The exercise:
Two haiku about: the witch.
I don't know why. Thankfully, I don't need to.
The sun was out this morning so I spent part of it pruning plum trees. It showed its face less often in the afternoon, but we still got some yard work done.
Now my muscles are sore and tired. Perhaps I'll call it an early night.
Mine:
Her cackle is fine,
but she's not much of a witch -
her broom's in the shop.
* * *
Green skin, foul cooking,
but he just thinks she's a witch.
His poor stepmother!
Sore muscles are a good thing, they let you know you've been doing an honest day's work. (Or even a dishonest day's work, I suppose.)
ReplyDeleteSounds like everything's growing along well, you'll have to let us see a picture of it soon!
I like your first haiku best, but the second one made me smile more.
The Witch
Glinda the good witch,
Is just good three weeks in four
PMT's a bitch.
------
The witches gather
For Walpurgisnacht tonight
They're two months early!
P.S. New chapter for How the West was Won. It'll soon be your turn again ;-)
Tattoos, candles, black
ReplyDeleteHair and pentagrams -- no broom --
Not your old-style witch.
Greg - well, a day's work, either way :)
ReplyDeleteYour first haiku made me smile.
And I've left you a couple questions on your chapter, hoping to get some things straight in my head.
Morganna - nicely done. I felt like I got a good picture of her from that brief description.