Thursday 31 January 2019

"Truro Train" a haiku chain





Penzance train station
Waiting for the Truro train
Grey clouds overhead


Steel wheels sing on rails
There’s no more clickety-clack
On the Truro train

The broad-leaves are bare
But not the Pines and Spruces
The fields are bright green

From the viaduct
The houses look like toy-town
The train rolls on by

On the embankments
Brown dead bracken cloaks the slopes
Bright sharp yellow gorse

The hues of winter
Streaming past the train window
Cornish countryside

Redruth Camborne Hayle
The slow evening way home
Saint Erth and Penzance

Then toiling uphill
The Hospital trip over
All is well…. Now rest


Copyright © Res Burman 25th January 2019

"Winter Rain" haiku



I hear the drip drip
Outside my foggy window
Cornish winter rain
Copyright © Res Burman 31st January 2019

Tuesday 1 January 2019

"Childhood Memories"



That lovely smell of dust and rust
As we swung our feet above the stream
On an old iron girder bridge
And let the water carry our dreams


Dust motes dancing in rays of light
Through knot holes in the wooden barn
Our old soft oft washed dungarees
With many a patch and darn

The smell of old tractors
When they’ve just been fired up
The smell of new turned soil
The softness of a new born pup

It was fun and games in the fields
With a boy’s best canine friend
A Best Dog is always true to you
And will love you until the end

The fragrant breath of milking cows
Just bought in from the grass
The taste of new cooled creamy milk
Drank from a frosty glass

The velvet nuzzle of a horses muzzle
As you breath in of it’s breath
And when you breath it out again
You’ve got a friend till death

That magic smell of summer rain
That falls on hard baked earth
That Mother Nature may drink her fill
And dormant seeds give birth

The whip-lash crack of gorse-pods popping
In the burning summer’s heat
Their blossom smells of marzipan
Cool grass beneath bare feet

The smell of grass that’s freshly cut
Or just trod Lemon Balm
The smell of Autumn fire smoke
That hangs on evening’s calm

The sound of kicked up Autumn leaves
The smell of leaf mould lingers
The smell of resin from pine tree’s bark
That stays sticky on one’s fingers

The sights and sounds of childhood
That I remember oh so well
But the strongest of all memories
Seem to be triggered by their smell


Copyright © Res Burman 1st January 2019