Back in the dim and distant past (one year ago), I wrote this haiku after my then two-year-old son told us, for the first time, of what we later realised was his dream. He was intently describing the naughtiness of the man who had eaten his cake and apple, as vividly as if he had experienced it himself. It is fascinating to see a new mind coping with the phantoms of nightmares.
The image that makes the haiga is more prosaic, expounding on my love of Melton Mowbray pork pies (a classic piece of English cuisine) and my love of charts.
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Back in the dim and distant past (one year ago), I wrote this haiku after my then two-year-old son told us, for the first time, of what we later realised was his dream. He was intently describing the naughtiness of the man who had eaten his cake and apple, as vividly as if he had experienced it himself. It is fascinating to see a new mind coping with the phantoms of nightmares.
The image that makes the haiga is more prosaic, expounding on my love of Melton Mowbray pork pies (a classic piece of English cuisine) and my love of charts.
Toodlepip,
Hobbes
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