Yesterday was stunningly hot. I drove with the top down - the cars top not mine - and as a result I'm now feeling like a small, red blob. However, yesterday before frying myself at Avon Gorge I did manage to create a few reflective Haiku.

Here are my mornings Haiku.... bless you! The haiku per day challenge isn't a chore, the thing is to stop and that really is becoming an issue. I find myself thinking in blinking haiku mode. As you can see there's more than just a single effort. There were more but they've gone in to my little book that I'm creating.

Outside My Window

The alder branches

arch over the path almost

touching my window

Reflections
My dusty mirror
reflects a softened image
false reality

Haiku... Bless You!

Great word 'Haiku'. It sounds like a sneeze and just like a sneeze it goes viral, under your skin and into your head and there you are.... I've come down with a case of Haiku. It can happen. There, there, go to bed with a lap top, a mug of coffee and some gluten free 'muffins'.

That aside, and in an effort to keep up with the ethos of a Haiku a day here is this mornings effort.

The alder branches
arch over the path almost
touching my window

and because I love haiku form I thought it would be fun to add more and experiment with taking the usual preserve of nature to include more mundane subject matters...

My Reflections
My dusty mirror
reflects a softened image
false reality

Lasse
Small village, where time
is marked by church bells, dogs bark
and children's laughter

I'm really enjoying this little task.... A Haiku per day. I have to try to stop.

(sorry, couldn't resist having a poetic joke at the expense of caesura or something like that.)

A write old song and dance

I'm updating this post with a small image I've worked on as I want to mix up the image that shows up when I post links to the blog.




--------------------------------------------------


Hello sweet reader, and welcome to my first blog. 
It is a surprise to me that I’m ‘blogging’ at all as its not something that I had intended to do but I’m on a mission, a writing crusade and this is just one small part of it. I’d like to say it started with joining the Open University and quite inadvertently finding myself on an educational pathway that changed direction to follow a creative writing route, but that wouldn’t be quite true. I’ve always written, from the time I could read and write I wrote poetry or stories, I have books full of my writing that fill shelves and boxes under beds. I even taught creative writing courses for children for a number of years in association with Wiltshire Young Artists. I remember the books we created for each school visited and the range of contributions, hilarious to tragic poems and short stories the children were bold enough, or young enough to share. Yet, I never thought to champion my own efforts. Schooled in an environment of ‘that’s not for you’ I baulked at anyone foisting this confine upon others but carried it in my psyche in relation to my own efforts. So now, I’m released and what do I find? I find myself unable to stop writing. I write like I’m finally released and everywhere I go, everything I see, memories that come back to me, all jostle for my writing time. The colour of a leaf, like chocolate and lime, stops me in my tracks and I have to record it, sitting on a tarmac footpath in Cheltenham. Strangers look surprised to find me taking pictures of random items quite unabashed and scribbling away thoughtfully rather than keeping up the pace of normal life. Goodness knows what has been unleashed but I’m enjoying the helter-skelter ride of it all.