soft moonlight midnight's gentle breeze melted snow Copyright © 2022-02-12, by Liz Bennefeld.
moonlight and shadow the breath of winter's wind holds promises of spring Copyright © 2022-02-11, by Liz Bennefeld.
Photo by Rajesh S Balouria on Pexels.com
topaz blue with silver ribbons clouds and sky Copyright © 2022-02-10, by Lizl Bennefeld. plump pillows and white blankets spread above a world of green the clouds in the heavens fragrant meadows of sweet grass Copyright © 2022-02-09, by Liz Bennefeld. plantain lilies friendships disappear dreams remain Copyright © 2022-02-09, by Lizl Bennefeld. wide awake hours till sunrise... then a nap Copyright © 2022-02-08, by Liz Bennefeld.
king's gambit learning classic chess moves step by step
[haiku.] Copyright © 2022-02-07, by Lizl Bennefeld.
window frost fractured snowflakes fly winter winds Copyright © 2022-02-06, by Liz Bennefeld
Image: © 2011-02-08, by Lizl Bennefeld.
morning sun frost on the window pane yellows and blues Copyright © 2022-02-02, by Liz Bennefeld. autumn flax seed pod and petals... memories fragrance from the garden the fresh dew on the grass [tanka.] Copyright © 2022/02/03, by Liz Bennefeld. relaxation on my left arm, a sleeping dog breathing deeply laptop keyboard on my screen can't write poems for the snores [tanka.] Copyright © 2022-02-03, by Liz Bennefeld. five months between too-short hair and "cannot see" — new groomer...found world [senryu.] Copyright © 2022-02-04, by Liz Bennefeld.
Note: Our dogs had to go without haircuts from sometime in August until yesterday.
the blizzard winds but no snowstorm sundog halo
[haiku.] Copyright © 2o22-o2-o1, by Liz Bennefeld
National Haiku Writing Month (NaHaiWriMo)
Image: Gopherboy6956, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
Sundogs in Fargo, North Dakota. Taken February 18th, 2009.
the (r)age of fire
lightning torches thirsty trees
nowhere left to hide
[senryu.] Copyright © 2021.11.01 by Liz Bennefeld.
autumn’s reds and golds
dry leaves crumble underfoot
evening fades to night
[haiku.] Copyright © 2021.11.01 by Liz Bennefeld.
As I understand it, unlike haiku, senryu don’t have a cutting or seasonal word. The structure of senryu is usually three lines with 17 or fewer syllables (e.g. 5-7-5), like haiku. It addresses human issues/affairs rather than nature. (Emotions rather than the senses, maybe?) Also, a haiku length that is coming more into use is ~11 syllables (3-5-3), putting them more in sync with the content volume of a haiku written in Japanese.
weeds overgrow the garden
the vegetables are picked
waiting for the snow to fall
winter's time to rest
Copyright © 2021-11-01, by Liz Bennefeld.
The dodoitsu is a Japanese poetic form: 7-7-7-5. Usually focuses on love or work, frequently with a comical twist.
I have written a new “What’s Happening” page that appears as the home page on this blog: patchworkprose.com/blog