Winter’s coming soon, Cold outside and warm in hearts, At this time love blooms.

Twenty years ago On this day in September, Your life was taken. I remember you, From the news that awful day, But we’d never met. Those who knew you well, Know you still and love you well, May you rest in peace.

Thought it was Sankrit, But from Japanese it came, To English one day. Into Japanese, It came from Middle Chinese, Borrowed from Sanskrit.

Yesterday has passed, And today is almost gone, And tomorrow’s next.

In my heart an X, Is drawn each time I am hurt, Can they be crossed out?

In dusk the day lies, And slowly darkens to night, Secret kept till dawn.

When the gray fog lifts, And you see the underneath, The truth’s beautiful.

In silence may we, Find the courage to go on, And meet what’s ahead.

The absence of war, Or better yet a deeper, State of harmony.

A yearly challenge starting November first write 50,000 words.

From our mothers’ hearts, All the joy we find through life, Memories of us.

Down the block I hear, Children laughing high and clear, Carried with it hope.

Standing in between, Catching all the words that wound, Most invisibly.

No one wants to go, To it but when we do we, Are taken care of.

Everything makes sense, In the light of a clear day, Surrounded by love.

Doing the right thing, Isn’t easy but it is, Necessary now.

Buffeted by wind, Bringing its song to the world, Better days below.

Now it’s time to rest, When important work is done, With a clear conscience.

As soon as life starts, Time begins its relentless, Read to the ending.

Sometimes in the night, I hear your voice and I think, That’s what love sounds like.

When I die I’ll leave, The world as all enter it, Loving humankind. I will not give in, And allow hatred to steal, My humanity. I will write stories, And leave them ever after, To those who’ll read them.

Sometimes when we lose, Unexpectedly we find, That in truth we’ve won.

When life won’t be still, Take it as a sign that you, Must go where it goes.

With yellow I can, Draw the sun and happiness, Far from cowardly.

When I hear the sea, I feel that all things ancient, Are nearer to me.

When we meet the one, Who will love us from now on, Will we know it then?

The first draft is done, Now hard work truly begins, I must revise it.

Honey at sunrise, Sweetness and light all in one, Make the breath of dawn.

Grief is like a sound, In the heart that never dies, ‘Till death stops the beat.

Now I’m looking up, See a rainbow in the sky, All our hope and love.

If their world were real, Then the characters might say, Come and join us here.

In moonlight we walked, You took my hand and told me, How much you loved me.

The greatest gift is, Sitting and sharing stories, With someone you love.

Identity is, Something each one of us has, Must each be alone?

Water flowing swift, Takes me where it wants to lead, To a better me.

Stars pin-point the sky, Like characters in a book, We haven’t read yet.

When the moon shines bright, And night is still all around, Hope and goodness rise.

Singing in the trees, Laughter from the ground below, Carefree things we miss.

Time’s not on my side, When I try to do what I, Want to accomplish.

When I’m deep in words, Hours can go by without, My being aware. Is it kind of sad? That life can go by so fast, While we write of it.

Here’s your pillow soft, And your bed in darkness lies, See you at first light.

Sudden change might be, Scary but it also brings, Opportunity.

When it’s time to go, And the sunset’s beautiful, Gladly head for home.

With that sense of right, Save and then flick out the light, Story has been told.

Birdsong in the light, Smell of coffee fresh and clean, Call us to the day.

Stories write themselves, In a way that leaves no doubt, Magic does exist.

It is time to think, Of flowers blooming brightly, To give us some hope.

This is the last haiku of April. For the next six days, I’ll be posting story parts. Each story’s a gift, And together they add up, To give us all worlds.

With the color pink, Paint so many pretty things, And not just for girls.

When we write we are, Putting pieces of ourselves, Into a bottle.

We resemble flies, Buzzing on our planet’s corpse, Except we can love.

For today and the next five days, I plan to post a haiku. I’m having some problems with my computer (no data loss), so it might delay things, but I hope I’ll be able to post a story part on the last six days of April. If you get the call, In an instant of…

Today was supposed to be a story part, but I was delayed, so I’ve decided to post a haiku today and a story part tomorrow. Up on a shelf there, Is a book waiting to be, Read and loved again.

Imagination, Is the root of good fiction, Publish its flowers.

Tiny crowds within, Our bodies that we won’t know, Without microscopes.

If I write nothing, My characters will be hurt, And so I must write.

Stories always change, From idea to finished work, Don’t get too attached.

What if they say yes? Then a journey will begin, Is that good or bad?

Lazy afternoons, Spent sitting outside with you, Are just what I need.

Unwritten stories, Languish in a Writer’s mind, They must be told soon.

Tiny spark of life, One cell searching for a womb, To become our hope.

Surf pounds on the beach, Sunrise just an hour away, Be ready for life.

Love’s really something, Like a rainbow it is all, That is good for us.

If there is a chance, To do some good for others, Take it for yourself.

Birdsong a flower, Fresh with early morning dew, The night has been long.

Birds soar making us look graceless but our imagination flies high.

The vaccines will come, Now we must wait patiently, For that to occur.

Time has its strange ways, Through unhappy times it slows, Good times go too fast.

An eight-minute walk, If you could travel by light, Sun’s both far and near.

A white church stands still, Silently asking us to, Be kind to ourselves.

Trust is the key that, Unlocks the door to friendship, Do you change the lock?

Great white banks of snow, Frosting heaped on a cake that, Only nature bakes.

What we build right now, Is a foundation for the, Dreams of the future.

Thank you to all those, Who share good things with us all, You brighten my day.

Time is a monster, That takes from us all we love, But gives us that love.

Poisoned images, Work their way into our hearts, What are we sharing?

Finishing things up, Means less time for the moment, But more time later.

If you work hard now, You will be much rewarded, But when is unknown.

When we do damage, Most things can be fixed but not, Always in our hearts.

Wind and snow blowing, Gray sky will bring a lot more, Till this is over.

Cultivate goodness, It will reward all of us, But maybe not now.