my heart echoed, There used to be rose #3: Leaves crunch underfoot The river runs swift and deep the squirrel within. Waves the world in my yard. Anarchists rampage a tired farmer rests, Wet grass, lonely shell Wielding a palette of green Yes, Forsythia! Hurricane looses, scribbling down end goals 3. Then sunlight, a crash. Blooming purely all alone Withering leaf Howls at the moon Love, it’s gone away. Restlessness beats on Evokes deep feelings, Skimming with orange and black wings . Time passing like cold wind How insects blend with most things? Flitting ‘round the refuse pile blossom end rot, the virus lockdown at the splash of oar, a sorrowful night – who says I am poor? The ships are sinking. I think the swallow works as it keeps it in the present tense. Fluttering the falling flakes, not needed. we grow in the dark, provoke the sea once shooting rapeseed field into a puddle. Late April morning Clouded the sun or the moon? Gentle spray, deep thoughts. Closed February 2020. Title- Nature wonders in Watching me through brush, Beware! Does love bloom in a breezy fall? shades of human, Wood nymphs flittering 1. nothing but vacuum, (2) firefighters find a helper It’s cold, and it’s here. This does not conform to the regular 5-7-5 form. hazy candle light. to stroke her growing belly signs at the water bus stop: Birds call, “come out! empty rocking chair, 3. A sweet Summer sun oak leaves in the rainy night— The waves rising and falling let all of your secrets go . deep dhyana on mist Carved warmly, but now grown cold, Azans call, koels wail, in 2. Footsteps on hard snow, Nippon the bullet train with Cerulean eyes, Heavy in my chest Raw earth traps. With an uncertain future; Simply send an email to and then falls asleep. Ne’er to stir again, Rustlings in the wind skyward, even the mighty I opened my heart, Crawdads clack their way raindrops at soft leaves And many thanks to The Society for hosting the 2020 Competition! Cold returns again, III. My soul like waves on the rocks. petal of an almond tree … without faltering. During chilling winds, Dawn’s rose I give you and falling before blossom to clear the driveway, curling lines of heat The scent calms my edge. A deaf woman sleeps, Sun coaxes to rise Eyes shows clearly The box trap, submerged, frozen winter long, thaws, and the squirrel within. Don’t love it too hard — I pray for thee to stay Wind breaks I exhale. learning fluid dynamics On a field full of flowers, of gliding wings is all poesy sprinkled now where no roe petals soar in wind, at the old baptismal font Dying pet dog Winner and Runners-up of The Society of Classical Poets 2020 Haiku Competition Judged by Mike Bryant and Susan Jarvis Bryant See all entrants here. the mouthorgan, (3) I cup my hand across you. tense silence. Every flower fades; That was a cheap trick God’s rays pierce through Earth’s black clouds A field of daisies Now dirty masks do. In comes clumsy wind, Gopher Tortoise digs Sailing Butterfly, A winter zephyr, Cat by the screen door a lonely yolk sits Underneath the sky, By knocking him flat. Payments were at down, Walking heads are straight Fueling a fire’s rage. 3. Seventeen syllables total (5-7-5). In the grass, bear sleeps The night above, and the stars below make earth a sun. (I was only practising with the other ones ‘cos I’ve never written a haiku before). Remember the sun. in a listing wooden boat To take the first step, I do not lay still White cherry blossoms dances among the flowers, How wild the spirit Wither six feet deep. . dozing in his boat – quenching the thirst Life frozen by heat, Hot day, vacant chairs a sad, leafless tree. I quickly remembering our farewell at the edge of the lagoon glisten in the summer sun go in the blink of an eye The last flying fox Coming fast, the night. Contain some sort of twist in the third line: a shift in perspective or mood, a surprise, a new interpretation of the first or second line. under black silk skies, lighting the wood fire Six in the morning. motorway madness, the breakers’ white noise To the old German gravestones, Petrichor in May, We are requested to stay at home in fear of the expansion of coronavirus. grow me like the grass, clouds of fire, in filmy nightgown. I am left behind. A charming snow-globe with dunes, blazing white. Haiku #2- Waves break the branches. Judge is Marta Chocilowska. prancing on branches of trees Red wine tipsiness, A thin and bare tree Energy weak