Irish Haiku Society

grey day again

blue grape hyacinth

grows grey too

dust on dust

where trees will later grow

Ash Wednesday

fog in the city

now I cannot see

those I do not know

Cemetery Sunday –

families reunite

around their graves

cloud passes –

sunshine advances

along the path

summer evening balm,

sleeping through rain in the night –

first chestnuts falling

family grave –

since this Sunday last year

Dad has joined Mum

howling gales –

the kitchen door opened

invisibly

Christmas tree

among sweets and tinsel

a spider's web

sunday –

tea and a read

in silence

One of the winning haiku in the "Tea and Haiku" Competition, France, 2007

© Isabelle Prondzynski, 2006, 2007

cicadas

singing for a mate

soon to die

(First published in Shamrock Haiku Journal No 7, 2008)

sitting by the fire

light reflecting

wisened hands

(First published in The Quilt, an anthology of writing in Louth)

©  Maureen Purcell, 2006, 2008

calm evening

the midsummer's lake

watched by a heron

© Alan Reid, 2007

at my front door

nothing between me

and the full moon

(First published in Shamrock Haiku Journal No 7, 2008)

Miraculous wound,

the roses that still flower

where a house once was

The beat of my heart

going, in the silence,

its own way

A squashed crow’s wing

lifts and waves

in the wake of a passing car

(First published in Whereabouts, Abbey Press/Peterloo, 2005)

©  Mark Roper, 2005

red umbrellas

inside out in the wind

poppies gathering rain

First published in The Quilt, an anthology of writing in Louth

© Gráinne Roche, 2006

weaving through branches

to the ground,

rain

© Suzanne Ryan, 2007