Bits & Pieces

 

IMG_1083

 

I had three haiku published in issue #61 of hedgerow, a journal of small poems last week. 

 

old nest box…                                    
a flurry of blue birds
before the snow

 

(hedgerow #61)

 

roasted chestnuts–
how could I forget
your laughter?

 

(hedgerow #61)

.

my dog leaps
into still night water
to fetch the moon

 

(hedgerow #61)

 

 

fountain pen 1

 

Small Poems for a Cold Winter Day

10365995_10202268232493804_406270307332669213_n

 

In my last posting here,  I put up a new haiga that was just published in cattails, January 2016, the journal of the United Haiku and Tanka Society, but I was really very fortunate this time round in having three other poems published in the same issue: a haiku, a senryu, and a tanka.

 

cattails, January 2016, haiku, p. 8:

 

winter—
each day closing in
on itself

 

cattails, January 2016, tanka, p. 4: 

 

chased away
by a gang of crows
the red-tailed hawk—
being different
is never easy

 

 

cattails, January 2016, senryu, p. 9:

 

black Friday—
the vultures circle
round and round

 

Migraine (haiga)

Published in cattails, January 2016:

Kendall migraine haiga 1

haiku and photography by Mary Kendall (c) 2016

Charlotte’s Story: Haiku for Wilbur by Mary Kendall (ME, IN FICTION Poetry and Prose Series)

silverbirchpress's avatarSilver Birch Press

Charlottes-Web-Terrific-Garth-Williams1Charlotte’s Story: Haiku for Wilbur
by Mary Kendall

“My Words”

my words—
who knew what a story
we’d become?

“First Friend”

a friend—
something my kind
never knew

“The Unexpected”

new friend—
silken parachutes in spring wind
bestow surprises

“Silken Words”

silken words…
hearts woven together
in their own story

“Some Pig”

little did they know
how special you were—
some pig!

“Terrific”

a real friend
who accepted me as I am…
terrific!

“Radiant”

just knowing
you have a good friend…
this radiant heart

“I Told You”

out of nowhere
grows the best thing…
kindness of spirit

“Humble”

humble—
your kindness of heart
my friend

“The Fair”

harvest moon—
who knew how high
we’d fly?

“Templeton”

even a rat
can help a friend..
who knew?

“My Time”

time for rest
my voice a whisper
…alone now

“Good-bye”

no need to worry—
our memories will live on
in your heart

“Death”

View original post 261 more words

Fly me to the moon…haiku for the season

moon2

Full Moon of the Winter Solstice (c) 2010 Martin Liebermann

 

As I post this, it is the morning of the winter solstice of 2015. Where I live in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, the winter solstice officially happens tonight at 11:49 pm, EST. Wherever YOU are, it will happen at a different hour or perhaps the same. Readers of this blog come from all over the world–one of the joys in blogging is seeing the list of countries of readers–and I love imagining the moon going through its magical phases for each of you. Tonight, the solstice. Later this week, a full moon. What more could we want?

 

 

 

These are some of my earliest haiku:

 

WINTER MOON HAIKU

First published on Poets Online (c) Mary Kendall

Later used as lyrics in “Winter Moon” by Paul Carey, a piece for women’s chorus in (c) 2011.

 

night snow
boughs dreaming
of first blossoms

 

Fog filled woods~
even the winter moon
has lost its way

 

a winter walk
footprints
tell no tales

 

the blue moon
silently closes the door
upon the year

 

 

The Gleaners

The Gleaners

This beautiful photo was taken by a friend, Patti Hardee Donnelly. Patti is a Middle School Language Arts Teacher at the same school I retired from. Each grade level does regular community service, and the activities are varied. Last month, Patti took her Middle School Advisory to spend an afternoon of gleaning sweet potato fields. As they were working through the fields, Patti took this photograph. She very kindly let me ‘borrow’ it for this haiga.

The concept of gleaning is an ancient one. So long as people have planted fields of crops, others have followed in their wake to glean whatever food might be left behind. It doesn’t matter if the vegetables are picture perfect, so much as they provide food for those who are without. Taking a group of middle class students who are in no danger of starving is a very purposeful way of both doing community service and providing a life lesson to the students. The gleaned sweet potatoes do end up on dinner tables of people who are happy to have healthy, fresh produce. The students who do the gleaning, perhaps for the first and last time of their lives, surely learn a lot about the facts of poverty and hunger. They learn a lesson in simple compassion. How often do most of us come face to face with the pain of hunger? The answer for the majority of Americans is ‘rarely.’

Here in the United States, we have just celebrated Thanksgiving, a time in which we feast and share our meal with those we love. Soon our thoughts will move on to Christmas, Hannukah, Kwanza, winter solstice, New Year’s and a whole period of seasonal gift giving, sharing food and good spirit. Let’s stop for just a minute and think about all we are fortunate to have–we who go to bed in a comfortable place after having had adequate meals. For December, I’m going to spend some time thinking about the concept of gleaning, both the physical and metaphorical. Having borrowed Patti’s beautiful photo and ‘gleaned’ it for my haiga, I hope I can find other ways to give back to the world.

Thank you, Patti Hardee Donnelly, for allowing me to use this picture, but thank you also for teaching your students about the importance of compassion and service to others. I will always celebrate and salute teachers like you who make a real difference in so many lives.

 

the gleaners

Jean-François Millet (1814-1875)
Gleaners, also called, The Gleaners
1857
Oil on canvas
H. 83.5; W. 110 cm
© RMN-Grand Palais (Musée d’Orsay) / Jean Schormans