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# / Author
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DCI
Zhanna P. Rader
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The moonlight
on this jasmine-scented night —
her love fantasies...
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DCII
Michele Harvey
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an apology
in the form of a kiss...
migrating butterflies
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DCIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Wet rocks
by the gull-loud sea —
here I dream of you.
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DCIV
Trish Shields
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condensation drips
down the car's windows
our last kiss
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DCV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Summer vacations —
she paves her way to his heart
through his ego.
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DCVI
Hortensia Anderson
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Lovers embrace
through apricot blossoms —
Oh the glow!
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DCVII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Shiny, gold chain —
she hangs his Valentine gift
on her nipple.
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DCVIII
Robert D. Wilson
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more than a
flower courting spring,
your scent!
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DCIX
Hugh Bygott
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Wayward garden —
lavender caresses her bare legs . . .
would that I might too . . .
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DCX
Zhanna P. Rader
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Skirt tucked up high,
she wades the shoreline water —
all legs.
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DCXI
Hugh Bygott
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In the fragrant dusk
we delight in the after-glow . . .
this art of love!
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DCXII
Robert D. Wilson
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this full moon . . .
your lips glisten
with someday
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DCXIII
Hugh Bygott
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Her fingers or by chance?
Her undersash is untied . . .
coolness of slip’d silk.
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| For this idea of shitahimo in Medieval Japanese Court Poetry see my forthcoming The Waka Tradition. HB |
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DCXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Her need to be loved . . .
but even in this spring dusk,
an imagined man.
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DCXV
Hugh Bygott
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Artful autumn wind —
Her billowing skirt reveals
such sweet delights.
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DCXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Departing birds —
on her love letter,
a smeared teardrop.
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DCXVII
Trish Shields
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mint clouds —
condensation
forms between us
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DCXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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The lifeguard's
bronze and muscular body —
even Grandma watches.
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DCXIX
Hugh Bygott
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Threading a summer crowd . . .
Her red lips and lacquer’d nails
deepen Eros’ wound . . .
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DCXX
Zhanna P. Rader
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Chill in his house —
I put on lipstick,
fiery red.
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| It was published in Wind Chimes, #23, 1988 |
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DCXXI
Hugh Bygott
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Last snow lingers
on the newly blossomed plum . . .
these doubts of Eros.
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DCXXII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Snowmelt —
his loving smile...
but not for me.
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DCXXIII
Michele Harvey
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purple asters —
from under her lashes
she feels his gaze
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DCXXV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Sea breeze
plays with your sun-lit hair...
I dream of touching.
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DCXXIV
Michele Harvey
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autumn leaves...
the rustle of sheets
against skin
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DCXXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Cherry blossoms —
the virtual love's
magnetic pull.
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DCXXVII
Michele Harvey
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errant husband...
the buzz of honeybees
in the goldenrod
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DCXXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Snowy winter —
her feeling attractive keeps
their love fire burning.
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DCXXIX
Hortensia Anderson
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Rose petal dust
in an antique diary —
the pages blush
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That is real good, Hortensia. :) Very original. Zhanna |
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DCXXX
Zhanna P. Rader
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Ball dances:
whether it's rumba or tango,
her teasing hips...
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| This is my 200th Eros haiku in this sequence. :) |
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DCXXXI
Hugh Bygott
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Latticed moon —
In winter nights how darkly we see,
even with Eros.
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DCXXXII
Michele Harvey
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spurned...
the bitter smell
of marigolds
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DCXXXIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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She wakes up
next to an empty pillow —
the icy moon...
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DCXXXIV
Hugh Bygott
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The first instance
of intimacy - a time fragment that flees
as a wind blown petal.
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DCXXXV
Zhanna P. Rader
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A wind-blown leaf
caught in her dark, curly hair —
my first chance to touch her.
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DCXXXVI
Michele Harvey
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autumn romance
the sun-tanned blush
of hydrangeas
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Please note: hydrangeas bloom white and turn copper as they age, blushing pink at the tips as frost comes on. Cheers.
Hydrangea bloom colours are determined by the soil. Alkaline lime makes for pink petals whilst acidic aluminium makes for blue. The six varieties of Macrophylla can be altered to psychedelic purple and mauve-red! The Serrata bloom white (chlorophyll makes them look green - my favourite) and they do "tan" from sun and lack of water ("hydra" - water). I know this because in many languages, I AM a hydrangea!
Wonderful use of "my blush" ;-)
- hortensia |
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DCXXXVII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Crystal-clear spring...
but I'm thirsty for your lips,
for your eyes.
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DCXXXVIII
Trish Shields
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love letters
beneath her pillow —
withered blooms
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DCXXXIX
Hortensia Anderson
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moonlight...
her tuberose perfume
escapes her shadow
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DCXL
Zhanna P. Rader
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Never revealing
what's in her heart —
Russian White Birch.
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DCXLI
Hugh Bygott
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The harvest moon
seems larger than it really is . . .
How alike to Love !
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DCXLII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Plum blossoms —
the new object of her love's perfect,
she believes... again.
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DCXLIII
Trish Shields
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a dove's feather —
her caress lingers
as years pass
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DCXLIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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His tender touch
upon a Passion Flower —
quivering petals.
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DCXLV
Hugh Bygott
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This fragile beauty,
the newly blossoming plum —
her love remembered.
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| Dedicated to a wife who has departed this world. HB |
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DCXLVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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My secret love…
a thought scared away by
an owl’s loud “Who!”
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| Published in Ko, 1987, Autunm-Winter) |
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DCXLVII
Hugh Bygott
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The crimson waters
of fading summer sunset:
thus our passion passes.
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| With acknowledgement to Vasîly Zhukôvsky 1824. HB |
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DCXLVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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The midnight moon
shines dimly through the fog —
Svetlana's dreams...
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| With acknowledgement to the same author. |
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DCXLIX
Hugh Bygott
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Autumn leaves still cling . . .
our love silences foretell
a withered dream.
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DCL
Zhanna P. Rader
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With a whiff of wind
the scent of fallen leaves -
nostalgic memories...
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