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- Setting Sun at allpoetry
how fast
the apple trees grow-- - Shadowed Bark at allpoetry
shadowed bark the feel of moss - How Mournful. at allpoetry
how mournful knowing I shall leave this world-- - I could cast a Rock. at allpoetry
I could cast a rock into the sea making ripples - Haiku #1 at allpoetry
on your quilt-- too soon - From Distant Trees. at allpoetry
Autumn leaves blown from distant trees - Duckprints at allpoetry
lop-sided boat duck-prints - Afternoon Nap. at allpoetry
afternoon nap under my pillow - Beneath Autumn Skies. at allpoetry
beneath Autumn skies I thought I was all alone - Sneezing Again. at allpoetry
sneezing again the smell of tissue - The way she Moves at allpoetry
I did not notice - Water Droplets at allpoetry
* * - Mixed with Stars at allpoetry
Autumn wind mixed with stars - Flies. at allpoetry
three house flies going this way and that way then this - Colourless at allpoetry
colourless I thought yet it stains every tree-top - Watching the Moon. at allpoetry
watching the moon climb over - Kiyomizu at allpoetry
half hidden behind cherry blossom - [ ] at allpoetry
the garden you kept so well - Into the Night. (pantoum) at sharepoetry
/ Cool winds pass through the dull street-light, / dancing with the debris of day, / and I'll dance with them through the night, / to find fit words that I should say. / / Dancng with the debris of day, / the hurting words we cried too lou - Into the Night. (pantoum) at allpoetry
Cool winds pass through the dull street-light, dancing with the debris of day, - an empty bowl at allpoetry
. - Red Again. (tanka) at allpoetry
your parting letter / faded with time / red again / the riverside / maple / - Hearing Poems (tanka) at allpoetry
hearing poems / by Ono no Komachi / lover's longings / as I walk on / autumn leaves / Andrew Hide / 24~5~2007 - Sunday Walk. at storywrite
"Do not be afraid. My name is Mary." Even though the voice was gentle. So unexpected was the intrusion, to my Sunday walk, I heard my breath rush out with an, "Ehh."
Being f - Urchin. at storywrite
Urchin.
Even before I had finished Lez's poem of inner city life, her image returned to my mind. She must be about thirty now. A sadness welled inside at the thought o - Revelation. at storywrite
Revelation.
The dirt track down the side of the field was hard baked, horse shoe prints the only discernible mark left from days when the soil was less firm, he had walked - Recycling. at storywrite
The wing mirrors of the 7.5 tonne Roadrunner lorry brushed the overgrown hedges on both sides of the narrow lane obscuring any view to the rear, this suited Alan as he skillful
