Hairpin And Hair-raising – haiku by Dennis Allen Lange

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The best thing
When back’s to beauty –
A switchback.

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photo by Kevin Tuck at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mZhGDLG/Winding+road

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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/
——————–

© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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Three Miscellaneous Haiku by Dennis Lange

Where Jack Climbed Up

It’s a door.
Or is it really
Giant keyhole?

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Trains And Roads, Or Here And There?

Cattlegrid.
At home, for a road –
Cattleguard.

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Necessity

The stuff of,
The river of, life –
Water flows.

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Jack – photo by Salva Barbera at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/2dCET59/Doors+Maroc+1

Trains – photo by Johnny Berg at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mjzW7gO/Cattlegrid+-+HDR

Necessity – photo by Patrycja Cieszkowska-Krystosik at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/monQKna/water

——————–

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

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Three Miscellaneous Haiku by Dennis Lange

A Flyer With Flair

A large moth
With very good tastes –
Colors match.

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Strings Attached

These who fly
Are not like birds, but
Like spiders.

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Winter’s Road

A cold road.
Huddle inside, it’s
A lone road.

——————–

Flyer – photo by paparabbit (Palmer) at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mwYvKd0/CECROPIA+MOTH+ON+BRICK

Strings – photo by Felipe Daniel Reis at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/miOPyEm/Park

Road – photo by Alfred Borchard at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mHs3RbY/winter+wood

——————–

* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/

——————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

 

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The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

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