Sarah Potter Writes

Pursued by the Muses of prose and poetry

Archive for the tag “winter”

Monday Morning #Haiku 183, 184 & 185 — January

January rain,
shimmering pathways, blank skies,
and a lone walker.
January wind,
bending trees, lashing wetness,
and a happy dog.
January days,
sleeping snails, stirring shoots,
and a hoe at rest.

Monday Morning #Haiku 182 — Hydrangea (02)

Shelter for new buds:
dried hydrangea flowerheads
shield against frost.

Monday Morning #Haiku 180 — Sunrise (02)

December sunrise
Nature’s answer to Christmas
Heavenly bauble

Monday Morning #Haiku 142 — Solid White


Hard to tell apart
chalk rocks mixed with blocks of ice…
winter assortment.

Monday Morning #Haiku 133 & 134 — Unwhite Christmas



December in bloom,
kissed by winds from the Azores:
Jack Frost in exile.

Father Christmas wilts
and casts his clothes from the sleigh:
yearns for good old days.



Monday Morning #Haiku 94 — Hibernating Snail

hibernating snail

Fed by detritus,
new leaves spring forth undeterred.
Snails still asleep.

Monday Morning #Haiku 93 — Winter Tree

Tangled Branches

 Tangle of branches
Medlar pear tree stands naked
Shouts asymmetry

Monday Morning #Haiku 92 — Pigeons


Pigeon lawn party
Culinary delights lurk
Beaks to the ready

Monday Morning #Haiku 90 — Flint

Flint & Sticks

Too damp to spark fire,
flint and sticks lie abandoned
in muted woodland.

Monday Morning #Haiku 89 — Snowflakes

January snowfall (nighttime)

Cushioned by night hush,
hear the ploff of snow falling
in time with your heart.

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