A Reverie of Wordled Haiku

The rose sits ruffled
against the fence; hungry goats
rip and tear at leaves.

Pomegranate dusk
hangs heavy; pencils replace
swimsuits, sand and sun.

Honey crisp apples
sliced in a pie; recipe
for fault forgiven.

Picnic essentials
of blanket and wine; empty
bottles sleep content.

Icy water flows;
the drawbridge operator
gone without a trace.

Thick tree limbs fell hard
during the storm; the chain link
bent beyond repair.

Prompts: I used the Wordle words for this week to complete Joseph Harker’s Reverie prompt to write at least five haiku, correctly in the traditional way; no playing with form, syllable count or seasonal nature images.  He gives a great tutorial on how to accomplish that and I enjoyed the exercise.


Tomato Jam

tomato jam thick
with tangy lemon slices
brings back summer’s warmth
The air hung heavy and thick at my grandparents’ house.  The humid Illinois air held onto smells that never lingered in the arid air of my California home.  Their basement smelled musty, warm and damp from the wringer washing machine.  A basket under the laundry chute caught the toys and clothes we dropped down from the upstairs hallway; the basement aroma rising through the chute to greet us.  We tossed birdseed on the back lawn and caught fireflies in jars.  We baked sugar cookies, thin and crisp.  I have my grandma’s recipe for those cookies — and for the tomato jam we spread on toast for breakfast.