
Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.

Spring is when you feel like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.
This week I’ve written a Haiku inspired by this mornings walk with Ruby.
Cold frosty morning
Across frozen fields we tramp
Birds from frosted trees
Chirp having survived the night
Bleak midwinter’s harsh hello.
Winter has done her worst
Clinging, with frosty fingers
Refusing to tire
She clings on to her power
Keeping the young spring at bay
This Tanka is part of Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Haiku Challenge.
I have decided to write three Haiku, using the three forms I know, 5/7/5, 3/5/3 and 3/2/3.
I suffer from Raynaud’s disease it was undiganosed as a child so winter is full of cold memories. I also took the music of Tori Amos as an inspiration.
I missed last week’s due to my eyes but it’s not going away over night so I am pushing forward in to this new year happy to be in such great company.
in early winter
the earth stands frozen in time
hibernation’s key.
*****
Memories
Of winter that’s past
Dreaming time
*****
Winter
Solid earth
Waiting.
This is part of Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Haiku Challenge.
Trees shiver limbs bare
Roots struggle in frozen ground
Winter’s in full flare.
It is Sunday again and I do love a music prompt, not too much work involved, which is good for me as I still don’t feel like too much heavy lifting heavy blogging yet so I could not resist Jim Adams and his Song Lyric Sunday Challenge.
This week the prompt words are Cold/Freeze/Heat/Melt
On the hot side I immediately thought of Midnight Oil and one of best protest songs ( in my opinion) Beds are Burning . A protest song about how The Aborigines are treated. A fact how all Original races have been treated by invaders over time and even now all over the world.
“Beds Are Burning” is a 1987 song by the Australian rock band Midnight Oil, the first track from their album Diesel and Dust. This song was released as the second single from the album. It reached No. 1 in New Zealand, South Africa and Canada, No. 3 in the Netherlands, No. 5 in France, No. 6 in the United Kingdom, Australia and Ireland, No. 17 in the United States and Sweden.
After Midnight Oil toured through the Outback in 1986, playing to remote Aboriginal communities and seeing first hand the seriousness of the issues in health and living standards, Peter Garrett wrote “Beds Are Burning” to criticize how said populations were often forcibly removed from their lands, highlighted by the pre-chorus lines “it belongs to them, let’s give it back”. Considering such a local affair inspired a worldwide hit, Garrett commented “Who would have thought an Aboriginal land rights song would travel that far?”[4] There are specific references to certain Australian places and politics, such as Kintore Ranges and the town of Yuendumu, vehicles produced by the Holden company, the “It’s Time” slogan and the notion of “fair go“.[5]
“Beds Are Burning”
Out where the river broke
The blood-wood and the desert oak
Holden wrecks and boiling diesels
Steam in forty-five degrees
The time has come
To say fair’s fair
To pay the rent
To pay our share
The time has come
A fact’s a fact
It belongs to them
Let’s give it back
How can we dance
When our earth is turning
How do we sleep
While our beds are burning
How can we dance
When our earth is turning
How do we sleep
While our beds are burning
The time has come
To say fair’s fair
To pay the rent
Now to pay our share
Four wheels scare the cockatoos
From Kintore East to Yuendemu
The western desert lives and breathes
In forty-five degrees
The time has come
To say fair’s fair
To pay the rent
To pay our share
The time has come
A fact’s a fact
It belongs to them
Let’s give it back
How can we dance
When our earth is turning
How do we sleep
While our beds are burning
How can we dance
When our earth is turning
How do we sleep
While our beds are burning
The time has come
To say fair’s fair
To pay the rent now
To pay our share
The time has come
A fact’s a fact
It belongs to them
We’re gonna give it back
How can we dance
When our earth is turning
How do we sleep
While our beds are burning
And on the cold spectrum why not Annie Lennox and Cold. One of her most beautiful songs this one is very special to me. Not sure why because it is obviously all about a toxic relationship. It just goes to show you don’t pick your favourite songs they pick you.
“Cold” is a song by the British singer Annie Lennox. It was released as the fourth single from her 1992 album, Diva, and reached no. 26 in the UK. The single was released as a series of three separate CD singles, titled Cold, Colder and Coldest. Each CD featured the track “Cold” as well as a collection of live tracks. It was the first single to chart in the UK Top 40 without being released on vinyl, solely on CD.
That’s all for now Folks I am worn-out (Darn light weight)
Have a great Sunday everyone 😘
It’s the first of the month and you know what that means! Poets choose your own words.
This challenge is for Haiku, Senryu, Haiga, Tanka, Haibun, Etheree, Nonet, Shadorma, and Cinquain poetry forms.
So what to choose it is Autumn and all that entails so here we go. I think I will go with a Tanka. My two words are Cold and Dead. I believe the rules on the first of the month mean we don’t need synonyms. So here is an Autumnal Tanka.
This is part of Colleen’s Tuesday Tanka Challenge.
Cold, damp Autumn daysBurning leaves, and bonfire haze
Dark early, cosy up
Harvest in, the ground is dead
Hopes and dreams for life ahead.
Photo by NRD at Unsplash
Too Damn Hot.
Every evening Julia would find the fridge open! It was so annoying such a waste of energy.
With a sharp intake of breath she slammed it shut, checked on the evening meal and left the kitchen.
Julia never heard the frustrated scream of the Fridge. “Why put me next to the oven?”
(276 Characters)
This is part of Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales.
Autumn mists adorn the fields
It’s early yet and has an eerie feel.
There is not a soul to see
Only the mist, Ruby and me.
So we make our way around
Where a hoary silver paints the ground
The sun is trying to burn through
Above the mist are skies of blue
There is a faint pink tint to cloud
The mist still hanging like a shroud.
So we turn homeward bound
Past the old house our muffled tread makes no sound.
KL CALEY
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