WINTER HAIKU

Soft white cat, pink ears.
restless, purring on my lap.
Outside, sleet falls slow.

Drops of broken rain.
Walk with me on frozen tears:
ice pregnant with light.

I can’t undo deeds
I did, nor redo deeds done.
Grant me grace to grow.

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JANUARY PROMPT #30: A Recipe

in the medium saucepan you bought at the fair, melt
one block of yellow Irish butter
one cup of coconut cream

smooth in
a smudge of Greg’s crystal clover honey
the scent of lemon
several costly saffron threads dissolved in sherry wine
allow to cool

meanwhile

in a marble mortar with a porphyry pestle crush:
cardamon
cinnamon
cumin
cloves

find a big brass bowl and fill with:
fine farina flour
sifted semolina
coarse French sea salt

use your father’s ash-handled carpenter’s hammer to crack:
black walnuts from the farm on the hill
butternuts from the library tree
discard the shells

with a sharp German chef’s knife on a Vermont Maple table chop:
the black walnuts from the farm on the hill
butternuts from the library tree
and canned macadamia nuts an old enemy mailed from Madagascar
set them aside in a blue clay bowl

With a wire whip whisk quickly into the fine farina flour,  salted semolina and coarse French sea salt the crushed cardamon, cinnamon, cumin, cloves.  Pour the melted, cooled yellow Irish butter and coconut cream with Greg’s crystal clover honey and scent of lemon, costly saffron and sherry wine over  the fine farina flour, sifted semolina and coarse French sea salt.   Mix well.    Oil your hands with coconut cream and knead the crushed cardamon, cinnamon, cumin and cloves, the cracked chopped black walnuts from the farm on the hill,  the cracked chopped butternuts from the library tree, and the chopped canned macadamia nuts an old enemy mailed from Madagascar into the melted and cooled butter and coconut cream with Greg’s crystal clover honey and scent of lemon, costly saffron and sherry wine, fine farina flour, sifted semolina and coarse French sea salt.

roll into small balls
place two inches apart on un-greased cooky sheets
dry in the sun
store in a tightly covered clear glass jar

 

From 2013

ROAD NOT TAKEN: Translation Party

Two roads in a yellow wood, I stood,
could have looked for one.  I know of one–
please turn down the bush
where a long branch of one person

is just as fair–
It probably has a better claim,
the grass is worn with other.
But to do so, just as I wore in passing, really.

Both that morning
had taken steps like leaves.
I have to be exactly as if I believe I am
still far from Ohio.

To my knowledge I have defended
the lead in a different way.
There are somewhere ages and ages
breathing a notice:

Two roads, one by one
what is the difference between my trip,
one of my little ones
to two single branches.

 

Tweaked, to clear it up somewhat.  I love the randomness of being “far from Ohio.”

FAVORITE FIGURES OF THE GERMAN: A Found Poem

 

The “German” is the most fashionable
dance in society.  It is a part
of the business of Life.

Some of the figures border on the romp.
One of these is called LaCorde.
This is a figure not to be commended.
Still less is the figure called Les Masques.

Les Bouquets brings in the favors.
A number of small bouquets and boutonnieres
are placed upon a table.
Other favors are frequently substituted:
rosettes, miniature flags, artificial
butterflies, badges, sashes, bonbons,
little bells, scarf-pins, bangles, fans,
caps, imitation antique coins,
breastpins, lace pins, lockets, shawls,
scarfs, vases, picture frames,
writing-desks and chairs.

No lady can refuse to dance.
So long as she remains
within the charmed circle

she must dance
with everyone in it.

~Found in Manners and Social Usages,
by Mrs. John Sherwood (author of “A Transplanted Rose”)
1884, revised in 1897

 

I can’t help but imagine a lady dancing with a writing desk. . . .

NO ONE LOOKS RIDICULOUS DANCING A QUADRILLE: a found poem

A sort of galop is allowed
in the rapid figures.

The young, old, stout, thin, lazy, active,
maimed or single, without loss of caste,

can dance a quadrille.  It makes
a break in a tete-a-tete conversation,

and enables a gentleman to be polite
to a lady who may not be a good dancer

for waltz or polka.  A defiant manner
assumed by a bashful man is out

of place, although there are certain
figures which make a man feel

rather defiant.  One of these
is where he is obliged as cavalier seul

to advance to three ladies
who frequently laugh at him.
 

~found in Manners and Social Usages,
by Mrs. John Sherwood (author of “A Transplanted Rose”)
1884, revised in 1897