Osler's Razor

Change of life child,you
Were a welcome gift to her
Who had lost a boy.

How those neighbors talked!
But you never cared--gossip.
Horse's hair,Swiss tongue.

Then she who held you
In heart and on lap died,stroke,
Dad went on bender...

You were on your own
A gawky colt needing love
Milking cows for cash.

You crossed the street in
Madison,and a taxi
Broke your back. Alone.

Married a man who
Was on the rebound and had
Four kids to culture.

Told mesmerizing
Stories,arranged flowers,made
Glorious French bread.

The apricot tree
You planted from a pit shouts
Your name.Lilacs whisper.

One man truly loved
You. Southern bachelor farmer
Saved spider bit hand.


You loved children and
taught the joy of many things
Challenge was your fire.

They laid you in church-
Yard in the country,wheat waved
As the wind played hymns.

How you loved that wind!
Loved the barren plains,the work
Loved your man so fierce.

Now the telephone rings
I pray it's you so I can
Make you laugh.Come back!
 

It needs to be re-
titled "Series of Haikus
Friday" Brevity.
 

You couldn't possibly be referring to me,could you my dear?! For me brevity has never been "the soul of wit." "More is more." Sorry! And now I shall further madden you with yet another haiku.

Jacqueline K. clone
In aqua sheath and French twist
You dazzled the stars.
 

Marie Anne had Anne.
Three years of pure mother's love.
Then Cancer stole her.

Where is she? I asked.
"In heaven," said Anna Rose.
I looked in saint's book.

Not there. In darkness
I traveled, looking. And then
In a dream -- I knew.

She lives within me.
A gift bestowed forever.
Now shared with my three.
 

Ars longa, vita brevis.
Long live Renee!
 

My mom wouldn't let
Do little-girl pageants
Thank you, mom, SO much!
 

Tupac song, "Dear Mama."
Nothing to do with my Mom.
I just like that song.
 

She goes by Karebear
She thinks it's a compliment
If only she knew
 

I don't know, Mark. You introductory haiku is going to be hard to beat. Now I'm REALLY going to have to ponder this one for a while.
Bob
 

My mom made a cake
shaped like an easter bonnet-
We made fun of it.

But no one makes fun
of the great meatballs she makes.
(They're better than mine.)
 

Christmas trains made of
Tootsie rolls and starlight mints.
I remember well.

She sang alto while
I sang melody at church.
Pew's sweet harmony.
 

Mom died on Mother's
Day. Her mom died on Mother's
Day 20 years previous.

That's why I hate Mother's Day.
 

Daughter sits at your
vanity dressing table.
Looks just like you, Mom.
 

Hands full with three sons,
35 years at Ma Bell.
Nurse to my father.

-Robert Johnson
 

Anon 10:04

tears.....
 

She lives down the road
In a secluded manor
Watching her TV

We prepare her meals
She eats anything we make
Never complaining

She wants for nothing,
Still drives to the beauty shop
Tuesday's we worry

A nearby siren
Our ears listen carefully
It passes our drive

Quietly, relieved
say nothing to each other
The thought always lurks

The power went out
Darkness, only the moonlight
stars, after the storm

We fail our lone task
Please get the TV working
Call electrician

Someday, our own lives
will be quiet, extra time
until then, we help


ps. - this about my mom-in-law
 

In April, mom died.
Dad lost interest in life,
Passed in December.

That's not uncommon.
Women have other interests,
He had only her.

Bob
 

Sometimes I read something here that takes my breath away in ita power and perfection. I just did.
 

Bob, I understand that tendency you cited, but I thought this story was pretty special about one old guy who took that predicament and did something about it:

http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=7407522n
 

When my mother died
dozens told me, "She was
my best friend." Christian.