Haiku Never Come Singly

When I put pen to paper to tell Blogland at large that I was playing Granny, not jinksy, for a couple of days, I doodled a few lines on the A4 pad in front of me and they very soon shaped themselves into a useable form. But I seem to have a switch in my head that always wants more of the satisfying, 17 syllable rythm, so here are a couple more haiku that were born at the same time.

Small Can Be Loud

Shy violet blooms,
shouting royal purple notes
as fanfare for Spring.

(I didn't realise how apt this description would soon be for youngest granddaughter, whose voice ricochets round as she plays her imaginary games upstairs in her bedroom, while her sister, wearing bright, purple jeans that could outshine any violet, is still down here being sociable!)

Then a passing April shower was enough to call this next offering into existance:-

Bird Bath

Silver rain falling;
shallow stone bowl over-brims,
crying slow tear drops.

I hope such tiny offerings are enough to make your visits worthwhile...