The haibun be a (standard,where haiku etc follows the prose) or (afterword where prose follows the haiku) or prose envelope (prose para haliku,para) verse envelope(haiku prose haiku) or interlaced (chorus, verse, chorus) or verse sequence (haiku,prose,haiku,haiku etc)
,
Here are some examples of mine whichare my copyright but maybe used for educational purposes provided an acknowledgment is given and advice therof emailed to Strandbg@aol.com)
a haibun ABSTRACTION
The soft yellow streaked the
terra cotta,shadowing the speckled sallow saffron
a bluish buff upon the
cochineal;brilliant boneblack grizzled the engrain
citrine carnation as the fallow
flaxen,rustic rubrical rainbow-tinted
the magenta mandarine;unseen the
ultra-marine, tinged burnt sienna,
reflecting a golden flame of
raw umbery upon the earth green;bright mosaic gold
mottled the sallow sorrel
virent yellow,oak stained the pale apricot;while
blood red,reddish russetdotted
the olive lind;freckled crimson,a chestnut maroon,
on fuchsias faded apple green
as burnt rumber sank deep into its sanguine slumber.
I walk through the glade
abstractions enlighten me-
colour my rainbow
WINTER HAIBUN (Afterword )
shapes spread statuesque
foliage in Winter clothes-
melancholy me
BEAUTY a haibun verse envelope
togetherness lives
in the subtle scents of love-
as ego retreats
Beauty is something we see with individual eyes,only time can
reveal imperfections of conceit.Deep within our soul resides attraction
,waiting,asleep yet longing to be aroused.Our need to be recognised,reciprocate
and hold close.A certain something,intercourses between eyes,a novel read by a
glance ,might last a lifetime.
across a room, looks
can indelibly imprint-
with love at first sight
OF LIVES
PAST a haibun prose envelope
Perfection
is an illusive pastime ,an unending quest that hides delusion in uncharted
waters on life's path.Distractions,obstacles spring up unannouced, by
chance,opportunities deflate in despair.Again,again,the siren's call. beckons
innocent naivety,nothing is simple one is alive.
uniquely
ourselves
littered
by our obsessions-
loneliness
cries out
One is
alive ,each day, breathing,eating living, yet separate, alone but part of
another,blood smeared by genes linked ,chain by chain in generations pattern.We
wait and wait in line,repeating the same mistakes,treading the same
circle.Imaging progress is reality,pretending we are wise and certain.Never to
wonder why!
SEASONAL
haibun
When
Spring comes again not the warmth..nor the rain
not the
yellow ..nor the green not the grass or verdant scene;
not the
winds or blossom bright not the showers or more daylight;
but
hearing creation's new birth shouted aloud in sky and earth.
When
Summer her beauty displays not short nights nor lengthy days
not
vacations or tourist sights not the festivals nor village fetes
not the
wildlife nor abour foliates but the garden all nature in flower,eye-catchingly
dressed.When Autumn readies for harvest not her full silos nor baskets imprest
not mellow vistas seen nor dressed trees, yellow-red not Indian Summer's
embrace nor late coloured flower beds not Fall's living collage or wine newly
pressed not for walks in the woods or nature's largesse but in thanksgiving
,daily blessed for all the Lord's bountifulness.
creations
new birth
each
season to us reveals
God’s
love in action
