Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Happy Imbolc! More Farmyard Haiku!

Imbolc is here again: the old Celtic celebration of women, poetry, milk, and fire. I've tossed back a celebratory mug of hot chocolate, sent off a few letters to women I admire, and stoked the wood stove... so now it's time for poetry!

Here's a haiku almanac of the last few months on the farm:

Our thirteen guineas
fed dogs, hawks, and foxes too.
"Free-range" comes with risks.

Chanterelle shining
Amidst shadows in deep woods:
Gold in them there hills!

Celtic year's turning
small lights guide along dark paths
Tonight, we shall sing!

Old Celts used turnips
To light the dead home. Pumpkin's
A New World trade-up!

Into year's dark half
We delve. Opposite of Spring
Isn't Fall, but Root

Brought home hay today
So pigs can burrow and build
a grand storm-proof nest

Come, sweet autumn rain:
All the tools are put away
And pig's got a roof!

O, well-carved pumpkin
Weep not. Full of light you go,
Now to join the saints.

Rural peace of mind:
high woodstacks, jam-full pantry,
Pig's jolt-squeak (fence works).

Bare witness of trees
documents the naked truth
at the branch office.

November closes
Wet snow swells the woodland streams
in shade, mushrooms bloom

Little Shiitake,
such goodness in such small space:
Edible haiku!


Ice-rime all around.
Farmstead feathers stir, birds cluck:
Tea-time for chickens!

(Holiday Dollmaker's Lament:)
Artisan's eyestrain
overtakes. Help! Need some elves
to finish more elves!

Ah, Christmas! Warm fire,
Frozen fields, frozen streams, and...
Frozen shower drain.

Oh, pipes, won't you sing?
Warm, uncrystalize and flow.
I need a shower!

Drink deep, my cattle.
Hose uncoils, fills trough to brim
Before ice returns.

Subzero at dawn
hens huddle in nestboxes
laying eggsicles.

Ah dinnae ken gin
Ye can screeve haiku in Scots;
Thocht I'd hae a gae!
(I don't know if / you can write haiku in Scots / Thought I'd give it a try!)

Dawn o Rab Burns Nicht
Craitures blether poetry
tae toast Scotia's bard.

(Thoughts on retrieving wayward livestock after nightfall:)
We heed neighbor's call,
with rope and boots in snowstorm.
Wanna buy a bull?

Alright, folks: your turn! 'Tis the season for poetic inspiration and creative merry-making. Leave a comment with a haiku or two!