R is for Ruins

On my way to my grandma's house I have to pass by the ruins of "St. Haralambie" church (yes, near a forest, too) which had been built in 1818 and whose mysteries are yet to be revealed. This is one of the things tourmenting my curiousity as a child and was a central place to many stories I was creating in my childhood and teens.

dandelion fields

stirring imagination -

dubious riuns

mysteries hidden -

the pass of time will deepen

curiousity

stories writing place -

playing with ghosts from the past,

rewriting the truth

After more than 2 decades fantasizing about the ruins and inventing stories, about 2 years ago I've researched it and I haven't found more than the name of the church and the year of the construction. So, my mind still creates scenaries and scenarios around it. I could imagine a ghotic novel around this mystery (1st draft almost ready - boxed in autumn - why haven't God offered me the gift of finishing up everything?)
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NaHaiWriMo

April 20th - music/musical instrument

late-April evening -

cicada's sad violin

telling his story

Carpe Diem

April 20th - Abraham (wisdom)

halfway through his life,

contemplating what has been -

ready for future

his speech,

like never before -

a lesson

Q is for Questions

When I was little I had a lot of questions about everything and everyone - I was a curious child. I used to walk a lot and imagine the places surrounding me the way my parents have told me they used to look like before I was born.

questioning my past -

flooded by dazzling sunlight,

running the wild fields

The hometown of my memories was quite unchanged during my growing up. Only since five years ago the aspect of Scornicesti started to change, getting more modern, more like this century.

tell me willow tree,

which are the secrets you keep

about what has been

Now, when I take a walk around the town I remember the town of my childhood: gloomier than today, but the house of most of my memories.

the same old pine tree

I was using as shelter

during Hide and Seek

It's difficult not to smile at those memories.

Whispers in the Dark?

NaHaiWriMo

April 19th - darkness

alluring sunset,

sweet scent of blooming cherries -

darkness descending

Carpe Diem

April 19th - whisper

whispers in the wind -

just the locusts in this field

hear my fervent cry

The combination of these two prompts brought back to memory a song from a few years ago. Before hitting "play" turn the volume down, please. ;)

Carpe Diem Treasure

Kristjaan came up with a new episode for his already beautiful and alluring challenge. This is called "treasure" and it requires to use someone else's haiku, a haiku that brought back to you some memories.

So, for today's Carpe Diem Treasure I've stopped at one of Basho's haiku:

where’s the moon? 

the temple bell sunk 

to the bottom of the sea

 

tsuki izuku / kane wa shizumeru / umi no soko

 

These beautiful lines brought back to my memory the visit to a salina from a few months ago. I've been fascinated by that beautiful dark place and by the salt lake equipped with boats in order to make the time there more enjoyable. Inspired by Basho (I just love his writing), remembering my trip to that salina, here's my haiku and a memory of that place:

 

 

I hope you'll enjoy this haiku, because I really enjoyed that short but beautiful trip.

I'm also adding two links to my recently published poems: 4and20poetry where my poems opens this month's edition (happy!) and to my "Sharpening the green pencil" entry. I'll render the ones from Sharpening the green pencil, since these are harder to find:

 

streight road to nadir -

the anchor of the past

is lost on the sky

 

(drum drept spre nadir -

ancora trecutului

pierduta pe cer)

 

 

 

day in and day out

nature watching from the window -

apart from the world

 

(zi dupa zi

privind natura de la geam -

distant de lume)

P is for Paradise

I love parks. Unfortunately, Scornicesti has only a park and that's very small. When I was younger, I used to go visit Rusciori, a touristic complex anexed to a beatiful lake. I used to loose track of time, wondering enjoying the view, dreaming and imagining stories, writing poems in that fabulous decor.

Enjoy the pics, they speak for themselves:

O is for Old

Scornicesti isn't a modern town. Most of its buildings have witnessed the change . The apartment buildings are relatively new, but the houses , the villas and mansions - they know the rhythm and the pulse of the town.

slowly aging town -

old houses and roads and men

guarding their secrets

under low rooftops

April sun burning old walls -

some swallows nesting

rain clouds on spring sky

darkening my surroundings -

town's greying buildings

no statues, no art -

old people on old benches

in the morning sun

April Blend

Back on the net from my aunty duties. Happy to have one more poem published. Catching up. Again.

NaHaiWriMo

April 9th - sound

music for her ears,

better than all symphony -

her baby laughing

April 10th - zoo

house full of children,

now singing "happy Birthday!" -

my domestic zoo

April 11th - underwater

underwater stones -

travelers watching the lake,

their image transformed

April 12th - clown

crying 

tears of happiness -

a clown

April 13th - miss/missing

admiring tulips

from near the garden's white fence -

missing hyacinth

April 14th - pond

swung by April wind 

cherry tree blossoms petals -

the pond in pink coat

April 15th - alley 

watching the alley,

since two centuries ago

silent gargoyle eyes

April 16th - wildflower/weed

her smile, sun colored -

snatching weeds from her garden

April morning task

April 17th - mushrooms

after short spring rain,

a blue butterfly resting 

on a small mushroom

April 18th - antique

family heirlooms,

her silver filigree rings -

her girl's antique toy

Carpe Diem

April 16th - finally spring

from the angry clouds

after a short April rain,

finally spring sun

 

April 17th special - lonely flower

messanger of spring

among the budding branches

a cherry blossom

wild field inscence 

scattered in the April wind -

lonely violet

this April evening

first magnolia blossom,

my sole companion

April 17th - small mountain

to dodge the spring rain

after dragging a bread crumb -

inside the anthill

April 18th - threnody

funerary song

honoring the memory

of long lasting love

under April clouds

in a cherry blossom rain

sad sky threnody

thunders and lightings -

angels' laments for their lives,

a last song for them

L is for Lake

Happy!

So... in 8 days time I am an aunt twice! So, I'll be missing from the net and all the challenges till Sunday, visiting my sisters, gazing with adoration at my two nieces.

Have a wonderful week everybody!

(having a glass of wine, celebrating; smiling happily)

H is for Hydro

The creek that crosses the town is called Plapcea. It's just a feeble water thread on the surface and sometimes, in torrid summers it dries out completely. But in the spring months it's nice to watch the idle water finding its way through herbs and stones, nourishing the land and keeping it green.

I find it moderately active in spring, very inspiring in summer, very dull in autumn. That makes me wonder how can a single thing inspire different states at different times.

by the water stream

watching the white sand and herbs -

my dreams of summer

slowly running in,

my thoughts and the idle stream -

soft breeze wrapping me

G is for Green

I love spring, I love sunlight and light breeze! And I love that in April and May I can really enjoy those in Scornicesti, because it's packed with green herbs, grass tress and flower, especially wild flowers.

In spring and summer the green and the wild flora tame the grey resting in the town's old buildings. 

through small gray buildings

in the April light I smell

stains of green, of spring

I enjoy walking around the town, strolling around the hills surrounding Scornicesti. I enjoy their serenity, their silence and peacefullness.

spring oasis,

the wild fields in April night

calling my echo