The Flame of Haiku
A Collection of Haiku Poems By
John { Jack] Byrne
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written permission of the copyright owners All rights reserved Š John{ Jack} Byrne 2015
beach stroll__ a swimmer dives into the sun
favourite chair__ filling my indent the old cat
bus-ride__ same seat different bald patch
spring morning__ a river swim I float through clouds
spring shower__ his grave soil renewed
dog barking__ my neighbour’s dog barks his neighbour’s dog barks
garden shed__ on the shelves jars of sunshine
night thunder__ my indecisive security light
late spring__ lodgers in my eves feed their young
beach walk__ ebb tide steals each footprint
moonless night__ only the owl gives a hoot
dawn fog__ the mountain peeps at the sun
Connemara sunset__ my lovers red hair
Spring moon__ the warmth of her lips
dense fog_ alzheimer’s ward carrying forget me nots
grey skies__ bewitched by her blue eyes
our passion spent the smell of sulphur night thunder__
meadow breeze__ high above a lark’s warning
dead calm__ little tern dives into himself
old photo__ grandfather with my nose
dawn thunder__ even the birds are silent
mime artiste__ frozen this little egret
dawn chorus__ a woodpigeon sings base
wind chimes__ all the right notes
Spring fishing__ in the angler’s net the water he caught
bitter night__ the cat and I staring at the flames
starless night__ in the blackness the cat disappears
distant horizon__ snow clouds gather in silence
night stars__ my chimney holds the big dipper
dawn fog__ the mountain’s white beard
village cafĂŠ__ sharing my lunch this mallard
train journey____ also going to London this fly
ferry stern___ slowly disappearing Wales
star filled night___ I look up for someone looking
austerity__ losing our houses the swallows and me
a lawn of buttercups___ my signal to mow
stormy sea___ the same fury our last argument
Spring shower___ a fragmented sun flows under the bridge
shore fishing__ without remorse I bait the hook
harbour ___ a cormorant defies the wind
old ruin__ buddleia waves from the lounge
naptime__ the old cat a perfect circle
deep winter__ a vole and I share the wardrobe
haiku reading__ in the silence Grandfather’s tick-tock
autumn silence__ longing for a blackbird’s lament
mid spring night__ the same milky way
autumn wind__ exhausted trees shed their waste
fledging blackbird__ the magpie becomes the hunted
red tail kite__ his circling higher
house gable__ the snail almost at the summit
offshore__ no cupid’s arrow this gannet’s dive
Blaskets__ from the mist the cry of kittiwakes
Brandon mountain__ how they embellish her these sheep
Muckross house__ on every wall window’s to the past
forest stroll__ all this life yet so peaceful
late spring__ summer drops the odd hint
summer winds__ launching for renewal thistle seed
deck chair__ full with the colours of autumn
leafy lane__ I stroll through the death of summer
spring evening__ in the graveyard where all things end
John {Jack} Byrne is an new Irish writer of poetry and short stories with particular interest in the Japanese short form poetry, such as haiku/tanka haibun etc, and is a native of Wicklow Ireland.