anyone? 
“The nightingales scatter,
should I scrape the reed?”
There once was a blind piper from Nantucket
who had such a bad reed he couldn’t hack it,
he said with a groan, as he fiddled with his drones,
if I knew what a reed looked like I could adjust it!
Ah, wait, that’s not a haiku, is it?
distant, resonant
unseen piper tuning drones
…ah, no: cicada
the sun sets , I close my pipe box .
I will play on the next day .
I open the pipebox and play . 
.
The reeds start to drone
A melody is o’erlaid
The call of the pipes
It’s late
for Chris’sake
complains the wife
A bored out stick rare wood,
Bored ear and lawyer.
The Piper’s Wife
by Maura O Farrell
If you should want a quiet life,
Then never be a piper’s wife
He’ll drive you mad with tales of woe
Of how his reeds refuse to crow,
And when his drones are out of tune,
You’ll really have to leave the room.
Those pipes will make him curse and swear,
And make you want to tear your hair,
And when he comes to cran and roll,
Those off-pitch notes will take their toll.
But don’t despair, don’t leave in haste
His practice will not go to waste.
For one day you will hear a sound,
And your heart will give a mighty pound
A tune in time, a tune in pitch,
And played right through without a hitch,
And from then on, your battered ear
Can safely listen, without fear.
As the music flows at an even canter,
There’s nothing as sweet as the song of the chanter.
Crabtrees are blooming.
Tomorrow will be rainy.
My pipes will sing well.
Moonlight and Guinness
Fine tunes rolling through my head
Glorious piping
Gurgle, squeak auto-cran
Drone stop, octave missed, bag leaks
put away and curse
(Let’s try a tonka:5,7,7,5,7)
Jigs, reels, hornpipes, aires
Played at tionols everywhere
“Why’d you put that crotchet there!?!”
Asks session bully
All he does is bitch and stare.
Jumping the octave
at inopportune times will
make the cat get sick
notes slicing the air
i play to prolong my life
murdering the jigs
-joeysan
GOOD TECHNIQUE HAIKU
after nine long months
the sound of “pitter patter”
triplets delivered !!!
Boyd
www.strathsepyinmay.com
Unique in the world
Chanter, drones, regulators
My Blackwood full set
Ah, the sweetest sound
Airs, jigs reels and session tunes
My reed is played-in
No more squawks and squeaks
My reed is finally played-in
Time to play some tunes
Scrape a little here
Sanding a little more there
One more reed ruined
Off to a tionol
Humidity warps my reed
Who can play like this?
Perfect convergence
Of metal wood and leather
Making the best sounds
(a tonka 5,7,7,5,7)
Wicked is my fate
For I’ve been touched by the muse
Drawn forward by destiny
Doomed to play the pipes
I could not be happier!
Sorry, my pen runneth over… :roll:
Thou the father of
abominable practice set,
O Ba#pi\e Ga#or!
A piper said to me
“To hell with these stupid regs!”
while he played the chords
Ain’ got no half set
No synth, no pal, no guitar
Well hey, I’ll hum D
'Tis 8, I get ready
for work, I strap the belt, it came
with bag, chanter, drones.
Just like my father,
I don’t play uilleann pipes.
-Alas, I do own them.
mrk