Today’s haiku challenge:
My style is the five/seven/five syllable structure. Here are my 10 haiku poems:
rare is the day when
the dark cloud surrenders its
hold upon my head.
rare is the day when
depression recedes, and lets
me enjoy the sand.
rare is the day when
anxiety settles like
a cold tea kettle.
rare is the day when
I don’t think of you, of us,
and what once we had.
when in love you think
it’s a rare commodity —
but expendable.
like the love we had,
I thought was rare, fate even,
but it’s all gone now.
I held our rare love
between shaking hands like a
withering flower.
I thought you loved me
in the rare kind of way that
was everlasting.
it was a rare day
for the bee, he stopped buzzing,
his yellow shell blue.
No surprise: Lion
liked to eat his meat red, with
the blood dripping still.
