Category Archives: Bronte Brown Blog Post

FmF February and March

I’m behind in writing again, but I hope to catch up today. Benediction, a word of layered meaning with the story of Peter and becoming fishers of men, and this week cold, in the midst of changing seasons and the dynamic interplay occurring in our cosmos.

Benediction and Fishers of Men

Simon Peter returned from an unsuccessful night of fishing. When a crowd gathered to hear Jesus, He got onto Peter's boat to teach while Peter and his companions cleaned their nets. Peter listened.

After the fruitless night, Jesus told Simon, "Put out into deep water and let down your nets for a catch." It was midday, the nets were already cleaned, and fishing was not typical at this hour. Still, despite skepticism, Peter replied, "I will do as You say."


They caught so many fish that two boats began to sink. This miracle prompted Peter to recognize Jesus, marking his salvation, and from then on, Peter was called to be a fisher of men. This moment transitions us from witnessing Peter's transformation to reflecting on its broader significance. 

Reflecting on these events, we must ask: Do we fully grasp the meaning and importance of this miracle as the beginning of the church age? 
These questions lead us to examine our own responses.
Building upon this reflection, consider how Jesus stood on Peter's platform as a foundation. Can He also work through your life? Yes, He can. 

Given this foundation, how many people have come to faith across the church age because Peter said yes to Jesus?

With these thoughts, can we fully appreciate the magnitude and layered meaning of this miracle for the future?

What other mysteries can we uncover or see, if we only have eyes to see? 
Buried Deep: Facing Depression after a magnificent victory/ Elijah

Elijah defeated the prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel. When Jezebel threatened his life, Elijah fled. 1 Kings 19 details his journey from depression to restoration. Verse 4 chronicles his desperation: "It is enough; now, O Lord, take my life, for I am not better than my fathers."

Rest, Eat, Pray= Healing and the Restoration of Peace

1. Elijah rested, then rose to eat (Jesus is the Bread of Life), repeating this until he was strong enough for God's next journey for him.

2. Elijah prayed three times, seeking God's help. Though angry and pitiful, he told God how he felt. God's voice was not in the strong wind, earthquake, or fire, but came as a whisper. 

3. After the drama on Mount Carmel, God wanted Elijah to hear His whisper.

4. God told Elijah to anoint Hazael king over Aram, Jehu king over Israel, and Elisha as prophet—replacing Ahab and Jezebel.

5. God reminded Elijah of the 7,000 in Israel who had not bowed to Baal. Elijah was not alone. 

Share your burdens with God and listen for His whisper.
Bury Deep in the Cold- Beauty Rises
Scampering about
it's own bucolic beauty,
idyllic daffodils 

prelude to butterflies,
dancing with the wind
Narcissus Poeticus

next to its cousin
Gravetye or snowflake daffodils
welcoming spring
#HaikuSaturday #poetry 

backyard beauty,
early spring arrival
Spring's statement
My daffodils are in full bloom, 

loving the weather, surviving, 

soaking up the sunshine. 

God's Word is our sunshine.

Leave a comment

Poems and more Feb 2026

spark of femininity
sweetness and allure
natural pairing, balance,

femininity's allure
virility's match
harmonious balance
scampering about
its own bucolic beauty, 
idyllic daffodils

prelude to butterflies
dancing with the wind
Narcissus Poeticus

next to its cousin
Gravetye or snowflake daffodils,
welcoming spring


muliebrity spark
her honey-like fragrance,
virility's complement 

short form
femininity's allure
virility's match

#HaikuSaturday #poetry 
vibrant hearts
venerated love,
vow to be yours....
spring flowers
cradling life in
delicate folds 

simplistic purpose, spring arrives

My Gran is the Grandest in the Universe

A Picture Book About Time, Love, and Being Grand
By R. Bronte Brown
FMF: Longing
My Gran: The Grandest in the Universe grew out of a longing I’ve felt at every stage of family life. As a child, I knew the freedom of being fully present. As a parent, I experienced the intensity and exhaustion of raising children. As a grandparent, I discovered a gentler joy, one rooted in time, patience, and deep love.

This story reflects my memories of childhood, raising my own children, and now watching my grandchildren grow. Each stage carries its own kind of joy and its own kind of loss. Childhood passes. Children grow. Grandchildren leave, and the house grows quiet again.

In today’s fast-paced world, time with family often feels rushed and fragmented. This book imagines a space where time slows down, where generations overlap, and where love is not measured by clocks or schedules.

At its heart, this story explores how families both fulfill us and awaken longing, a longing for what has been, what is fleeting, and what endures beyond time. For me, that longing ultimately points heavenward, toward a love that is complete, unhurried, and eternal.
This story is on submission and may not be reproduce, sold or used in any commercial avenue. 
Page 4: Dedication

Grandbabies create—
a rite of passage
where parents become
Grand.

Title Page 5
My Gran: The Grandest in the Universe
A Picture Book About Time, Love, and Being Grand
By: Rhonda Brown


Spread 1: Page 6-7 (Hook)

My Gran is the grandest.
She's my shining star.
Hi, I’m Annaleigh

Page 7 (Surprise)

My Gran is an alien.
Oh, not the kind from outer space.
She’s from another time and place.
Mom calls it yesteryears.
Tick-Tock / Tock-Tick

Spread 2: Page 8-9 (Time Shift)

At Gran’s house, time slows down
and busyness disappears.

The old and the new blend 
in a cosmic way. 
Tock-Tock-Tock

Both the past and present are a part of who I am, 
and that makes me special.
Gran's phone sits holstered. 

But I'm never bored.
I made the mistake of saying so once.
 (Illustration: Annaleigh whispering to the reader)

Spread 3 Pages 10-11 (Action +Play)

Gran swished me off to hunt for hidden treasures 
with only one clue. 
Gran calls it The Boardroom Challenge.
I call it serious business.

Spread 4: Pages 12-13 (Imagination + Games)

The Boardroom Challenge:
What lies beyond its borders takes wit and cunning to master.
Yet, the cleverest of braves find a way to contend 
with the game-meister.
Enter here.

Gran is the game wizard, 
and I'm the assigned scorekeeper. 

We battle with carriers, crazy eights, and checkers. 
With a bit of strategy and luck, I win. 

I am a whiz-kid at checkers. "Crown me!" 

Spread 5: Pages 14-15 (Signature Moment)

But when it comes to marbles,
Gran exists in a world all her own.
Her marbles have names:
Galaxy. Stardust. Blue Ice. Jupiter. Pearl!

We set the playing field—
then disrupt the universe.
She is the brightest star in the universe.

Spread 6: Pages 16-17 (Time Rules)

At Gran's house, 
we follow rules for time and space, 
but not in any particular order. 
We buckle up, watch the moon rise, 
ride through meteor showers, 
and watch the sun peek over the horizon. 

We sleep till noon. 

Spread 7: Page 18-19 (Food = Joy + Control)

Breakfast may come for dinner,
dinner for lunch,
and a snack for supper.
The best thing?

I choose my veggies—
cooked or raw,
with my favorite dipping sauce
and sweet corn on the cob.

I flatten my pizza dough into a moon-shaped disc.
Then add my favorite toppings:
pizza sauce, cheesy cheese,
and a pepperoni moon face.

No onions, please.
How cool is that!

Spread 8: Pages 20-21 (Ritual + Sound)

Peel, double whop- POP! 

My job is to open the biscuit can,
lay each biscuit on the cutting board,
and slice it in half with a butter knife.
Gran fries them up, light and golden.

I sprinkle stardust—
crispy and warm.
Yum!

Spread 9: Pages 22-23

Other rules are hard to remember:
I forget to brush my teeth 
or hang the towel after a shower, 
or wash my hands with soap.

Growing up means learning something new every day.
I mess up. I'm sad when I do. 
Yet- 

Spread 10: Pages 24-25 (Reassurance)

Gran's shoulder is there 
to remind me that growing up takes time. 
I can't do it all at once. 

Sweetest Gran in the universe. 

Spread 11: Pages 26-27 

Gran says quirky things like, 
"Spots on leopards don't change." 
“Good manners are free."
Never leave the house without putting on your face. 
I don’t always get it. 

Gran says my face is perfect. 
I'm always good to go. 

I'm cool with that.

Spread 12: Pages 28-29 (Love Made Visible)

"Yeah, Mom's here." 
Mom sees smudges shining on the glass door. 
"Uh-oh!"  
Gran and I made those flowers
with hot-air breaths and glittered fingertips.
They sparkle like a prism bouquet in the sunlight.
Mom grabs the window cleaner.

“Leave them there,” Gran says.
“Annaleigh made those for me.”

I am loved.

Spread 13: Pages 30-31 (Generational Time)

We sit and watch old movies together.

 Is that me? 
No!

It's Mamma giggling 
with Granny Sue 
swinging from my tree.
Tock-Tock-Tick

Spread 14: Pages 32-33 (Goodbye)
Time resets. 
The clock chimes.

Time to go. 

Hugs and kisses 
and sweet goodbyes. 
 "See you soon, Gran," 
I say with one last hug. 

Spread 15: Pages 34-35 (Understanding)

As we head back to my everyday world,
a question pops into my head.
“Mom, why do you say Gran is an alien?”
“That’s bits of silliness, dear.

Gran said the same thing about Granny Sue.
Granny Sue and I were best buddies—
like you and Gran.
Grandparents have a special love
for their grandchildren.”

Spread 16: Pages 36-37 (Resolution)

“Now I understand.
Parents are parents,” I say,
“and Gran is Grand.”

Both the past and present are part of who I am.
And that makes me special.

One day, I hope to be an alien
just like my Gran.

Final Spread: 38-39 (Echo Ending)

Grandbabies create—
a rite of passage
for parents to become
Grand.

An alien kind of love.

6 responses to “My Gran is the Grandest in the Universe”

  1. My Life in Our Father's World Avatar
    My Life in Our Father’s World

    I enjoyed your poem/story.

    I have noticed over the last couple of weeks that the link you add to FMF does not bring the reader directly to the post. It’s not a big deal to me but you may be losing readers who don’t want to spend the extra time searching for the connected post,

    FMF22

    Like

    Reply
  2. Sandra K Stein Avatar
    Sandra K Stein

    I’ve noticed the same thing. When I click on the link I get a message that the page did not exist. I had to actually go to your blog and do a search for the title and it took me here, which I’m not sure is actually what you intended to post. It looks like a draft to a children’s book you wrote. I did enjoy reading it though.

    Like

    Reply
    1. brontebrown2 Avatar
      brontebrown2

      That was my fault…It had an error in the title and would not let me correct it, so it is reloaded to the right of it. . I’m checking with WordPress because last week someone couldn’t access the upload. Please let me know if it happens again.

      The word for today was longing. Longing, time spent with family and how it is lost in today’s world. I wrote this story with memories of my childhood, my childrens and my grandchildren. I remember the fun I had as a child, raising my kids and the ease of having grandchildren. Families fulfill and create longing. I think it is representative of longing for heaven.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
      1. brontebrown2 Avatar
        brontebrown2

        My Gran: The Grandest in the Universe grew out of a longing I’ve felt at every stage of family life. As a child, I knew the freedom of being fully present. As a parent, I experienced the intensity and exhaustion of raising children. As a grandparent, I discovered a gentler joy—one rooted in time, patience, and deep love.

        This story reflects my memories of childhood, raising my own children, and now watching my grandchildren grow. Each stage carries its own kind of joy—and its own kind of loss. Childhood passes. Children grow. Grandchildren leave, and the house grows quiet again.

        In today’s fast-paced world, time with family often feels rushed and fragmented. This book imagines a space where time slows down, where generations overlap, and where love is not measured by clocks or schedules.

        At its heart, this story explores how families both fulfill us and awaken longing—longing for what has been, what is fleeting, and what endures beyond time. For me, that longing ultimately points heavenward, toward a love that is complete, unhurried, and eternal.

        Like

  3. Sandra K Stein Avatar
    Sandra K Stein

    Looks like you were able to fix the glitch.

    Like

    Reply
  4. FMF Jan 2026 – brontebrown2 Avatar
    FMF Jan 2026 – brontebrown2

    […] My Gran is the Grandest in the Universe […]

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FMF Jan 2026

A Picture Book About Time, Love, and Being Grand
By R. Bronte Brown

FMF: Longing 
My Gran: The Grandest in the Universe grew out of a longing I’ve felt at every stage of family life. As a child, I knew the freedom of being fully present. As a parent, I experienced the intensity and exhaustion of raising children. As a grandparent, I discovered a gentler joy, one rooted in time, patience, and deep love.

This story reflects my memories of childhood, raising my own children, and now watching my grandchildren grow. Each stage carries its own kind of joy and its own kind of loss. Childhood passes. Children grow. Grandchildren leave, and the house grows quiet again.

In today’s fast-paced world, time with family often feels rushed and fragmented. This book imagines a space where time slows down, where generations overlap, and where love is not measured by clocks or schedules.

At its heart, this story explores how families both fulfill us and awaken longing, a longing for what has been, what is fleeting, and what endures beyond time. For me, that longing ultimately points heavenward, toward a love that is complete, unhurried, and eternal.
Theme:
This story explores the classic omnipotence paradox through a child’s conversation with God, revealing God's nature in a clear, relational way.

Philosophical Question:
If all things are possible for God, then can God create a rock so big that it is impossible for Him to pick up?

Scripture Reference:
Hebrews 6:17-20 –
“…God, desiring even more to show to the heirs of promise, the unchangeableness of His purpose, interposed with an oath, in order that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we may have strong encouragement. This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast and one which enters within the veil, where Jesus entered as a forerunner for us…”

Reflection / Takeaway:
The two unchangeable things: His purpose rooted in truth, and that God cannot lie. He gave an oath to anchor our souls to hope, to Him.
My Gran is the Grandest in the Universe
This story is on submission and may not be reproduce, sold or used in any commercial avenue. 

Rhonda Brown						Faith-forward Picture Book Parable
1335 Montana Drive 						WC 450
Conway, AR 72034						On Submission
leighbrontebrown2@gmail.com
Word Press: https://brontebrown2.com/
https://x.com/RhondaLBrown2

Age Range: 5-8 years old
Faith-based/ Inspirational/ Read Aloud

A Riddle in a Paradox: A Conversation with the Father of Light
By Rhonda Bronte Brown

A father’s love guides us, helps us feel significant. 
Some children grow up wrapped in hugs. 
Some hear bedtime stories every night.  
And some children wonder what love is supposed to feel like. 
This story is for them. 
Page 5
A father’s love guides us, helps us feel significant. 
Some children grow up wrapped in hugs. 
Some hear bedtime stories every night.  
And some children wonder what love is supposed to feel like. 
This story is for them. 
Page 6-7
One day, a quiet boy named Tom was thinking big thoughts:
thoughts about family, thoughts about love, thoughts about truth.
Some thoughts felt confusing.

Pages 8-9
“Hello, Tom,” said a deep, gentle voice.
Tom looked up. “Do I know you?”
“Not yet,” said the man. “But you have heard of Me.”
Page 10-11
Tom studied Him for a moment. 
“Oh, you’re God, the one everyone talks about.”
“Yes.”
Tom took a breath. “I have a question.”
“I like questions,” God said.
“Is it true that you can do anything?”
“Yes,” God replied. “I created the heavens and the earth.”
Pages 12-13
Curiosity tugged at Tom’s heart. “Is there anything You can’t do?”
“Yes.”
Tom’s eyes widened. He was not expecting that answer.
“How can both be true?” Tom asked.
“It is called a paradox.”
Tom looked puzzled.
“That means two surprising things can both be true,” God added.
Page 14-15
“Here’s a riddle for you,” said God. 
“Imagine I made a rock so big that it would be impossible to pick up.”
Tom thought big. He stretched his arms wide. 
“Humongous, bigger than a mountain, bigger than the moon.”
Pages 16-17
God laughed, the kind of laugh that made Tom feel safe.
“Yes. And one more: a solid rock,” God said. “A bedrock.”
Tom blinked. “What’s a bedrock?”
“A bedrock is a strong rock with no cracks, a rock to build on.”
Tom nodded.
“It is a rock of truth,” God said. “Like Me.”
“Why a bedrock?”
Pages 18-19
“Because I spoke truth when I made the world,” God explained. 
“Truth is what the world stands on.”
Tom was quiet. “So you cannot lie?”
“I cannot.” God’s voice grew quiet.
“Lies slip through like water on sand.” 
Pages 20-21
“They wash things away, even the things the heart wants to keep,” He said. 
Tom thought for a moment. 
“So truth keeps lies from taking root,” Tom said softly.
“Yes,” God replied. “Truth stands strong.” 
Pages 22-23
Tom looked up. 
“How can I know it is really You?”
“I am always here,” God said gently. “But it is your choice to see Me.”
Tom thought for a moment.
 “Why do I decide?”
Pages 24-25
“Because love must be freely given,” God said. 
“I did not make you like a tree, rooted in one place. 
I made you with a heart,  to come close or turn away.”
Pages 26-27
“And when you follow truth,” God added gently, 
“your heart stands safe, built on the solid rock of what is real.”
“I feel safe with You.”
Pages 28-29
Tom looked down, thinking.
“So the riddle wasn’t really about the size of the rock.”
“It was about your heart,” God said, 
“and what you choose to build upon.”
“It’s up to me,” Tom said.
“Always,” God replied. 
Tom smiled.

2 responses to “FMF Jan 2026”

  1. Pam Dow Avatar
    Pam Dow

    Thanks for sharing! Joining you from FMF #23 this week.

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    1. brontebrown2 Avatar
      brontebrown2

      The rest of the story is uploaded. I decided to post the whole story.

      Like

      Reply
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Haikus, Poetry and more January 2026

riding on northeasterly wind,
pushing Autumn's warmth aloft,
winter's long-awaited entrance. 
My shadow and I 
a dance in the sunshine
in sync
1.	Mångata

shimmering night cadence
skipping across a frozen plateau
Mångata reverie

2.	Autumn’s Play

leaf-whistles
needles oscillate
psithuric wind song 

trees shimmer
deeply yawning 
anticipation stirs

aureate
honeyed, tawny, burnt
Autumn's play

3.	soulful

a soulful tune
summer's harmony in sync
cicadas sing.

4.	psithuric whisper

psithuric whispers
a wooed heart-
her breath catches


rimes - rapid freezing of water vapors
--




rare fire horse
forward, focused, adaptable 
old notions gone

coming moments 
of wonderment and awe
touching the soul

In God's Word
seek perspicacious
clarity.

He has given us the Holy Spirit



burnishing glow
the Cold Moon kneels,
terrestrial kiss
brushed golds
silver highlights
lush greenery
5.	
Oneiric trails

ice feathers
scrape the sky

dancing while tomorrow 
sleeps

beneath your pillow,
wonder waits

6.	Crepuscular Moment

burnishing glow
the Cold Moon kneels
terrestrial kiss

7.	Winter’s Deep Sleep

moonbeams prance 
atop the subnivean zone, 
a gentle nightlight 

winter's shield 
snow blanket or hoarfrost, 
what holds, what rimes, 

silence broken 
predatory footfalls 
winter creaks 

relentless onslaught 
of graupel, freeze and thaw-
precarious

safely tucked 
in the between, nestled deep, 
all sleep
--

Nature’s Fury

blissed ignorance 
twirling in the wind
a prelude

whispered chaos 
distance rumbles 
sirens forewarn

impending danger 
thunderous clouds clash
hook echo forms

wrapped winds, 
dark tornadoes swirl, 
March roars

nature’s fury 
in the eyes of the beholder-
watch
---
Before Tomorrow Wakes /
With a crescent wink
 and radiating argent hues, 
the night sky wakes. 

Tomorrow sleeps 
while silver beams thread through the darkness, 
inviting whimsy 
to skate on imaginative trails. 

Dreams dance. 

Slow, quick-quick, slow-
 a small step etched 
with sandy footprints. 

Chimerical images skirt 
golden pathways 
across a sea of midnight blue. 

Suspended momentarily 
from Ganymede's summit, 
hangs a breathtaking view. 

Laced with ice feathers, 
dreams frolic on 
through the night sky, 
searching for sky treasures. 

Stories lie quiet 
in star streams 
as wide-eyed tales 
fill the mind's eye. 

Tomorrow wakes.

dreams collide
with opportunity
a star is born
Star Streams/ Before Tomorrow Wakes/ Prose
With a crescent wink and radiating argent hues, the night sky wakes. Tomorrow sleeps while silver beams thread through the darkness, inviting whimsy to skate on imaginative trails. Dreams dance.  

Slow, slow, quick-quick, slow, a small step etched with sandy footprints. Chimerical images skirt golden pathways across a sea of midnight blue. From Ganymede's summit, a breathtaking view is suspended momentarily.  

Laced with ice feathers, dreams frolic on through the night sky, searching for sky treasures. Stories lie quiet in star streams as wide-eyed tales fill the mind's eye. Tomorrow wakes.

dreams dance
on silvery moonbeams,
tomorrow sleeps
----
burnishing cerpuscular glow
Earth's kiss in terrestrial embrace
Cold Moon rises

short form

burnishing glow
The Cold Moon kneels
terrestrial kiss
---
rare fire horse
forward, focused, adaptable 
old notions gone

coming moments 
of wonderment and awe
touching the soul

short version
clarity
focused awe
renewed

Happy New Year!

Leave a comment

Haiku Oct



Zephyr
morning stillness
rhythmic movement
zephyr and leaf

Leaf-whistles
Needles oscillate
Psithuric wind song 

Trees shimmer
deeply yawning 
Anticipation stirs
long-awaited hues
brilliant, buff, earthy
wind song
long-awaited
brilliant colors
fleeting
burnt, buff, earthy, 
ushering in sienna hues,
autumn's display 
1. Magnolia Blossom
elegant folds
beautiful and simplistic
cradling life

2. Captivated 
sense of errantry
a whispered psithurism,
she catches her breath

3. Zephyr
morning stillness
rhythmic movement
zephyr and leaf

4. Mångata
sea of midnight blue
whimsical images skirt 
Mångata pathways 
submitted June 8, 2025
aureate
honeyed, tawny, burnt
Autumn's play

psithurism
reeds sing in the wind
howling change
a gentle psithurism 
passes through,
catching her breathe 
Captivated

sense of errantry
a whispered psithurism 
she catches her breath
a sea of midnight blue
whimsical images
skirt along
Mangata pathways 
   night recedes behind the stars-
    no thought to pending troubles
    tomorrow sleeps
Evening's warm hues 
cast a spell 
of tranquility
a songless world 
yearns for echoes of a
promised aria
Morning stillness
Rhythmic movement
Zephyr and leaf
life lives on in
bifurcating branches of
generational rings 
leaf-whistles,
needles oscillate in
psithuric wind song
misty, moisty morning
hovering fog clouds
kissing the dew
Nature's mystery sprightly beads nestle betwixt succulent leaves  

Pearly light of glistening eyes echoes a dance of the coming spring.
a soulful tune
summer's harmony in sync
cicadas sing 
Shimmering night cadence
skipping across a frozen plateau
Mångata reverie 

or 
a sea of midnight blue
whimsical images skirt 
Mångata pathways 
Tempean beauty
Tranquil coastal charmer
Titivated lace
Hegemonic media parrots the same song.
morning’s blush
slips through
the mizzling mist 
cicadas sing
silence merges with darkness 
tree shadows creep
Tempean ox-eye
titivated petals bloom
butterflies dance
frozen heart
a kind touch
melting point
high noon
shadows hide 
under feet
whispers of wishes
ascending to heaven as
I lay down to sleep.

Haikus and more Nov/Dec 2025

Winter’s Lace

Vibrant winter blooms 
cast against a snowy canvas,
beneath brooding skies.


Amaryllis’ view from the window,
periwinkle winks in reply,
whisper-warm

A little ray of sunshine,
melancholy banishment 
Winter jasmine.

Persistence cold, 
dancing flurries. 
Pansies thrive.

Deep into winter
Primrose’s colors delight.
Stark against the snow

Pale Season of Titivated Lace 
(rewrite of Winter’s Lace)

Vibrant blooms ignite against a blank canvas under brooding, iron-gray skies. 

Amaryllis gazes out from the window; a periwinkle winks back, whisper-warm.

Across a stark alabaster landscape, autumn falls silent while pansies thrive.

Bleak, bitter, yet, in defiance, Narcissus lifts its radiant face for all to see.

A little ray of sunshine, burnishing a crepuscular glow, Wendy’s Gold rises.

Lucille’s Squill, whimsical scent swirls with the turning season.

Write an imaginative landscape poem without using snow, snowy or wintry terms. 
Winter's Lace cont-

Varied highs and lows,
February vacillates.
Snowdrops appear.

Narcissus’ beauty
shines for all to see,
defying winter’s hold

Colorful and sweet
Pansies’ cousin, Viola,
a winter survivor.

Glory-of-the-Snow,
star-shaped and whimsical,
greets winter’s end.
A little ray of sunshine 
burnishing a crepuscular glow, 
the Wendy’s Gold rises. 

Lucile’s Squill
whimsical scent swirl,
 Hints of a seasonal shift. 

Wassailing through their quarters, Holly and Ivy sang yuletide tunes. 
Preening on the desert table, a bourbon-soaked fruitcake that could render a sailor drunk in minutes. 
And next door, the inflatable dancing  Santa, now plastered like an Andy Warhol-inspired Art Deco project. TopTweetTuesday challenge.
long-awaited
brilliant hues
fleeting

Long awaited
brilliant, burnt, tawny
fleeting
Extravagant
Encore dance
Nature's splendor

Dancing in the wind
Feels like Freedom
unabated
November's finest
Harvest hues
Beaver's night light 

seasonal shift
burnt, buff, earthy, 
ushering in sienna hues,
autumn's display 
long-awaited hues
brilliant, buff, earthy
wind song
seasonal shift
burnt, buff, earthy,
ushering in sienna hues,

aureate
honeyed, tawny, burnt
Autumn's play
anatomy of a tree
bare for all to see,
bone deep artistry 
Silent church bells
Once a beacon of light
God's Word still rings 
shopping cart battle
obstacles along the aisles
thanksgiving gaming
Rustling leaves,
trees shiver, yawing deeply-
anticipation.

Fall's first scent hovers
in between the blurred lines
of a seasonal shift.

Leaf whistles,
needles oscillate in a
psithuric wind song. 

Crimson hues slip through
the mizzling mist of
Autumn's play.

Seasonal timing
grounding roots, true friends are the
rings inside.
Oneiric trails
ice feathers
scrape the sky

oneiric impression
dancing while tomorrow 
sleeps

oneiric interludes
beneath your pillow,
lies wonderment

o·nei·ric- dream-like quality
Learning to use a new word in a haiku. 
black silhouette
dark blues and grays
rippling thoughts

haiku for lake picture
@KarynCurtis21
Early morning on the lake ❄️
Imaginative trails laced with ice feathers,
Puck's in the wind searching for sky treasures. 
Oneiric trails
ice feathers 
scrape the sky
burnishing crepuscular glow
Earth's kiss in terrestrial embrace
Cold Moon rises

short form

burnishing glow
the Cold Moon kneels
terrestrial kiss

One response to “Haikus and more Nov/Dec 2025”

  1. brightstardancing Avatar
    brightstardancing

    Love these! They’re wonderful! ✨

    Like

    Reply

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Zephr/ The Best Haiku 2025 International Anthology

By: Rhonda Bronte Brown

Morning stillness
Rhythmic movement
Zephyr and leaf

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“Threnodies”

The Orchard Poetry Journal/ Winter 2025 p. 112

“Threnodies"

As autumn falls silent under evening's snow, 
sheltered seeds don winter's coat below. 
Sleeping silently beneath winter's breath, 
trees fold into a counterfeit death. 
 
A magical moment when the sun stands still, 
winter begins with a brisk, cold chill. 
 
Wintry winds whistle ceaseless threnodies, 
glistens frosty precip melodies. 
Amidst frigid fields, icicles drip. 
Cardinals swoop midstream for a sip.

Mice tucked warmly under subnivean snow, 
moonbeams prance across a snowlit plateau. 
Betwixt two astral stars, the moon hangs bright, 
eerie wolf howls echo through the night. 
 
Playful trickery, a spring bud pops its head. 
Winter snaps, not yet, and tucks them back to bed.
Thank you for submitting your work to The Orchards Poetry Journal. It is our great pleasure to inform you that we have selected your poem, Threnodies, for publication in our Winter 2025 issue.

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Thresholds

November 2025
Thresholds traces the transition from autumn’s waning light through the deep stillness and renewal of winter, exploring nature’s rhythms, endurance, and transformation.
I. Thresholds

Trees shimmer 
deeply yawning -
anticipation stirs.

Autumn equinox,
the balance of light and dark,
time juncture converts.

Facing eastward.
Fall moon on the horizon
blazing golden hues.

Extravagant colors!
A migratory bird's last song.
Light wanes for evening.

Granting Fall's wish
for an encore flower dance.
Winter procrastinates.

II. Winter Solstice

motionless sun
the darkest moment
light breaks through

climactic pause
night tide meets at Winter's gate
light connects

the sun stands still,
a brief magical moment
winter begins

III. Winter’s Deep Sleep

moonbeams prance 
atop the subnivean zone,
a gentle nightlight

winter's shield
snow blanket or hoarfrost, 
what holds, what rimes

silence broken
predatory footfalls
winter creaks

unyielding onslaught
of graupel, freeze and thaw, 
precarious, 

safely tucked
in the between, nestled deep,
all sleep

IV. Winter’s Lace

Vibrant winter blooms 
cast against a snowy canvas,
beneath brooding skies.

Amaryllis’ view from the window,
periwinkle winks in reply,
whisper-warm

A little ray of sunshine,
melancholy banishment
Winter jasmine.

Persistence cold, 
dancing flurries. 
Pansies thrive.

Deep into winter
Primrose’s delightful colors,
stark against the snow

Varied highs and lows,
February vacillates,
Snowdrops appear.

Narcissus’ beauty
shines for all to see,
defying winter’s hold

Colorful and sweet
Pansies’ cousin, Viola,
a winter survivor.

Glory-of-the-Snow,
star-shaped and whimsical,
greets winter’s end.

V. Pale Season of Titivated Lace 
(rewrite of Winter’s Lace)

Vibrant blooms ignite against a blank canvas under brooding, 
iron-gray skies. 

Amaryllis gazes out from the window; a periwinkle winks back, whisper-warm.

Across a stark alabaster landscape, autumn falls silent while pansies thrive.

Bleak, bitter, yet, in defiance, Narcissus lifts its radiant face 
for all to see.

A little ray of sunshine, burnishing a crepuscular glow, 
Wendy’s Gold rises.

Lucille's Squill whimsical scent swirls with the turning season.

VI. Threnodies

As autumn falls silent under evening's snow, 
sheltered seeds don winter's coat below. 
Sleeping silently beneath winter's breath, 
trees fold into a counterfeit death. 

A magical moment when the sun stands still, 
winter begins with a brisk, cold chill. 

Wintry winds whistle ceaseless threnodies, 
glistens frosty precip melodies. 
Amidst frigid fields, icicles drip. 
Cardinals swoop midstream for a sip. 

Mice tucked warmly under subnivean snow, 
moonbeams prance across a snowlit plateau. 
Betwixt two astral stars, the moon hangs bright, 
eerie wolf howls echo through the night. 

Playful trickery, a spring bud pops its head. 
Winter snaps, not yet— and tucks them back to bed.

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