__I wrote this when I was seventeen, October, 1960. I think now, we are all looking for the first two lines of the third stanza; the change cycles continue... unchanged. _m
*Rose Red Trees*
Rose red trees
Flecked with gold,
The colors of clans
From legends old.
Warmed by the sun
Through a bitter fall day,
Withered by cold
And wafted away.
Then green we see
In season's sun,
To rose red again
Life's cycle run.
- Magyar
- Cape Cod, United States
- __I see with young eyes, an old mirror. Here, I hope to offer... as I see.
14 comments:
Very nice haiku.
the sun
is a rose
is
(Nothing to do with, but "is" in Swedish = "ice", and "Ice" in Finnish = "jää" meaning also "staying" .-)
deep enough for a 17-y-o, and it still has merit :)
__Thanks Polona and Tikkis... I certainly appreciate your views.
__Bob, I know the haiku of which you speak... my comment at your bird photo blog. I'll leave it here too.
a swan poses
her profile to this lens
the shabow
Thanks again! _m
absolutely beautiful. loved every line...
You were born with a gift, Magyar. I love the marriage of life cycles with nature's cycles. Lovely!
the long ago poem
reflections of youthful days
swirling visions stir
***
remember the day
bitter cold colors of light
i almost forgot
Very nice, Magyar. It's good to revisit one's old work...
You would not want to see what I wrote at seventeen.
It is so nice that you can look back on your work.
Thanks friends!
and Tikkis, ;<)
is is is
is isn't was
was was is
*
Is, is is.
Is, isn't was.
Was, was is.
Absolutely beautiful. Thanks, Magyar.
K.
my years
another shade
of spring
Thanks Karol and Bill!
__As leaves, the years keep layering, each a different shade.
_m
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