Haiku Book

The thick fog rolled in,
with the sound of crashing waves,
and the bell that rang.

The rocks took the ships,
with little to do but drown,
as the ship went down.

The music rang out,
across the harbours waters,
and a lone voice sang.

I scribbled a note,
and left it in a notebook,
twenty years ago,

The paper cut deep,
and she let the blood drip down,
across its whiteness.,

The train is busy,
with different languages,
quite continental.

The toy rabbit fell,
with a flop on to the floor,
and then hopped away. .

They looked all the day,
for fluffy to see again,
but he’d had enough.

I am playing games,
and the kind that call for dice,
like snakes and ladders.

Now I love that sound,
it is like a rhythmic home,
where I am welcome.

It’s Django Reinhardt,
and Stephane Grappelli playing,
that classic Minor Swing.

Django’s swinging jazz,
can be so intoxicating;
just turn the lights out.

It has inspired me,
from young and a constant friend,
that I do keep close.

Left in the drafts sections

In yer face Hip Hop,
it ‘as someting te tell yer;
what is your message?

The guitar can sing,
if you listen carefully,
you’ll hear harmonies.

Rhythms combining,
in rushing flooding hot beats,
sweeping you to whine.

Syncopated tunes,
a ragging and a tagging,
in hypnotic sounds.

The weekend is done,
with now a short week ahead,
with some there on leave.

At last I’ve caught them,
though they tried to evade it,
I now have them all.

I do not worry,
what some people think or say,
I walk my own paths.

All’s copyrighted,
but I use all, all the time,
I hope it’s all right.

My chocolate friends,
tend to melt when I hug them,
they are sweet like that.

I followed the dots,
at the bottom of the page,
then I reached the end.

Sleep sneaked in my head,
and shut down my key functions,
except the ‘pee need’.

The newspaper fell,
with a rustling to the floor,
where it lay silent.

A chocolate treat,
a lovely cold Malteser;
you can’t just have one.

Malteser Bunnies,
have now invaded our fridge,
and they ambush me.

Keeping things just right,
in their place and findable,
so they can move on.

Time to take a walk,
breathe fresh air, and feel the sun,
and the wind as well.

I will be your friend,
and find out the things we share,
interests and fun.

I’m cleaning my space,
and making room for new things,
that will change my life.

I have a new view,
a refreshed and clear focus,
of what I will do.

I’m prepared for change,
that’s normal and expected;
I’ll change when it comes.

I am climbing up,
and looking for the handholds,
on this cliff face tale.

A green pool of ink,
holds the power to inspire me,
as I dip my pen.

Disruptions abound,
with nuisances that trouble.
and distract me so.

I am winding down,
can someone find the right key,
that will sound just right.

Taking tiny steps
on some little wet pebbles,
that fall far away.

The sun’s in the sky;
the hawk searches for its prey,
graceful and deadly,

My room is a mess,
I like to have dinner here,
in my uniform.