Nearly

After six and a half months with me,

my shy and wary cat almost licks my finger. 

I scratch gently behind her ear. This time 

she turns her head, sniffs my knuckle, 

pokes out the tip of her tiny tongue ...

then pauses, draws back, and pretends sleep.

Written for #Awake August 2016 

Circle Dancers

they dance and sway
in colourful dresses –
flowers in the breeze

Three haiku

I stop sneezing

the same day the sun returns –

has winter gone?

******

my black cat 

called Moon Goddess

lies in bright sun

******

bare trees

after the windstorm

empty sky


Linked to The Tuesday Platform at 'imaginary garden with real toads'

Winter Sun haiku /senryu

winter sun

my cat stretches

one long paw

      ***

winter sun

frangipani leaves

through the blind

      ***

winter sun

thinking of a walk

I fall asleep

Wet weather haiku

rainy weekend

my cat curls all day

on the couch

streets awash –

between downpours

faint bird-song

Written for Project 366, where I am a guest this month.

This Photo

This photo shows, only to me, 

my wind chimes' mellow notes; 

kids whistling, calling each other; 

the flurry of a sudden bird;

the damp smell of the rain.

Annoyance

Wet day,
the rain persistent.
I pull out my small black folding
brolly – but
the switch to open and shut it
detaches, drops, vanishes.
Wet day.

Welcome

'Welcome, black cat',
says my house.

Domestic Vignette

Rain falls soft and steady.

I open my door to the cool.

My small black cat

moves further inside the house
to sprawl on the bare coffee table.