of juicy watermelon
ripe and red and sweet
stepping back quickly—
a rattler ready to strike
warns me just in time
a change in her luck
after the sunflowers bloom—
adjusting the light
while using the cutting board
for chopping veggies
Something in the room,
perhaps dust in the closet,
seems to call my name.
arrayed on a stepladder—
Haiku © 2020 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More The Whirligig #282
More Writers’ Pantry #36 at Poets and Storytellers United
In a little storybook that I read both day and night,
A man heaps feast-food on some plates, but keeps them out of sight.
His wrinkled visage dares to me reach for juice or wine,
But when I do, he slaps me with twisted fishing line.
My luck is next to nothing, I’m down and out, you see;
The table spread before me was never meant for me.
If you have hair, it’s easy to charm the serving-man
Who keeps the sideboard groaning with cake and wine and flan.
But if your hair is thinning and showing roots of grey,
The keeper of the sideboard will swat your hands away.
The moral of my story, if moral there may be:
There’s nothing wrong with hair dye, or using flattery!
Poem © 2018 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Sunday’s Whirligig #189
More Poetry Pantry #430 at Poets United
Castoff piece of dinnerware, Sonoran Desert, Southern Arizona
Kobayashi Issa’s haiku about a plum tree at the gate, along with a piece of broken plate to illustrate the scene, inspires me to write a new haiku:
the family’s good fortune
plum tree at the gate
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