I write about my private and literary life. I compose haiku and this year have started writing tanka. My first love and joy is still haiku. I never leave the house without my pencil in my topnot. I am grateful to Serge Tome for being the first editor to publish me and for his encouragement since 2000, when i first started writing haiku. The wonderful island on which i live gives me daily inspiration. I am truly happy and blessed to be living here. " Wie Gott in Frankreich."
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
NEW MAN IN MY LIFE
He has black hair and large emerald eyes. He is taking up all my free time. He will not leave my pc alone. He sleeps on my pillow, not his own. He sleep most of the day and eats for the rest. HIs hair is so very soft and long and i wonder if he will loose it like so many men. We do not speak the same language so it is a bit hard to communicate fully. He has very high cheak bones and his eyes have a Mongolian slant to the. Perhaps he is part Hungarian like me? The two males next door speak the same language, so he goes over to Raymond's house a few times a day.
Mischi hisses at him and swats him when he passes by her. He likes to share my coffee too much. He is already hyper, so i try and keep him from doing that. He is very noisy and has looked in all my closets. He has a fondness for shoes, especially designer ones. So, he is a bit vain or perhaps just has a taste for the finer things in life. To celebrate his moving into my house i served my usual celebration bottle or two of Veuve Clicquot and smoked salmon sandwiches, well he did not like the bubbly, but eat most of the salmon. He enjoys my many silk kimona very much, perhaps he is part oriental in orientation. He also has insommnia as i do, but he will not take any sleeping mediction. It is early days yet, i do hope he will fit in with the rest of my household soon. His name is Jet. I love him very much indeed!
HIs black hair shines
in the Autumn misty day
sounds of hissing
On my silk kimona
many long black hairs
rustle of old silk
We share a glass
of the old bubbly wine
in Irish glasses
Mischi, the old female
her blue-green eyes flash
at his large emerald ones
My blue silk pillow
a new shiny black head now
little room for mine
In the long dark night
a new heart beat next to mine
i go to sleep with a smile
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