Haiku Dreams

Problems of the day

transform into wisps of light

dreams dissolve in the night

Logic is lost, in the swirl of night dreams.  Silent moments when the brain heals, dancing carelessly in gray shadows.  Hours pass.  Warm yellow sunlight spills through the frosty cold glass of a bedroom window.  Exceptional tales of the night are lost in waking moments.

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W. Gilbert


Warm Tea In Mountain Rain

Fall wrapped itself around the mountains in a cold misty blanket.  Rain wept for the lost summer season.  Emily wore her oldest and most comfortable pajamas.  The kids had already gone into school with their rain jackets and rubber boots.  Her husband carried the soft memory of her farewell kiss to start his day.  She was finally alone.   Her eyes now caressed the items carefully placed in the home office.  A small red ball played music on the shelf.  Its black wire finding her ipod.  Norah Jones and Keb Mo warmed the air in the room against the clear cold rain tickling the window.  She took another sip of warm peppermint tea.  The sharp flavor danced with her senses.  The keyboard, and laptop conquered all of the available space on the wooden desk.  She sighed, breathing in the moment as she pulled out her notebook.   A delightful moment of writing drank her up as smooth and focused as the storm outside.

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W. Gilbert


Blue Pen Haiku

A blue pen lays on my wooden desk.  Its soul is encased in transparent plastic shell.  The tube of thick blue ink is a pipeline for my creativity to flow onto the page.  Imprinting my words into immortal tales.  “What was it like to be human?”  Writing; a mighty force indeed.

Breath captured, by her.

Love rises in a white cloud.

My heart sings her name.

Fingers dance softly,

on lovers skin. Goosebumps.

Must I go to work?

Hot sweet  swirl.  Coffee.

Thick book. Crisp pages.  Author long gone.

As I read, he lives.

Dusty red stone path.

Blue sky.  Cold wind. Summer fades.

Mountain Man walking.

Rusty roof.  Dying old truck.

Young son.  Middle aged dad.

Memories are born.

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W. Gilbert


Morning Cup of Haiku

Gray clouds weep, rain falls.

Hot soups flavor, dancing taste soothes.

Glorious blanket.

Hot black coffee drink.

My face drinks the morning sun.

All downhill from here.

Snot streaks under his nose.

Toys thrown upon, everywhere.

2 year old finds joy.

Heart pumps wild red love.

My glorious inflated torture.

Pressure of a kiss.

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W. Gilbert