Monday Morning #Haiku 66 –Queen Anne’s Lace

Cow parsley

White-lace takeover
Woods engulfed by cow parsley
Roadside verges too

Author: Sarah Potter Writes

Sarah is a British eccentric who writes offbeat fiction, haiku and tanka poetry. When stuck for words, she sketches or paints instead. She's into nature conservation, sustainability, gardening, dogs, natural health, and reading. Her sociability is something that happens in short bursts with long breathing spaces in between.

27 thoughts on “Monday Morning #Haiku 66 –Queen Anne’s Lace”

  1. This lovely poetic gift is so kind of you to shsre. Your finding this makes me feel it is a place to put a blanket near by to breathe deeply and get “filled” with natural wonder.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Your comment is poetry in it’s own right! I love spreading a blanket on the ground in the countryside and lying down on it: just to breathe in all the lovely scents, watch the clouds scud by, and listen to all the sounds of nature such as the bees and the birds. It’s the best kind of medicine.

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    1. Our wonderful isles are certainly making up for all the winter gloom in great and colourful style 🙂
      I’ve been buying lots of lovely plants and will be emailing you soon to tell you all about them, plus a long overdue general news update. xxxx

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  2. Hey, Sarah, you’ve a new profile photo [new to me, anyway, as I’m woefully behind on reading here at the end of the school year]! Anyway, I love it.
    As to this post specifically . . . I learn so much from reading your haikus, and I am grateful they appear with your photos; each Monday morning, I know I’m in store for a natural history lesson. You should be ‘rent a master gardener’ or something like that and someone can walkabout with you teaching them what’s out there in nature (or hybrids like city parks, urban meets nature).

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Leigh 🙂 My mother gave me a pile of my old exercise books from primary school yesterday. Looking at my marks, it seems that most of the 9/10s and 10/10s were awarded for Nature Study. There was one picture I had drawn of pond life, on and beneath the surface. My mallard duck was huge and colourful. Then there were water boatmen, water beetles, fish, newts, frogs, pond weed etc etc. Mister was laughing when he saw the picture (which took up an entire page of the exercise book) as he said it was the busiest pond in creation!
      I’d love to have a chance to teach people about the world around them. I can’t believe how many people are unable to name birds and wildflowers these days. As for speaking to the birds — I had a long conversation with a crow the other day (in crow language). My neighbours are used to me by now, I think — I hope 🙂

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      1. Very cool story, Sarah. Artistic talent is another thing I wish I had more of. I can emulate some things when I draw by hand, just as with ‘backup singing’ type of music (I guess you’d call it matching pitch or singing in tune), but could never make it as a soloist or a capella or anthing–for art or music. I can’t remember where I read recently that crows remember people who treat them well and, perhaps the people who mistreat them, too. If so, you’ve got friend(s) in high, avian places! 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Yes, I’ve read that about crows, too: that if someone mistreats one of them, all the crows for miles around will soon know about it!
        Singing in tune is okay for me still, but singing high notes is not okay anymore. Fortunately, talking to a crow requires sounds of a lower pitch.
        Drawing by hand is a good skill to have, Leigh, and very relaxing. Far more relaxing than singing 🙂

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      3. I can believe that about crows’ communications for sure, Sarah. I’m trying to learn duck dialogue these days, myself (ought I to be concentrating on human language, though?!).

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Your comment has triggered a memory about ducks. Once upon a time, when my son was aged 8 and I was enjoying the excuse to re-experience childhood anew, we went to visit a wildfowl sanctuary. Down by one of the ponds, I hid in some undergrowth and blew repeatedly upon a piece of fibrous grass held pinched between my thumbs (no doubt you’ve done this before, having tomboy tendencies, too!). Somehow I managed to make an extremely loud noise exactly like a duck — a rare duck at that. To my amusement, everybody started looking for this duck. But my son got frustrated because he couldn’t get his piece of grass to make the same noise and he wanted to be a duck, too.


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