Five syllables here.
Seven syllables are here.
What should I put here?
We, a free-versed family, will learn rhyming form and meter and walk across our pages with lithe poetic feet. Today we tackle the haiku, because it is short and fits the attention spans of my tween, teen, and aging mother. My son quick in wit and to get it over with gives us all three lines, the third to match the first.
My mother says, "At least it has 5-7-5 syllables, so many I read don't, but maybe I was reading a dooku or iku or sinku or tanku."
I laughing announce, "Very well, but we don't have a leap of thought."
My son thinks it, but my daughter's tongue jumps the gap first. She says, "What should I put here?"
We're done. It's raining. We will now watch Star Wars, again. But we still don't have a title, so I say, "Let's call it Count Dooku's Haiku." And now finished we are and rather proud of our creation; it took four of us to do it.
