
(Credit: Brigitte Tohm on Unsplash)
The camomile tea
Melts my frozen fingers, but
Your smile warms my heart
(Credit: Brigitte Tohm on Unsplash)
The camomile tea
Melts my frozen fingers, but
Your smile warms my heart
Posted by Beatrix MGN on January 9, 2018
https://abolg.wordpress.com/2018/01/09/warm/
(Credit: Igor Ovsyannykov on Unsplash)
They’re the greatest gift
That I have ever received
Loving family
Posted by Beatrix MGN on December 25, 2017
https://abolg.wordpress.com/2017/12/25/a-gift/
(Credit: From ‘The Sculptor’ by Scott McCloud)
So many want love
Even from total strangers
Earning it is rare
All ‘The Sculptor’ haiku are inspired by the comic ‘The Sculptor’ by Scott McCloud
Posted by Beatrix MGN on November 17, 2017
https://abolg.wordpress.com/2017/11/17/the-sculptor-7-of-7/
(Credit: From ‘The Sculptor’ by Scott McCloud)
He caresses stone
To him the curves seem warmer
Than any woman
All ‘The Sculptor’ haiku are inspired by the comic ‘The Sculptor’ by Scott McCloud
Posted by Beatrix MGN on November 16, 2017
https://abolg.wordpress.com/2017/11/16/the-sculptor-6-of-7/
(Credit: Nathan Walker on Unsplash)
Love?
Not in love with him
(No deep feelings at first sight)
But in lust with him
Posted by Beatrix MGN on October 24, 2017
https://abolg.wordpress.com/2017/10/24/modern-haiku-3-of-5/
(Credit: Broken by RCGraphics on DeviantArt)
Picking a piece of china from the floor,
Half a woman with a parasol in blue ink.
Would life be tidier if she were on her own?
Or emptier?
Picking a piece of mirror from the sink,
Six dark rimmed eyes stare out at her.
Would life be simpler alone?
Or lonelier?
Picking a shard of glass from her cheek,
She dabs at the blood with a Kleenex.
Would life be less painful?
Or more so?
Picking a shard of abuse from her mind,
She would never find anyone else.
Would the world be brighter?
Or would she be swallowed by the darkness?
Posted by Beatrix MGN on November 2, 2016
https://abolg.wordpress.com/2016/11/02/76-broken-pieces/
(Credit: js4853 on DeviantArt)
A skull half covered in sand.
Daffodils bound with a blue ribbon.
Both in front of a beach house.
The waves crash, agitated.
He must have known that daffodils are her favourite flower,
But it did not help him.
The wind picks up, uncovering more bones.
She did not throw him even a single scrap.
And he starved.
Posted by Beatrix MGN on September 28, 2016
https://abolg.wordpress.com/2016/09/28/79-starvation/