Do daffodilsgrow in Australia?Only in springtime. Kim M. Russell, 7th October 2020 My response to Carpe Diem Celebrates Its 8th Anniversary October 2020: Carpe Diem #1832 Narcissus (Daffodils) Today’s prompt is from October 2012, ‘narcissus’ (daffodil), a late winter kigo, because they are are early Spring (or late winter) flowers.
The morning walk takes us to an otherworldly place where winter aconites grow and butter the park like toast. They fill the air with a spring glow, Persephone’s annual boast, a fanfare to the sea swell, the burgeoning tsunami yellow of crocuses and daffodils. Kim M. Russell, 10th February 2020 My response to dVerse Poets […]
We are dazzled by brightly coloured lights the silver, gold and white, hanging above the busy street. Sparkles drip from trees and eaves – even the traffic lights flash with Christmas cheer. Above us, the sky is goose-feather grey, our noses sting with icy air and below our feet the path echoes with winter’s forge. […]
are sunshine condensed in a bulb embraced by soil, waiting to burst with yellow vitality… nature’s haiku spring everywhere. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Carpe Diem #1402 Daffodils (one-bun) Today our challenge is to create a ‘one-bun’, a form that was invented by Jim Kacian. It is an ultra-short haibun which has just […]
modest daffodils nod in secluded gardens radiating sun they raise their yellow trumpets resonate golden silence Kim M. Russell, 2017 My response to Carpe Diem Namasté The Spiritual Way #5 self consciousness In a new episode of ‘weekend-meditation’, Chèvrefeuille has shared a poem by the poet Thomas Hood (1799-1845), which he says can be read […]
My response to dVerse Poets Pub Haibun Monday #12 – Beauty in decay It’s a rainy Tuesday morning near the end of April. A chill wind tosses the willows, shaking young leaves that drip with icy rain. Spring buds and blooms are fearful. The daffodils in the vase have antiqued and their papery petals are […]
The clatter of Sunday walkers’ Boots and walking sticks echoes loud As they pass through the yawning village Until it is swallowed By early morning mist and cloud In the hedgerows Daffodils stand proud A smear of buttery sunshine But an edge of something lingers A taste of frost The smell of undergrowth Numbness in […]