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# / Author
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MI
Betty Kaplan
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Lingering Day...
if only time together
could go on, on, on
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MII
Terry A. Steudlein
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hand in hand
they pass the stop sign...
entering tomorrow
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MIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Nothing personal:
a symbiotic, spring love
between two poets...
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MIV
Hugh Bygott
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Pasqueflowers at dusk:
hand in hand we began the path...
now I walk alone.
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MV
Zhanna P. Rader
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From the rain,
her white dress becomes transparent —
she leans on me for warmth...
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MVI
Hugh Bygott
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Amid willows:
her reflection in still water;
leaves and words so alike!
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MVII
Robert D. Wilson
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underneath and
above the water
lovers catching stars
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MVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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We sail — the wind
pulls her backward by her hair...
"She's mine, you sexless air!"
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MIX
Michele Harvey
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tart apples...
that wind caresses her nape
before me!
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MX
Hugh Bygott
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Fields of lilies —
a woman’s body; a man’s lips...
these are fields of desire.
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MXI
Zhanna P. Rader
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This devil-wind
lifts up her wide skirt high —
but what gorgeous legs!
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MXII
Terry A. Steudlein
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willow legs
without looking back
she walks by
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MXIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Looking back:
all those spring loves,
just a mist.
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MXIV
Hugh Bygott
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Chapel silence —
Lilies placed, the young nun kneels...
this other kind of love.
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| I pick up the thread again on a serious note. How mysterious and magnificent love is in all its forms. HB] |
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MXV
Trish Shields
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my sister and I
looking at old photos
pressed flowers
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MXVI
Robert D. Wilson
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my best friend
sleeps beside me,
thawing winter
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MXVII
Hugh Bygott
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A briar rose has entwin'd
our once garden love-seat...
Those other sharper thorns.
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MXVIII
Terry A. Steudlein
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remembered words
whisper in the breeze
sharp thorns —
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MIX
Hugh Bygott
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Such shared innocence;
then, our virginal lips —
even this flower fades...
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| Ah, the memory of 50 years ago! HB |
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MXX
Terry A. Steudlein
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autumn mist —
can the days
pass so quickly
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MXXI
Hugh Bygott
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Slate grey sky —
a woman in red smiles at me
dispelling autumn gloom.
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MXXII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Her rain-soaked shirt
reveals two budding roses...
the wind conceals them.
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MXXIII
Michele Harvey
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autumn dawn
each rosy tip kissed
of her fingers
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MXXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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The moon reappears —
through the prism of water,
her body lines...
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MXXV
Robert D. Wilson
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too many
melons to pick from...
a short night
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MXXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Her melons
or her pumpkins?
He buys the latter.
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MXXVII
Robert D. Wilson
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sly devil...
opting for the pumpkins
instead of melons!
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MXXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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The lady's man:
buying her pumpkins,
he eyes her melons.
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MXXIX
Terry A. Steudlein
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intoxicated by the
scent of her melons
he asks for a taste
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MXXXX
Robert D. Wilson
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winter moon...
he thinks of warm
pumpkin pie
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MXXXI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Farm-market woman...
He hoped to find melons,
not lemons...
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MXXXII
Robert D. Wilson
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damn lemons!
he looks like a duck...
those puckered lips
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MXXXIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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He orders milk
but is served lemonade —
women!
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MXXXIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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Winter night —
a farmer dreams of melons
big as the moon.
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| Sorry that we have two of my haiku posted one after another. We usually do not do that. But unless someone places a haiku in-between the two of mine, it would have to stay that way, I guess. Zhanna |
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MXXXV
Robert D. Wilson
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full moon...
the smiling
farmer
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MXXXVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Through the windows
of his farm-house bedroom,
the smiling moon.
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MXXXVII
Robert D. Wilson
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gray skies...
she takes her time
. . . undressing
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MXXXVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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Dressed in white,
she walks with confidence —
plum-petal shower...
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MXXXIX
Michele Harvey
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moonrise...
the strap of her gown
further slips
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MXL
Zhanna P. Rader
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The round pearl
shining on her ear lobe —
this moonlit night.
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MXLI
Terry A. Steudlein
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silk and satin
shinning in moon light —
breathless
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MXLII
Zhanna P. Rader
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On the skater's thigh,
an accidental bruise...
treated with kisses.
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MXLIII
Robert D. Wilson
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when the stars
sleep, we make our own...
morning rain
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MXLIV
Zhanna P. Rader
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His cool skin
touches mine —
hot evening.
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MXLV
Robert D. Wilson
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the heat
framing your lips . . .
dancing moon
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MXLVI
Zhanna P. Rader
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Silky bed sheets —
a moonbeam gently
strokes your skin.
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MXLVII
Robert D. Wilson
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that tongue . . .
dipping moonlight
into darkness
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MXLVIII
Zhanna P. Rader
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A lonely beach walk —
she finds a ring inscribed
with "To my love."
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MXLIX
Robert D. Wilson
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thank you, moon . . .
a blossom finding her
way home
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ML
Zhanna P. Rader
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The young lady
touches the red rose...
touches my hand...
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