thank you winter, for letting the spring in: a haibun

When I was young there was this Koreanovela titled Winter Sonata, a part of a series titled Endless Love. I was nine or maybe 10, innocent and clueless, but that was my first encounter with you— season of snowflakes and magic.

It has been more or less three decades and you remain a dream to me. To watch how your fairy flakes fall ever so slowly, from heaven to the waiting parched earth. How your tiny drops can eventually cover a city’s entire map. How you serve as natural soundproofing, silencing the murmurs of the earth for a few months.

While some links your beauty with gloom and doom (let’s face it, you can also be cruel), but as was written, “What’s essential is invisible to the eye”, we, we mere mortals were not able to witness the kingdom you protect behind your thick coating. We do not know that inside you sleep pregnant seeds and there you nurture them away from any predators. And how unselfishly you melt, little by little, vacating the streets and roads you conquered, knowing it’s time for births, and it’s time for you to go.

Under white blanket,
hide so patient, tender twigs.
Hello, spring sunshine.

02.04.2020
©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
For dVerse Haibun Monday 2/3/2020: Spring
Let’s put a little spring into our step today, shall we? Let’s spring into action. Or let’s just enjoy that first taste of spring. After all, Punxsutawney Phil predicted an early Spring on Ground Hog’s Day. Yesterday’s temperatures, at least in New York’s backyard, warmed to spring low temperatures.

earth’s striptease: a haiku

asphalt road in white,
absent leaves, abandoned twigs,
fresh year undresses.

12.16.2019
©2019 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash
For Frank’s #Haikai Challenge #117 (12/14/19): Midwinter (mafuyu)/Midsummer (manastu) #haiku #senryu #haibun #tanka #haiga #renga
My upcoming book, Poems for S is up for pre-order. See it here: https://amzn.to/2CSrGAU .
Mockup for Facebook image_v2

w i n t e r g u m s

Cold against the bare skin
of warm, deep-lined palm,

colder like a December midnight
against the tastebuds of tongue.

Brick-hard on top of a hand—
so fragile and so soft.

Sweet, chewy ‘side the calcium cave
with teeth-made loft.

Perhaps, humans are winter gums—
sugar-coated, guarded, armored
at first glance,

melting, undressing, when inside
a found home with sincere,
summer warmth.

08.25.2018
©2018 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo via Unsplash

For dVerse Mindfulness and Poetry.
Here is the gum I held to birth this poem. 🙂

2018-09-26 12.51.43 1.jpg

 

stubborn: a senryu duet

Stubborn thoughts surface
refusing to hibernate
in winter’s cold breast.

Mind’s cotyledons
cracking the thick bed of snow
‘fore the first spring bloom.

12.27.2017
F.T. Ledrew x R. C. Gonzales

(Remember Thomas, friends and poets? 😀 Who missed him like I did?! Raise your hands! 😀
P.S. Thank you for this first collab, Thomas! ;))

All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

mummed magic

the scarlet leaf
of the almost bare autumn tree,
s  l  o  w  l  y , ever s  l  o  w  l  y ,
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
from its home twig
to its grave earth.

the crystal snowflake
of the heavy, winter cloud
g e n t l y , ever g e n t l y ,
d
e
s
c
e
n
d
i
n
g
from its throne in heaven
to its melting ground.

the brave sprout
of the fresh, spring seed
s o f t l y , ever s o f t l y ,
e
s
c
a
p
i
n
g
its cotyledons’ cave
towards the sky’s bright, open shade.

the soft, infant rays
of the smiling, summer sun
g e n t l y , ever g e n t l y,
b
u
r
s
t
i
n
g
into tiny sparkles of warmth
to kiss the waiting land.

these are earth’s mummed magic,
they need no noise to be majestic.

P.S. Is it evident that I fantasize about four seasons too much? 😀
09.06.2017
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo by Matt Lewis on Unsplash

In response to Magic by Paul of paul scribbles.
So my poetic pals, your task if you choose to accept it, is to pen a poem using the word MAGIC in some form or write a piece that is quite simply MAGICAL. You know you can.
dverse

Dear Seasons

Like an elusive dream I silently hope to see how you undress—
from cold white to fresh green then to shy yellow and then to scarlet red,
from freckled to plump and lush to skinny and then to skeletal bare.

Like an enchanting perfume I secretly imagine your scent change—
from chilling trace of frost to charming whiff of blooming flowers
and then to sweet vibrant smell of the sun and finally to loamy, rustic earth aroma.

Like a locked desire I hope to bask my senses into your stunning metamorphosis,
my dear seasons.

Note: Living in a country with two seasons (wet and dry), autumn and winter have been my fascinations since I am a little girl. This is why they are mostly the inspirations of my poems and fictions. 😉
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Unsplash

In response to dVerse‘s Open Link Night # 182 by Bodhirose  who wrote about Florida’s Fall.

dverse

 

Cherry Lips

Our old cherry tree is pregnant again with its plump, bloody, cheerful fruits,
which always remind me of your red lips as soft as the sound of the flute—
until that wintry day came and turned them so blue and oh, so cold.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Inma Ibáñez 


I miss three-lining! ❤

In response to Sonya of Only 100 Words‘ Three Line Tales Week Twenty-Seven.

If you want to join, here are the simple rules:

  • Write three lines inspired by the photo prompt.
  • Link back to this post.
  • Tag your post with 3LineTales (so we can find you in the Reader).
  • Read and comment on other TLT participants’ lines.
  • Have fun.

Resurrected Warmth

wayra

Resurrected Warmth: A Wayra

Winter’s biting frost,
Arctic wind’s chilling whispers,
crawling, creeping, ‘tween us,
waking ev’ry bones, nerves,
resurrects warm bodies once dead.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Unsplash


In response to May Book Prompts –  by Sarah Doughty and MahWrites.

Today’s prompt is Warm Bodies (Warm Bodies, #1) by Isaac Marion.

Warm Bodies (Warm Bodies, #1)

*Wayra

  • a pentastich, a poem in 5 lines.
  • syllabic, 5-7-7-6-8
  • unrhymed.

Yearn: A Ya-Du

y

Yearn: A Ya-Du
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer


Chill starts the year
harbinger’s breeze
winter’s here to
comfort your heart,
freeze the pieces torn apart.

Let cold build back
your heart’s track to
attract and feel
it’s once hot fire
ready for spring’s fresh desire.

Photo credit: Natasha Vasiljeva


In response to Blogging from A to Z ChallengeY is for Ya-Du

Ya Du

The Ya-Du or ritú (season) is stanzaic form dedicated to the seasons. The theme should express the emotions the seasons evoke. The form is a 15th century Burmese pattern using a climbing rhyme.

The Ya-Du is:

  • syllabic. L1-L4 tetrasyllabic (4) and L5 may be 5,7, 9, or 11 syllables. 4-4-4-4-(5,7,9, or 11)
  • stanzaic, written in no more than 3 cinquains.
  • rhymed. The form employs a climbing rhyme in which the 4th syllable of L1 rhymes with the 3rd syllable of L2 and the 2nd syllable of L3. L4 and L5 end rhyme.
  • dedicated to the seasons and the emotions they evoke.

    x x x a
    x x a x
    x a x x
    x x x b
    x x x x b or x x x x x x b etc

Missed a letter/poem? Read all Poetry from A-Z here.

Winter’s Dance*

winter

Winter’s Dance*

*A collaboration with my Queen of Sonnets,who I consider a dear friend,  Melinda Kucsera of In Media Res.

Melinda, an eloquent poetess and a gifted fantasy writer, is the author of epic fantasy adventure Stars and Angel Sing. Visit her blog and take a thrilling journey as she takes you to the enchanted world of Shayari.


Winter’s Dance

Barren land blanketed with brilliant white
Sparkling ice crusts  all dripping icicles
Bare twigs displays stalactites, stalagmites
All part of the season’s endless cycles
Winter land’s fresh page is like a clean slate
Covering up Autumn’s leafy decay
With crystalline frost Arctic winds create
Blowing snow drifts that fly over the quay
Flushed cheeks, reddened ears, blue-tinged lips, freezing
As I turn figure eights ‘round the iced lake
Teeth chatter as frostbites come with cold seeping
But I spin and ice dance without a break
In sync with the whispers of frost, I twirl
Letting go of all my cares as I whirl.

Image Credit: Pixabay

My deepest thanks to you, Mel!
It is always an honour to share
a single pen with you.
Now I know how to write sonnets,
and it’s because of you!