III-VI

III.

Some colleagues of mine publish their haiku
but I confess I never got the knack
while others turn to free verse and eschew
a rhyme scheme which would fetter them to flak.

If I would to my own self here be true,
I must embrace a rhythm to my rhyme
and so an old relationship renew
to formats which have stood the test of time.

My parents gave me life and faith; what’s more
a life-long love of books and of the Bard.
The work of Shakespeare I grew to adore
(which made our highschool English class less hard).

From Norman Sicily the sonnet came
by which the Bard would put the rest to shame.


IV.

The scent of woodsmoke wafting on the breeze
suffices to elicit in me joy
and open up my memory to trees
I slept beneath while camping as a boy.

Not many things I did before eighteen
were of the sort I’d hasten to recall.
But, oh, those adolescent days serene
of camaraderie at evenfall!

The Eagle Scouts of our old lovely Troop
all reeked of pinewood smoke and Zippo fuel
and loping through the forest we’d recoup
the youthful zest expended in our school.

Those sylvan weekends seemed a life apart
and rooted deep the wild in my heart.


V.

The demons from Lord Shiva drew a vow
by sacrifice extreme to grant them leave
and so unto His wife He must endow
the power of destruction’s great reprieve.

To stop their reign of terror on the earth
Parvati merged unto Her husband’s form
to rise again with savage, hungry mirth
and so the vengeful Kali Ma was born.

As time destroys all that which is not God
our Mother tore the demons limb-from-limb.
She only ceased Her heavenly maraud
when Shiva bowed and She had trampled Him.

So godly blood did temper wrath divine,
a parable to which we all align.


VI.

I’ve read some haiku
but most seem like random stuff
meant to sound profound.