Saturday, April 1, 2017

Edible Haiku

Welcome to the April 2017 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month's theme is Edible Haiku.

Poems have been received from Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Italy, Netherlands, Poland, Singapore, Turkey, the U. K., Ukraine, the United States, and Vietnam


my first bite
in the mango season
this greenfly who won't go away
    - Adjei Agyei-Baah

winter date:
baked potatoes meet
spicy chicken
    - Adrian Bouter

sticky rice
the toddler's endless
questions
    - Agnes Eva Savich

relaxing at lunch
a pigeon eyes my salmon —
nothing is safe anywhere
    - Alan Bern

candlemas
little fingers pulling
the wishbone
    - Alan Summers

paradox in Rio
under the scorching sun
boiling black beans: feijoada
    - Amauri Solon

chimarrao and churrasco
my gaucho uncle
still in my habits
    - Amauri Solon

star cookies —
he asks for
mooncakes
    - Angelee Deodhar
   
sodden field
beyond March muck
hot cocoa
    - Anna Cates

a taste
of black bean brownies
rainy Saturday
    - Anna Cates

family feast . . .
taste of raw mango
in every dish
    - Archana Kapoor Nagpal

pregnancy cravings . . .
next to my bed
a box of chocolates
    - Archana Kapoor Nagpal

licking water from my palm
the homeless
kitten
    - Barbara Tate

fall harvest
hiding in plain sight
the pumpkin pies
    - Barbara Tate

shoveling walkways —
the crew boss
brings hot coffee
    - Bill Waters

winter solstice
blackberries on sale
at the market
    - Brad Bennett

snowed in
another spoonful of sugar
in my tea
    - Carol Dilworth

vegan
no more honey
on buttered toast
    - Caroline Gates-Lupton

pancake by pancake accepting imperfection
    - Caroline Skanne

eating grapes
straight from the vine
the robin and i
    - Caroline Skanne

curling smoke
I burn his casserole
after the honeymoon
    - Celestine Nudanu

bread and butter pudding
hot on my tongue
his kisses
    - Celestine Nudanu

rose petals
furling and unfurling
in my tea
    - Christina Sng

mulberries
the tartness
of her criticism
    - Christina Sng

crêpes suzette
he rarely gives
flowers
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

summer camp
spitting watermelon seeds
on movie night
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

novice baker
she makes mud pies
by the driveway
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

the gravy boat
comes around . . .
no need to ask
    - Dan Schwerin

oatmeal
the help
of milk and honey
    - Dan Schwerin

dunking the biscuit too long — where we went wrong
    - Danny Blackwell

after generosity
tears of joy
wasabi
    - David J. Kelly

maple syrup
the buffet breakfast
runneth over
    - David J. Kelly

wild strawberry
the sweet reward
of finding it
    - David J. Kelly

visiting my parents
a bag of sprouting potatoes
in the guest shower
    - David Oates

new friend
watches closely as I try
habanero sauce
    - David Oates

what readers can't see
the chocolate stains
on my poems
    - Debbi Antebi

waxwings again not enough berries for jam   
    - Debbie Strange

squash blossom . . .
creases form between
her brows
    - Debbie Strange

the fragrance
of a ripened peach
perfectly split
    - Dottie Piet

eating kebab
the smell of smoke
surrounding the garden
    - Ece Cehreli

a happy day
I eat baklava
with sherbet
    - Ece Cehreli

rendez-vous:
a swallow's nest
above the dish of sushi
    - Elisa Allo

relaxing Saturday —
children order
soba noodles
    - Elisa Allo

subway car
the lingering smell
of a ham sandwich
    - Elizabeth Alford

when it comes to love
there can never be too much
ripe avocado
    - Elizabeth Alford

crumbs
ants in a row
on the windowsill
    - Eufemia Griffo

after divorce
ice cream melts
drop by drop
    - Eufemia Griffo

in my Easter bunny suit
a tiny child
offers me a carrot
    - Frank Robinson

the melon cubes
stick together
morning of the surgery
    - Glenn Ingersoll

camping
always beside our fire
glimmering fish
    - Goran Gatalica

summer evening
my daughter adds
lime juice to the stir fry
    - Hannah Mahoney

teaching my daughter
mom's recipe
the slow pour of molasses
    - Hannah Mahoney

mental health day
slathering marmalade
on warm toast
    - Hannah Mahoney

that pear i tasted
in Paris when i was young
lingers on my tongue
    - Jack Goldman

raspberries
grandbabe's
first opinion
    - Jan Benson

impromptu picnic
at japanese gardens
herbal tea and zen
    - Jan Benson

traveling without him passion fruit stains her white dress
    - Jane Williams

steaming bowl of pho the delicate aromas of a daydream
    - Jane Williams

cold moon
my mother's slow and
constant stirring
    - Jennifer Hambrick

fresh-mown bluegrass
slices of cucumber
on granny's chipped china plate
    - Jennifer Hambrick

apples, apples, apples
so many kinds —
one of each please in my pie
    - Joan Leotta

we feast on guava y queso
sipping spicy teas —
you whisper sweet nothings
    - Joan McNerney

barbeque
each mosquito
takes a bite
    - Joanna M. Weston

a cold front
moving in
hot curry
    - Joanna M. Weston

fruit softening
under the old apple tree
wasps threading shadows
    - John Hawkhead

dandelion stew
on the dinner table
everyone's wish
    - Justice Joseph Prah

whipped cream
he puts out his tongue
really far
    - Kath Abela Wilson

red chili pepper
I even sprinkle it
on toast
    - Kath Abela Wilson

midnight
the taste of parsnip chips
in bed
    - Kath Abela Wilson

new to kitchen . . .
I added salt instead of sugar
in tea
    - Kumarendra Mallick

driving home
the hot pizza box
on the passenger seat
    - Lance Robertson

the possibilities in a bag of flour
    - Lance Robertson

buttery fingers
sharing a large popcorn
at the movies   
    - Lance Robertson

tossed noodle
sticks to the wall
spider web
    - Laughing waters

3 o'clock
start thinking about dinner —
50 years
    - Linda Keeler

burnt toast
the day begins
badly
    - Linda Keeler

season's end . . .
the last peach in the bowl
politely turned down
    - Madhuri Pillai

cherries the ones I left hanging
    - Margaret Jones

handmade piadina —
the flour on your cheek
the day we met
    - Maria Laura Valente

sunday lunch —
just the three of us
and countless meatballs
    - Maria Laura Valente

jasmine in bloom —
first cookies I bake
for my daughter
    - Maria Laura Valente

birthday cake
she eats the word
happy
    - Marianne Paul

crabapple worms
she says her jelly jam
has lots of protein
    - Marianne Paul

vegan diet
my cat staring
at the freezer
    - Marta Chocilowska

stray dog
a beggar splits his sandwich
in half
    - Marta Chocilowska

supermoon
a ripe squash hangs
from the trellis
    - Martha Magenta

cinnamon buns —
the first time I saw
my neighbour
    - Martha Magenta

blackberry moon
filling jam jars
to the brim
    - Martha Magenta

another night shift
solitary focus
morning donuts
    - Marty Blue Waters

chocolate almond milk
being silly together —
my daughter's laughter
    - Mary Hohlman

sunflower seeds
my canary and I
enjoy spring morning
    - Mary Hohlman

tasting a word
as I say it aloud —
gnocchi
    - Mary Kendall

the soft velvet
of apricots
against our lips
    - Mary Kendall

pierogi day —
pinching loose ends
of dough & memories
    - Mary Kendall

red lentils soaking
I do the laundry
water the garden
    - Michael G. Smith

making apple pies
a poet taught me about
sharing a kitchen
    - Mimi Foyle

my fingers scramble
chocolate in my pocket
turns the day around
    - Mimi Foyle

the '60s
Barefoot Tom makes co-op salads
from yard weeds
    - Nancy Osborn

arriving late for dinner flowers expired in the vase
    - pamela a. babusci

cream in my coffee
swirling like
the Milky Way
    - pamela a. babusci

nana's kitchen
even the cat
eats spaghetti
    - Pat Davis

nana's herbs
she lets me pick
the sweet basil
    - Pat Davis

wine at the bottom of the cup —
swallowing
candlelight
    - Phoebe Lakin

for the teacher
a red apple
or six dandelions
    - Phyllis Lee

for a bigger tip
she adds whipped cream
and pecans
    - Phyllis Lee

in the porch box
chocolate chip cookies
for the birds
    - Phyllis Lee

seafront cafe
extra salt
on the table
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

snowmelt
two carrots left
on the lawn
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

midnight diner
he-man breakfast dish
turned into ash tray
    - Ron Scully

soft drink
a waiter says it's okay
to eat the flower
    - Rosa Clement

fortune cookie
she looks for wisdom after
cracking it
    - Rosa Clement

tangerine season
I turn my skirt
into a basket
    - Rosa Clement

autumn fog
bursting through it
cherry tomato
    - Ruth Yarrow

blackberries
in a bowl of water — sky
fractured into dots
    - Ruth Yarrow

nursing home:
loud clinking
of rice pudding spoons
    - Ruth Yarrow

please take me out
for a home cooked meal
someplace else
    - Sara Robbins

quick browning
of the apple's flesh
moon and clouds
    - Scott Wiggerman

ah! fresh basil the grasshopper and i
    - Simon Hanson

coconut blossom sugar
such sweet words
from her lips
    - Simon Hanson

on a park bench
empty black walnut shell —
my breath in front of me
    - Stephen Page

limburger cheese
on the hot radiator
dad's school prank
    - Sue Norvell

the first tomatoes
finally
summer begins
    - Sue Norvell

proud mama
my toddler knows more foods at 1
than i did at 20
    - Summer Killian

simmering soup . . .
they do not exchange
a single word
    - Sunjuktaa Asopa

breakfast table
the light from
a peeled orange
    - Sunjuktaa Asopa

steaming rice
on a banana leaf
so fragrant this noonday peace
    - Sunjuktaa Asopa

garden party —
her laughter mixes
with the guacamole
    - Theresa A. Cancro

morning moon —
folding an omelet
onto the plate
    - Theresa A. Cancro

spring sunset —
one green olive left
in the jar
    - Theresa A. Cancro

Sunday crime
I overestimate the nutmeg
for our breakfast muffins
    - Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

a little moment
of rebellion
gelato in February
    - Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

more groceries
than my trunk can hold
rainy Friday
    -Tiffany Shaw-Diaz

married dinner out —
bringing reading
material
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

jasmine tea my eyes open for butterflies
    - Vibeke Laier

restaurant temper tantrum —
the cook put paprika
on my poached eggs
    - Zee Zahava

daydreaming
now the tea is cold . . .
that's okay
    - Zee Zahava

contemptuous of phonies
my father rejects
haagan-dazs ice cream
    - Zee Zahava

green tea leaf
on the bottom of a cup
a chinese dragon
    - Zuzanna Truchlewska

morning coffee
instead of sugar
your smile
    - Zuzanna Truchlewska

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

Haiku by and About Women

Welcome to the March 2017 issue of brass bell. This is the second annual issue dedicated to poetry by women. In celebration of International Women's Day (March 8), and National Women's History Month in the U. S., we write in honor of women and girls everywhere.

You will notice the way some themes and references appear in more than one haiku, like threads connecting women to one another.

Poems have been received from Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Italy, Poland, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Sweden, the U. K. and the United States



catching up
with a girlfriend
summer clouds
    - Agnes Eva Savich

spring cleaning —
the doll grandma gave me
still says "Mama"
    - Angelee Deodhar

Mother's Day
she calls me by her
sister's name
    - Angelee Deodhar

how sad it is
she is almost gone
and we are still unfinished
    - Ann Wexler

late season snow all my yesterdays
    - Anna Cates

feeling awkward
in my too-short skirt
summer's end
    - Anna Maris

old diary
the rose
still red
    - Aparna Pathak

guarding women's right to choose
in honor of my daughter
in your memory, mom
    - Barbara Mink

centipede
her collection of mismatched
shoes
    - Barbara Tate

preoccupation
counting the stars
which one is mine
    - Barbara Tate

spring meadow
my daughter's hair
curls at the waist
    - Caroline Skanne

wood walk
when no one listens
she sings
    - Caroline Skanne

free education
mother and I learn
the alphabet
    - Celestine Nudanu

in our house
the bits of family
that come unglued
    - Christina Martin

sunshine —
just as her funeral bell
strikes two
    - Christina Martin

distant stars
days I need to be
alone
    - Christina Sng

crinkling leaves
the deepening lines
in my skin
    - Christina Sng

cherry pink sunset
my dog and I
childless
    - Christine L. Villa

talking with mom
about my first period
white pleated skirt
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

first bra strap snap
by our male gymnastics coach
sixth grade
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

long winter
the sudden white
in my hair
    - Debbi Antebi

fading memories
my reflection sways
in the ripples
    - Debbi Antebi

planting a Three Sisters garden every year we remember you
    - Debbie Strange

the hum of bees . . .
I know every word
by heart
    - Debbie Strange

runaway truck lane
all those things
I can't control   
    - Deborah P Kolodji

one tiny word
honey
on a warm biscuit
    - Fran Helmstadter

morning frost
the farmer murmurs
to her goats
    - Hannah Mahoney

Friday acupuncture
she needles a spot
called Palace of Weariness
    - Hannah Mahoney

no room at the inn for a pregnant refugee
    - Helen Buckingham

quantum shift
venus positions herself
over jupiter
    - Jan Benson

home late —
the kiss you wanted,
the one you got
    - Jan Benson

waxing moon
the quarters
in her vacuum bag
    - Jennifer Hambrick

mountain fog
great-grandmother
weaves a corn shuck chair
    - Jennifer Hambrick

center of the labyrinth —
my spirit guide
whispers her name
    - Jill Lange

your words —
the exaggerated lies
of moonlight
    - Joann Grisetti

on the train all my life the journey
    - Joanna M. Weston

memories
in my backpack
sand and shells
    - Joanna M. Weston

green ferns emerging
from decaying forest floor —
potential in me
    - Julie Schnepel

last days
I sing her
the lullabies
    - Kath Abela Wilson

the open journal
remembering being sixteen
same handwriting
    - Katya Sabaroff Taylor

over coffee
she cleans her glasses
on the baby blanket
    - kjmunro

girl in a blue shawl
my friend
before I even knew your name
    - Laura Gates-Lupton

my daughter . . .
year by year
our roles reverse
    - Madhuri Pillai

the steely grain
in her voice
the hurt she hides
    - Madhuri Pillai

factory bell
taking a piece of the moon
home with her
    - Malintha Perera

falling leaf —
grandma's pendulum clock
has stopped
    - Maria Laura Valente

crescent moon —
my mother's smile shines
on my sister's face
    - Maria Laura Valente

white chrysanthemum
who will remember me
when I'm gone
    - Marta Chocilowska

melting ice
her first letter after
fifty years
    - Martha Magenta

tumbleweed
the wind restyles
my hair
    - Martha Magenta

i was a bluebird
in another life
following the river's path
    - Marty Blue Waters

scent of mock orange —
all the years spent
doubting myself
    - Mary Kendall

when i can't decide
between monkey bars and swings
tree branches beckon
    - Mimi Foyle

in my best dreams i
play the piano and weave
a bridge of serpents
    - Mimi Foyle

mountain peak
gazing into the distance
i postpone my descent
    - Nina Kovacic (translation by Durda Vukelic Rozic)

her name tag says
hello, my name is
woman
    - Pat Davis

after yesterday
trying to think well
of an old friend
    - Phyllis Lee

carrying on
as if I were
not broken
    - Phyllis Lee

trash day —
discarding the last
of those dratted heels
    - Pris Campbell

women's day —
the younger ones carry
the torch now
    - Pris Campbell

hometown park
the old seesaw wobbles
with the weight of my worry
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

another year
still this scar
reminds me
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

suburban road
the sound of my high heels
silences the crickets
    - Rosa Clement

laundry day
the flowers of my dress
with jasmine scent
    - Rosa Clement

over her apple
the toddler peers
at the munching squirrel
    - Ruth Yarrow

from a flowered sofa
after an eighty hour week
her dark eyes
    - Ruth Yarrow

so hard to stay still
these first warm days of spring
my sap is rising
    - Sue Crowley

quarrel over —
tying knots
in a rag rug
    - Theresa A. Cancro

world hijab day
blue head scarf
in the elegant wind
    - Tricia Knoll

jagged craters
on the moon
my aging face
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

night kisses
sharing a secret
with mother
    - Vibeke Laier

early morning rain
the turtle remains in its shell
so do i
    - Zee Zahava

an unbusy moment eavesdropping on my own thoughts
    - Zee Zahava

wave after wave
your shadow
appears and disappears
    - Zuzanna Truchlewska

Wednesday, February 1, 2017

haiku written on January 18, 2017

Welcome to the February 2017 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month's collection features poems that were written on a single date: Wednesday, January 18, 2017.

Contributors are from: Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Ireland, Japan, Nigeria, Poland, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, the U.K., and the United States


setting up for the day
the roadside beggar
lines his calabash with coins
    - Adjei Agyei-Baah

winter blues
the unlit street lamp
waits for night
    - Agnes Eva Savich

late night haiku . . .
waking up the smartphone
and myself
    - Ajaya Mahala

rain drop
dripped then
drops on
    - Alan Bern

those who stop —
ducks taking colour
from the river
    - Alan Summers

orange dawn wakes me
ebb tide
mine and the river's
    - Amauri Solon Ribeiro

missing
the warmth of his voice
this cold cold house
    - Angelee Deodhar

late night drive
between the good songs
silent starlight
    - Anna Cates

sleet
the impossibility
of lilacs
    - Anna Maris

another chance
to know the ordinary
winter meadow
    - Anne Elise Burgevin

kid's garden —
the little snowman
eats the carrot
    - Aparna Pathak

six o'clock news
my husband yells at
the tv
    - Barbara Tate

winter night . . .
the hiss of the fire
the sigh of the cat
    - Bill Waters

winter garden
puddles cuddling up
to flagstones
    - Brad Bennett

the more I read
the more confused I become
can't shut my eyes
    - C. Robin Janning

winter sun
i share my oatcakes
with a robin
    - Caroline Skanne

the calligraphy
of bare maple branches
tangled thoughts of home   
    - Chen-ou Liu

watching over us
my son's stuffed animals
assigned as sentinels
    - Christina Sng

spreading towels
on the rug and sofa
muddy paws
    - Claire Vogel Camargo

street corner
an aspen shaking
in the rain
    - Dan Schwerin

middle of the night
colouring a nightmare
the yelp of foxes
    - David J. Kelly

paper cut
the sting of the words
in her letter
    - Debbi Antebi

CT scan
will i emerge
a butterfly
    - Debbie Strange

rain gutters full . . .
the hummingbird feeder
empty
    - Deborah P Kolodji

heavy cloud cover
the classical station
plays vivaldi
    - Dottie Piet

haiku dry spell . . .
my old water bottle
empties itself
    - Elizabeth Alford

morning echo
a rooster calculates
the reach of its crow
    - Emmanuel Jessie Kalusian

my cork board
three-deep in grandchildren's art
we plan the day
    - Ferris Gilli

reading the paper
checking the obituaries
not me not yet
    - Frank Robinson

the soft voice in the other room, man to cat
    - Glenn Ingersoll

another broken old vase
seeking out
my glasses
    - Goran Gatalica

january heat
opening windows
to a post-truth spring
    - Helen Buckingham

procrastination
i pretend to be sick . . .
mailbox in the snow
    - Hideo Suzuki

sweeping winter
from the corners
early crocus
    - Jan Benson

sharing cake all the time in the world before the mammogram
    - Jane Williams

business trip
in the light of the half-moon
my husband's slippers
    - Jennifer Hambrick

ah, poetry journal
package FedEx left in rain —
waterproof
    - Jill Lange

his wheelchair
at the window . . .
sun worship
    - Jo Balistreri

my green thumb too itchy
made me spill dirt
all over the floor
    - Joan McNerney

waves and the tide over and over again
    - Joanna M. Weston

subway rush hour
train carriages packed
with armpits
    - John Hawkhead

beach shoreline
waves washing
my fallen shadow
    - Justice Joseph Prah

cold snap
before sun
turtles
    - Kath Abela Wilson

calendar tells me
that I'm really getting old
but not on this day
    - Katya Sabaroff Taylor

warming up by the fire
we plan our visit
to Iceland
    - kjmunro

drifting clouds —
any anchor for my
wavering mind
    - Kumarendra Mallick

my footsteps
landing in your footprint
single snowflake
    - Laughing waters

light from a dim sky
the sun fit through the branches
as if it lived there
    - Laurinda Lind

after his death
his partner weeps alone —
alone at 97
    - Louise Vignaux

after work
detour to the chemist
her offer of coffee and a chinwag
    - Madhuri Pillai

matching scarfs
the child
and her bald barbie
    - Malintha Perera

a healing circle
we shed old stories
forgiveness
    - Mara Alper

food enough and teeth
back home
I forgive my dentist
    - Margaret Jones

feeling guilty
pruning the houseplants
anyway
    - Marianne Paul

frosted window —
placing the poinsettia
near the fireplace
    - Marta Chocilowska

daffodil leaves
a sharp bend
in the road
     - Martha Magenta

tripping over the same rug —
hammer and nails
pounding it to the floor
    - Marty Blue Waters

mangosteen rubies
scatter on the kitchen floor
like winter rainbows
    - Mimi Foyle

no fear . . .
blue jays nab peanuts
despite the cat
    - Nancy Brady

elephant with wings
imaginations soar high
while feeding baby
    - Neha R. Krishna

snowy day
the sweetness of summer
in my mum's marmalade
    - Nina Kovacic
      translated by Durda Vukelic Rozic

clever morning
one more verbal blow
from my Shakespearean Insults calendar
    - Olivier Schopfer

met someone new
and liked her much more
than I expected to
    - Phoebe Shalloway

prankster
the neighbor's garden Buddha
on our porch swing
    - Phyllis Lee

each time
I look at the clock —
two a.m.
    - Pris Campbell

my cold hands
warming them up
in your pocket
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

before dawn
coming to my senses
fear fades to white
    - Rob Sullivan

breakfast
the scent of lilies stronger
than coffee
    - Rosa Clement

dark water
between the last chunks of ice
deep reflections
    - Ruth Yarrow

shuffled playlist
my least favorite song
plays first
    - Shloka Shankar

pool rescue
a struggling bee
lifted to a sunflower
    - Simon Hanson

winter fog —
a boat horn blows
from every direction
    - Stephen Page

my vulnerable students
laugh at my jokes —
the last class I will teach
    -Sue Crowley

flock of turkeys
scratching through the snow
to the leaves below
    - Susan Lang

winter doldrums
slipping past the screen door
the cat's cold nose
    - Theresa A. Cancro

the arterial road
clogged up again . . .
high blood pressure
    - Tim Gardiner

the icicle dagger
falls from the eaves
wild freedom
    - Tricia Knoll

winter moon
folding myself
into silence
    - Vibeke Laier

a thought—
the world is a magical place
it opens its arms to me
    - Yvonne Fisher

lunch with my sister's photograph
not as much fun
as a real visit
    - Zee Zahava

snowstorm
lifting up
a flock of rooks
    - Zuzanna Truchlewska

Sunday, January 1, 2017

happiness haiku

Welcome to the January 2017 issue of brass bell: a haiku journal.

This month we are sharing what makes us happy … a good way to start a new year!


Contributors are from: Australia, Brazil, Canada, Croatia, Denmark, Ecuador, England, Ghana, India, Ireland, Japan, Philippines, Poland, Singapore, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, Wales, the U.K., and the United States


mountain
on your rough edge
I made it to the top
    - Adjei Agyei-Baah

crashing tide
little crabs hurry back
to sea
    - Adjei Agyei-Baah

your voice
again
more than enough
    - Alan Bern

the rock garden where the statue of Buddha sat
    - Alan Catlin

bedtime stories
read to me by my parents
I read to my grandson
    - Angelee Deodhar

spring breeze
my dress makes a pirouette
on the washing line
    - Anna Maris

sunset
the hare and i
stop to watch
    - Anna Maris

first date
this early morning and you
also so blushed
    - Anna Mazurkiewicz

temple bell . . .
I recollect the name
of a long lost friend
    - Aparna Pathak

winter sky
catching a wish
on my tongue
    - Barbara Tate

reading in the sunshine . . .
a tangle of lavender
and one devoted bee
    - Bill Waters

asleep with the light on . . .
taking the book
from her hand
    - Bill Waters

after the rain
my shadow steps first
in the puddles
    - Billy Antonio

book-shaped cake
my child tells me she too
is a bookworm
    - Billy Antonio

swaying pines . . .
something inside me
clicks into place
    - Brad Bennett

thirty four years after
dad's gone — a new baby
with his eyes
    - Bre

rush of wind
no ground below
zipline
    - Caroline Gates-Lupton

full inbox
taking a break
super moon . . .
    - Caroline Skanne

thawing stream
the forgotten words
of a song . . .
    - Caroline Skanne

her bike
leans against mine . . .
summer stars
    - Chen-ou Liu

rolling in from the sea moon pearls
    - Christina Martin

last chocolate
at the back of the fridge
childlike exuberance
    - Christina Sng

first sight
of my newborn son
the expansion of my heart
    - Christina Sng

a young swashbuckler
challenges his reflection
with a balloon sword
    - David J. Kelly

wearing fairy wings
a little girl flutters
from step to step
    - David J. Kelly

tiny raindrops shine
in my daughter's dark hair —
starry sky
    - David Oates

harvest moon
the love note I find
in an old book
    - Debbi Antebi

eleven years later
our new dance
to the same song
    - Debbi Antebi

ginko walk how extraordinary this ordinary life
    - Debbie Strange

Betsy's deck —
waiting for the eagle
on Penobscot Bay
    - Frances Helmstadter

early january —
for a moment
i'm as young as the new year
    - Frank Robinson

one by one
the fireflies come to dance
among the rafters
    - Glenn Ingersoll

ending the year
on a bright note —
moonshine on ice
    - Helen Buckingham

twin umbrellas
talking to each other
joy of a rainy day
    - Hideo Suzuki

you are my sunshine
new again
with each babe
    - Jan Benson

exchanging rare objects snail mail
    - Jane Williams

dolphin pod so much more to see without my camera
    - Jane Williams

the cartoon clippings
she sends just for fun
spring birds
    - Jennifer Hambrick

morning bird how he calls me beautiful
    - Jennifer Hambrick

making angels
in the snow . . .
grandma and grandpa
    - Jo Balistreri

whoopee another poetry acceptance
    - Joan McNerney

a dozen red balloons
hang from the chandelier
his sixtieth
    - Joanna M. Weston

I go to bed smiling
each night a flower
in my hair
    - Kath Abela Wilson

reaching into a box
of mom's few last possessions
my poems about her
    - Kath Abela Wilson

just this one flower
makes the whole room beautiful
red gladiola
    - Katya Sabaroff Taylor

unpacking my suitcase your lunch this poem
    - kjmunro

at the library
on the lowest shelf
picture books
    - kjmunro

tumbling down the hill box of kids
    - Laughing waters

writing again
playing piano again
healthy again
    - Madeleine Cohen Oakley

dog park
in the morning sunshine
the bellbird's song
    - Madhuri Pillai

sun after storm
flowers on the meadow
straightening up
    - Marta Chocilowska

icy wind
the horse's warm breath
on my neck
    - Martha Magenta

looking for a laugh
i see a mirror and pose
hello hello
    - Marty Blue Waters

my great-grandson
always giggling
i never know why
    - Mary Louise Church

snowbound —
a brand new novel
page one
    - Mary Kendall

first snow —
a cheeky chickadee
breaks the peace
    - Mary Kendall

on the telephone
my grandson's excited shriek
when he hears it's me
    - Mimi Foyle

having a stroll — my daydreams and I
    - Nina Kovacic
      translated by Durda Vukelic Rozic

new passengers
in the subway train
a feather enters too
    - Olivier Schopfer

secret garden
no sound but
the gurgle of the fountain
    - Olivier Schopfer

my grown child declares
the best music is
in the oldies bin
    - Pat Davis

winter green
the first sprout
from my hyacinth bulb
    - Pat Davis

our initials
carved in a heart . . .
still smiling
    - Pat Geyer

slow mornings — you laugh
and brush my tangling hair
right into my eyes
    - Phoebe Shalloway

car window condensation
draw one smiley face
then a second so it's not lonely
    - Phoebe Shalloway

emptied closet . . .
mother's old red robe again
in my arms
    - Pris Campbell

checking the clock —
my friend's face appears
on skype
    - Pris Campbell

first warm day
folding the breeze
into the sheets
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

hopscotch
I play a game
with my inner child
    - Rachel Sutcliffe

small brown wren
weighs on trembling aspen
vocalissimus
    - Ron Scully

spring night
in my dream I am
awake and smiling
    - Rosa Clement

kaleidoscope
my son shows me
another beauty
    - Simon Hanson

strong wind gust —
cardinal atop a plum
lifts its crown and sings
    - Stephen Page

1 nuthatch    1 titmouse    9 goldfinches
6 perches at the feeder
chaos!
    - Sue Norvell

fall hike —
the crackle
of peanut brittle
    - Theresa A. Cancro

waking
the robin's spirit
within me
    - Tim Gardiner

happy birthday card
from the hardware store
farmer's nuts, bolts, and hoses
    - Tricia Knoll

midnight kiss
New Year's Eve
and every night
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

patches of daffodils
around the city —
finally
    - Valentina Ranaldi-Adams

winter dawn
butterflies gliding
in a dream
    - Vibeke Laier

dancing with diana
gladys     stevie     smokey
motown sunrise
    - Zee Zahava

pen: thank you for still having ink
    - Zee Zahava