Apologies to those who’ve seen this before, but I couldn’t write anything more appropriate than this one, written in 2009.
Break Fast
Up through a heap of sugared beech leaves,
I poke my nose, whiffle the air.
No. It’s not yet time.
I wake to hungry rumbling
but no scent of juicy mollusc greets me
and I cannot stand the cold.
Back to sleep until Spring.
*
It’s the end of a perfect dream
of moistened, creeping worms,
and willing females.
I snuffle again and honeyed air
meets my cautious nose.
Hmm, I think. That’s better.
Ah yes, the time has come
to leave my winter bed of fleas,
to feast and make love,
carefully.
fabulous, it brought a whiff of old days with it, reminded me of the maidens of innocent, rustic way of living. why? i dont know. may be thats where the magic of a poem lies- reader sees her own world in it.
trisha
http://sharmishthabasu.wordpress.com/2011/03/16/breakfast/
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I agree – poems can never mean the same to every reader,
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Prickles, bears, all hibernating. Now that is a fast I would want to break, umm, fast. OK…quickly. A wonderful exploration.
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Ah, this is fantastic! Playful personification.
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A sure delight … there is just something about Spring ~~
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I remember this! Great poem.
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I thought it was about the groundhog. I’m expecting six more weeks of winter.
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I don’t know what a groundhog is. If it’s the same as a hedgehog, then you’ve hit on the right answer. More winter? Yoicks, I’d emigrate if I were you. Spring is bustin’ out all over here, though nothing’s safe before les Saintes Glaces (the Ice Saints, 10th, 11th and 12th of May).
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Here in the States, we have Groundhog Day printed on the calendars for February 2nd. An official groundhog, Punxsutawney Phil, a burrowing rodent residing in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, is forced from his den on that day, and legend has it, if it sees its shadow, we will have six more weeks of winter. This year was one of the few I remember in which it did not see its shadow. I believe there was a blizzard on that day.
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I remember this too. It has got better with time – like a claret.
Spring is here in Sleights:
On a new primrose
A spring nymphalid shivers
Sucking with delight
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Thank you, Harry. It underwent a considerable re-vamp during Bill Greenwell’s workshop last year.
I love your joyful haiku. We have lots of primroses and the butterflies are getting active again with the delicious w a r m sunshine we have had the last three days – I too am shivering with delight.
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I love this! Mr Bear, awakening……
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erm. Forget Mister Bear – think prickles!
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Lovely to read it again. ‘whiffle’ – I must remember this word.
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