouragement. Thanks for stopping by.

Bayou-side slider
still as a stone statue
red-ear beams on point
Margaret Simon, draft

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Staghorn Fern at the New Orleans Botanical Gardens

Yesterday I toured the New Orleans Botanical Gardens with my sister who drove from Baton Rouge to spend the day with me. I am here babysitting my grandson who is in his last days of kindergarten.

Beth and I were fascinated by these magnificent ferns. They are epiphytic ferns that thrive in humid environments. I am wondering how one would do in my own bayou-side yard.

Being fascinated by words, I love how the name of this fern is a metaphor for the shape of its leaves. Their fronds look like antlers.

Today’s photo poem is a haiku. Please consider writing alongside me in the comments. Support other writers with encouraging comments.

With outstretched green horns
mounted like taxidermy
strong yet supported

Margaret Simon, draft

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

My grandson Leo is in first grade. Wait? What? Time flies, doesn’t it? He is a little sponge absorbing all of the learning. He doesn’t even realize how fast he is developing his verbal skills, but as a teacher and proud grandmother, I am keenly aware.

His mother has always been good about thank you notes. She’s passing that on to her children. He wrote me a thank you note for his Easter gift, but he wrote it on the envelope and put another envelope inside it for me to write back.

His misspelling of thank you to “think you” charmed my husband to say, “You should write him a think you note.”

Who knows if our correspondence will continue, but I wrote him a note about what I was thinking about. (I should have taken a photo.) And enclosed a self-addressed envelope.

Leo’s “think” you note

I am writing poetry this month with Ethical ELA. Today’s prompt from Sharon Roy inspired us to write haiku about reading. I am reading Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. It’s my book companion when I can’t sleep, so I found this haiku.

Through my sleeplessness
gravity of rivers flow
hidden life below.

The Progressive Poem is with Irene Latham, originator of the idea, at Live Your Poem.

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Out of Ashes by Beth S.

This art piece was lying on my sister’s kitchen counter. I picked it up and asked her about it. She said she found some charred wood outside from her outdoor fireplace and experimented with it. She then came inside and added more definition to the flowers with ink. She titled the piece “Out of Ashes.”

I often wonder where our creativity comes from. How sometimes the simplest things can become profound. (My One Little Word this year is Simplicity.)

I played with a haiku form today. Another seemingly simple short form. Out of simplicity, grace.

Out of Ashes

From burnt wood shavings
Flowers grow from buried seeds
Finding breath enough

Margaret Simon, draft

Please write a small poem today and leave it in the comments. Respond to other writers with encouragement and kindness.

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Denver Mural, photo by Mary Lee Hahn

Finding writing inspiration in the murals of Denver, this one took me two days to write, so I am posting on Thursday (rather than Wednesday) with a note about my process. I am experiencing some frustration with writing these days.

Yesterday when I looked at this image, I wrote “Her braid/ like a river/ binding her/ to the land.” I waited to see if something more would come to me.

Today I decided to play more with syllables and consider different articles (a river or a desert?) (binds her to her land or this land?)

I typed up the post and came back to it later. Sometimes the smallest of poems pose the hardest challenge.

Her braid, blue like sky,
like river in a desert
binds her to this land
.

Margaret Simon, draft

If you find inspiration in this image, please write a small poem in the comments. Support other writers with your responses.

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Patricia Franz has the Poetry Friday Round Up today.

Some of my Inkling writing group friends have been inspired to write poems using Wordle guesses. I’ve tried a few times, but as a person who plays Wordle infrequently and always starts with the same word, the practice didn’t appeal to me.

Mary Lee’s rule is when she guesses in three words, she writes a haiku. Yesterday I got it in three tries. I wrote the words down, pearl, rival, and drill, and went about my day.

Newly retired, I’ve found the mornings to be a sanctuary. I take a walk with my dog, fix a pot of oatmeal, and eat on my back deck watching birds. Oh, the retirement life!

At the feeder, I get a variety of birds. (Tufted titmouse, chickadee, cardinal) The thing about using Wordle words forces a metaphor that may or may not work. I was finally pleased with this one, so I am sharing today. Have you tried writing Wordle poems?

A pearl of titmouse
rivals chipper chickadee
early morning drill
Margaret Simon, draft

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Water Strider by Molly Hogan

Summer is winding down. Although, the temperatures remain high. Once again, I turned to teacher-writer-photographer Molly Hogan for a photo prompt. Molly captured this water strider in perfect stride to open up a world. The photo itself is a poem.

It’s a just right day for a haiku. Please consider writing a response poem. Leave encouraging comments for other writers.

Glass pebbles glide
below water strider toes
tapping into green.

Margaret Simon, draft

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

I am spending some time in New Orleans with my daughters and grandchildren. Soon a new grandson will be here. But in the meantime, I took a walk in the neighborhood. A city walk is different from my small hometown walk, so I took some pictures to set the scene. (Don’t forget to add 80+ temps and 60% humidity to your imagination.)

We took grandson Thomas to City Park and walked around the gardens.

Thomas, 5, looks for turtles in the pond.
Turtles, turtles…all around…
City Park stone bridge

My One Little Word for 2025 is Still. Even in the midst of city traffic and busyness, a moment of stillness can be found.

City Park Haiku

Turtles sun-basking
While heat rises from old stone
Bridges to stillness


Margaret Simon, draft

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Ice Kingdom by Molly Hogan

Here is another amazing photo from my friend Molly Hogan. She had to work hard to capture this scene. She used bubble mixture and a straw. She said it took patience and that her hands were freezing. Sometimes what looks easy is actually hard work. The reward is in this amazing ice kingdom inside a bubble.

Ice Trees

A magical dome
where ice trees rise, multiply–
Still frozen kingdom
Margaret Simon, draft

Please leave a small poem in the comments and offer encouraging responses to other writers.

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Great Blue Heron on Purple Creek, Ridgeland, Ms. by Margaret Simon

On a recent visit to Mississippi, I caught this flight of a great blue heron on my phone camera. The wingspan of these birds amazes me. They fly low across the water and perch near the water’s edge to forage for minnows and other small aquatics. This photo reminds me of a drawing my father did of a heron over the water.

Heron in Flight by John Gibson

I invite you to write today using these photos as inspiration. Leave a small poem in the comments and support other writers with your responses.

The Flight of the Great Blue Heron

Poised dawn glider
Horizon solitude
Regal wave to God

Margaret Simon, draft

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