Sketchbook  Trish Shields, CA

 

 

Mirror Cinquain Eclipsed midnight, then one and two o'clock, but still no show-- clear skies turned grey and then the rain began... I rose at five, peering through sleepy eyes, and still the blushing moon was cloaked in wreaths of slate Mariner echoes float on the breeze, pulling my thoughts along, downwards, to the depths of anguish... no word each day-- the sun rises and sets, and yet its warmth is dead to me; I think only of you.

 

 

Haiku winter sparkle snowdrop shares whiteness     frosted pansy between purple clouds, a twilight sky     thin ice silhouettes and shadows fill the empty night     march winds whoa! there goes.... magnolia petals     garden pond spring stirs petal by petal

 

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