a different kind of therapist (haibun)

Waking earlier than usual, she shuffles eyes half closed, holding her forehead to the bathroom to run her bath.  Peeking through tired eyes at her reflection and after careful evaluation sighs with relief that Man-made masks exist in all forms.

ivory liquid
brushed smoothly
on ashen face
painting taupe shadows and liner
illusions of a happy face

Arriving at her appointment, she settles comfortably and opens up to a face of compassion. Tears running down her cheeks, her therapist listens with empathy and continues her task…

scraping and cutting
polishing for good measure
podiatrist soothes

Who knew her foot doctor could be the only one who seems to “get it”? Too bad the next appointment is only in two months.

 the perfectly shaped leaf


Daily Moments – November 22, 2017  a different kind of therapist (haibun – haiga) – MicroPoetry Month #22

life’s options (troiku – shadorma) Daily moments November 16th/17

Image may contain: table, plant and outdoor


autumn simmers
reassessing life’s options
season’s nesting spell

autumn simmers
rolling into sleepy times
winter’s slumber

reassessing life
sitting by a crackling fire
knitting my options

season’s nesting spell
searching under winter skies
making snow angels


thoughts echo
in my weary brain
telling me
to slow down
run through future options
life is too damn short


Daily moments – reassessing – November 16th, 2017

Writing for MicroPoetry Month #16

November 15th, 1976 (haibun) MicroPoetry Month – Daily moments

If you talk to a man in a language he understand, that goes to his head. If you talk to him in his language, that goes to his heart.  –Nelson Mandela


How can I not write something on this date November 15th.   Je m’en souviens all too well.  Sure I have mixed feelings being of two cultures and embracing both. My mother, being French Québecois has always said she was a bilingual Canadian. She has never shared the vengeance and yet she has surely experienced the unfairness and the disrespect  all too often.

My father,  being of Irish and Welsh background, his maternal grandfather settled here due to his Irish Catholic background but his father being of the mindset of English is best allowed me to feel the humiliation for my mother.

French speaking persons in the 50’s and 60’s could not get decent work if they did not speak fluent English and even then, it was difficult to rise in a company carrying a French name.  How this has changed dramatically today!

I understand the need for change. One must be mindful, when the pendulum swings too much and stays there, it turns justice into resentment and vengeance. And being of these two cultures, I have too often been on the fence carrying the sins of my ancestors.

in the making
November 15th

a new government is born

citizens hail
Vivre le Québec Libre
français shall rule

laws to preserve their language
change well past due

years of oppression
fuels their passion
the pendulum swings


Written for MicroPoetry Month November 15th 2017

Quebec 1976 Parti Québecois Victory

wistful moments (a cherita and solo renga -MicroPoetry Month #14)


the old man listens to the melodies

water running over timeless rocks
lyrics swimming in his head

an angel met him here long ago
even fish splashed in the creek
only her memory remains


breathing her name
with a long wistful sigh
a tear runs down his cheek

leaves rustle in the wind
a sparrow sings a love song

sitting on the log
the old man smiles
embracing the past


Daily Moments Nov.  14 – MicroPoetry Month #14 & Haiku Horizons: log

hasty dusk Troiku MicroPoetry Month November 13 th Daily Moments


five o’clock shadows
hasty dusk settles
all day long

five o’clock shadows
greyness fills the soul
sullen shroud

hasty dusk settles
hiding any hope
melancholy rains

all day long
life without promise
haunting season’s end


Written for MicroPoetry Month #13 – Daily Moments.  Looking outside all I saw was grey and took a photo…the photo does not seem as grey as the day actually.

Daily Moments November 13 – hasty dusk

Coco Chanel (MicroPoetry Month #12) Daily moments (Troibun)


The sun shines brightly in the cold pale skies and yet, her soul is filled with greyness? The day will move slowly as she shuffles through my clutter. That old overcoat that should have been thrown in the trash, swings gently from side to side. What is she doing still holding on to those tan boots that cramp her toes? They remind  her of better days and happy times, strutting with a sense of purpose. As she moves further into the greyness she finds  her mother’s old raincoat she has yet to wear. As slips it on,  she feels her presence…still.

soft scents
float around her

soft scents
rest in droplets
kissing her cheek

float around her
Sinatra and Doris Day

admiring CoCo
worshiping the sun


I love the haibun form and since I have also fallen in love with the Troiku (a haiku form created by Chevrefeuille at CarpeDiemHaikuKai) I have coined the haibun with a troiku, Troibun.

Written for MicroPoetry Month #12 where we are inspired to write a haibun.

The history of sun tanning and Coco Chanel.

slaves no more ( senryu) November 11/17

The shame oh the shame
seeping from the pores
of our pale pink skins

every man,
woman and child
suffering bound in chains
enough to make
any mind go wild

the shame oh the shame
seeping from the pores
of our pale pink skins

every man, woman and child have dreamed
of their forefathers
recalling tales of yesteryear
and such better days than here!

the shame oh the shame
seeping from the pores
of our pale pink skins
dear blessed Mother of God
pray for our mortal sins

of absolution
we are not worthy
tainted by our greed

we must make restitution
for sins that were commissioned

will there ever be resolve
in our own privileged life span
and centuries we have robbed them all
due respect and compassion?

the shame oh the shame
seeping from the pores
of our pale pink skins
blessed Divine Mother, please,
pray for our mortal sins

© Tournesol’17/11/11
Daily moments November 11/17 slaves no more

Written for Mocropoetry Month

I was trying to watch 12 Years a Slave and could not watch half, it was too difficult and so My muse took over…

This started free flow but noticed there were many senryu and tanka within. What was most important for me was to release these thoughts.

frigid day (daily moments Nov 10/17)


Sun pales the sky
as I breathe the cool brisk air
puffs of smoke

autumn winds
leaves blowing on the road
the old man’s hat

(c) Tournesol ‘17-11-10

Daily moments – frigid day nov 19 /17  MicroPoetry Month #10

This morning I could only reflect “freely” on this and so these haiku are my writing freely. It finally went minus 5 C and snow covered the lives on the side of the streets.  I had to take the plunge and wear my winter coat and warm scarf. brrrrrrrrr