Blue Storm - a modest attempt at haiku

  

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

Dispatches for the Colonial Office

LogoSophia Magazine – A Pilgrim's Journal of Life, Literature and Love

Home - Hello Poetry

 

Blue Storm

 

Blue September storm

Blowing down from the northeast

Hastening summer’s end

These are not the Leaves of Autumn - poem in a summer of drought

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

These are not the Leaves of Autumn

 

These are not the leaves of autumn, these husks;

They died so young, fallen from the summer-burnt oaks

Leaving the lingering limbs barren of green

A struggle of woody cells against the drought

 

They wear no celebratory colors

Nothing of red or gold to catch the sun

For they died of thirst in their lost-green youth

Never reaching the October they had earned

 

These are not the leaves of autumn, oh, no

But only shells dry-rattling in the wind

The Retiring of Old Snow - poem

 

Lawrence Hall

Mhall46184@aol.com

https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/

poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

 

The Retiring of Old Snow

 

Clinging to blue shadows and shades and trees

Stained ice and sleet and snow from days ago

Silently steams away as vapour, as mist

Beneath today’s yellow and slanting sun

 

On Monday eve the skies were low and grey

And Tuesday morn soft flakes began to float

And then the rattle of indelicate sleet

Sent every creature to its appointed burrow

 

And now the little that’s left hides from the breeze

Clinging to blue shadows and shades and trees

Heat Advisory - But Whom Does the Heat Advise? - heat-stressed poem of no significance

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

Heat Advisory – But Whom Does the Heat Advise?

“Heat advisory issued as temps expected to reach triple digits”

-Houston Chronicle, 29 July 2017

Hey, temps, you’ve been reaching for those digits
For centuries. Always you reach, sometimes
you grasp, those urged indoor activities
while counting up to three in Fahrenheit

And not in that ungodly Celsius
Which is simply not our kind of measure
We need no Frenchified logic like that
For the Bible is free of decimals

Hey, temps, you’ve been reaching for those digits -
Now cuddle up with an air-conditioner


(This is drivel devoid of meaning; it's just too da(r)ned hot to think!)

Disaster Preparedness Checklist - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Disaster Preparedness Checklist

Double-A batteries, a map out of town
A tank full of gas, a mind full of plans
A flashlight, toilet paper, a radio
A can opener and cans to go, go, go

Leather gloves and duct tape, whistles
Waterproof matches, and match-proof water
Blankies and ponchos and a change of clothes
A medical kit and a pocket knife

But

No one ever lists a box of cigars,
And a Wodehouse for reading by lamplight

The Weather Channel - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

The Weather Channel

Turn around don’t drown we’re not out of the
woods yet don’t let your guard down this isn’t
over yet actually historic in
credible absolutely turn around

don’t drown we’re not out of the woods yet don’t
let your guard down this isn’t over yet
actually historic incredible
absolutely turn around don’t drown we’re

not out of the woods yet don’t let your guard
down this isn’t over yet actually

80 by 8 and 90 by 9 - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com


80 by 8 and 90 by 9

Yeah, 80 by 8 and90 by 9
Humidity set to steam or stir-fry
Accompanied by the mosquitoes’ whine -
God preserve us from the month of July!

Spring Thunderstorm II - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Spring Thunderstorm II

“I am well rebuked.” – St. Thomas More in A Man for all Seasons

An underpass is no good in a storm
You cuddle up with a half-pint of plonk
Hiding it from those who are meaner than you
But they will probably find it anyway

The young have hopes that someday this will end
Humiliation, degradation, fear
The old have only memories of hope
And die in dreams of happiness long ago

Since if you wrap yourself in an underpass
You still have nothing but cold rain and death

Spring Thunderstorm I - poem

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com

Spring Thunderstorm I

A house is like a blanket; in a storm
You cuddle up with cozy walls, and pull
The roof over your head against the rain
As lightning flashes through the window pane

And thunder is a bully, all full of himself
He tries to interrupt you as you read
Or sew or listen to the radio -
How tiresome the rain, lightning, thunder, and wind!

But if you wrap the house around yourself
It’s like your favorite blanket, safe and warm