What will you give me?

 What will you give me? 

Japanese  poems 

Liquid gold poured in the cracks 

Haiku perfection 

A haiku’s a thought

Winging straight as an arrow 

Clarified clearly 

What will you give me for this verse, this small quite neatly formed 

this thought-provoking piece of poetry 

in haiku form? 

I wrote it yesterday when feeling flat 

In need of cheer and occupation. 

It took perhaps an hour, not much more, including polishing and shine 

till it felt mine 

In haiku form 

So what will you give me for this verse 

the price of a juicy pear? 

Or flowers, hyacinths in pots, emerging from the dark 

or woolly socks, hand-made in stripes 

or a song to sing to sleep? 

I’d have to concur if you would suggest 

pricing poetry’s really tricky

and ditto of course for painting or pot 

for aria symphony song 

If you’re starving or shivering, lacking shelter or home 

what use is the product of art? 

Could a sonnet be priceless, an ode full of love 

a haiku clarify clearly? 

So what will you give me for this verse 

are you tempted to make an offer? 

I’m sending it off, no pressure no cost 

consider it gifted, it’s yours, with a smile. 

28th January 2021 Hounoux 

Harbingers

Harbingers  

January sky grey scale 

landscape unlovely, in battleground fatigues

dun drear drab 

though snow has sugar-iced the Pyrenees 

and tiny hopeful harbingers, three snowdrops 

signal Spring 

26th January 2021 Hounoux 

Climate changing here

 Climate changing here 

The climate changing in our garden

this midwinter

encouraged unwise plants in pots

summer’s marguerites, impatiens

perkily in pink, and lobelia 

( who normally will flag and shrivel, fragile flowers). 

All however bloomed and brightened autumn months 

quite wrong, but lovely as we locked ourselves in winter 

not much cheer. 

Till sudden snow fell

cold blanket, beautiful killer 

chiller on the terrace 

crime scene, climate changing here. 

26th January 2021 Hounoux

All-weather man

 All-weather man 

Monty strides, pack leader, dogs eddying 

all passion and purpose 

Longmeadow presently bewintered 

pleached limes, rimed

bare arms outstretched 

hard earth iron ring/ sing 

all-weather man. 

Quietly he pots and plans cutting and curbing 

where hoodlums rampage, overrun 

his quiet vision sowing, growing 

foot on spade, fingers in the soil. 

Monty strides, on a mission 

Longmeadow’s all-weather man.    

16th January 2021 Hounoux