Friday, September 06, 2013

 

Haiku Friday: The Best Gift

A few weeks ago, I wrote about a wonderful gift I was given by one of my mentors.  It has made me realize that the giving of gifts, and receiving them, is such a nuanced and important part of our culture.

Some people are good at giving gifts; others aren't.  Perhaps more intriguing is the was that people are so different in the manner in which they receive gifts.  It is very difficult for some people to do this, I have noticed.

So, how is that for a haiku topic?

You can write about a gift you have given or received, and it can be a physical object or something perhaps more inchoate-- a word of advice or support, or the gift of love.

I will go first:

We were out fishing;
Summer.  I was 17.
He gave me college.

Now it is your turn!  Pretty much stick to the 5/7/5 syllable pattern, as you are able...

Comments:
Caked with biscuit dough,
still - she never took it off:
A grandmother's ring.

Depression-era
sacrifice to cherish dear -
till death did they part.

Passed down to a bride
who wore it for fifteen years.
(Rings outlast marriage.)

And so, the band waits
for love to find it again -
bare hand to adorn.
 
His mother texted
Said, "Thank you for taking him"
Such amazing grace.
 
Very nice, Angela.
 

-Max-

He showed up in his
Khaki pressed slacks and fedora
From bandbox he stepped.

Eyebrows furry like
Caterpillars mating.Gentle
Bachelor farmer.

When I left for school
He was waiting. He went too.
Treasurelove in hand.

Pink gold roses green
Gold leaves,they made me feel like
Sophia Loren.

When he was dying
In an old motel in Tucson
I came to visit him.

I came,pregnant with
His namesake,Dallas Maxwell.
We talked.And touched.Gifts.

 

-Max-

He showed up in his
Khaki pressed slacks and fedora
From bandbox he stepped.

Eyebrows furry like
Caterpillars mating.Gentle
Bachelor farmer.

When I left for school
He was waiting. He went too.
Treasurelove in hand.

Pink gold roses green
Gold leaves,they made me feel like
Sophia Loren.

When he was dying
In an old motel in Tucson
I came to visit him.

I came,pregnant with
His namesake,Dallas Maxwell.
We talked.And touched.Gifts.

 
I speak Spanish now,
Unhappy seventh grader,
Didn't understand.
 
A leather briefcase
Dark, supple, sleek, stitched so strong
It could hold the world.
 
Crazy, happy love
A connection so damn strong
Smiles - morning to night.

Don't look a gift horse...
We all know the message there
Still, love overcomes.
MMM
 
Crazy, happy love
A connection so damn strong
Smiles - morning to night.

Don't look a gift horse...
We all know the message there
Still, love overcomes.
MMM
 
Stubborn Love

She was not easy
For a melty-hearted man
To keep as a wife.

She wore hard armor --
Build up over early years
Of deep scar sorrows.

Like the Christmas Day
Her brother’s new rifle’s first
Shot killed their father.

They all had nightmares
About the accident, but
Kept them deep inside.

Believed talk couldn't
Fix anything, only keep
The wounds wide open.

Eighty years later
Little girl’s A-L-Z brain
Is sad-mad screaming ...

At the man who hugs
Her each morning, rubs her back,
And says, “I love you.”

 

Time, alone, to breath
An hour at the spa, ah...
Life is so frenzied
 
Bequeathed to damsel--
Those miniscule crustaceans--
Love got scratchier.


 
Mom and dad both read.
And they read to me. A lot.
What a gift to give!

So I read to Van
And so now to my grandkids, too
And the give goes on.

Bob
 
Listen,Osler--Geoff sucks!


Parfum au Francaise
Diamonds that blaze,red roses
Chocolat fraises.

But nay!I do not
Receive by night or even
By days...I get les crabes!

Geoff--you feelthy beast!
 
Mom and dad both read.
And they read to me. A lot.
What a gift to give!

So I read to Van
And so now to my grandkids, too
And the gift goes on.

Bob

(Sorry for the typo!)
 
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