When Children Laugh, Angels Smile


Here are some rhymes that speak to my inner child, playing in the garden with fairies. I hope you like them! My kids and I are enjoying vacation week! I’ll try hard to catch up with everyone next week. My reader has been losing my likes again! Have a magical long weekend!! Warmly, Brenda

Originally posted on The inscrutable paths of the spirit:

Angel flying
Today I have a wish to make someone smile…

10 Fireflies in a Jar

10 Fireflies in a jar
Wishing upon a star
10 Fireflies in a jar
Blow my wishes far
10 Fireflies in a jar
I kept the lid ajar
10 Fireflies in a jar
Flew up to the stars!

Victorian angel 2

Angel Kisses

Angel kisses
Angel wishes
Sleeping sweet
Angels meet
In the sky
So will I!

Victorian angel

Something Sweet

Mommy Dear, I want to eat
Something yummy, something sweet
Ice cream, Cookies, Chocolate treats
Mommy Dear, don’t make me eat
Porridge, fish and pickled beet
When all I want is something sweet!

Victorian angel 3

Rainbow Shoes

One, two
Put on Rainbow shoes
Three, Four
Open the magic door
Five, six
Oh, there’s a witch!
Seven, eight
But I’m not afraid!
Nine, ten
Let’s go home again!

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Cherry Intoxication

Drunk with cherry blossom aroma,
The tiniest fairy weaves a crooked path,
Skating down pink branches and
Leaping petal to petal, wings beating happily.
The pollen coats her so thickly,
The bees start to pursue her.

Cherry blossoms in Spring

She shimmers into her other form.
A pale white butterfly flutters
Where once a tiny girl with wings flew.
The bees give up the chase,
Turnings back to the cherry blooms,
Here for such a short time.

 Juniper Berries in Spring

Erratically, the fae-butterfly flies,
Lighting finally on a juniper bush.
She changes back to a young girl,
Sipping nectar from the blue dew-cones.
Her transparent wings flitter, flutter.
Then on into spring she adventures.

 Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Triquain: Hyacinth


Flowers bow to morning,
Embracing hope for a warm spring,
Ready to rise up and have some fun in the sun,
Celebrating the warming spring days,
Dancing with new tulips:


Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: The triquain is a 7-line poem with syllables increasing then decreasing by threes: 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, and 3. Longer versions and complicated repeating content are also common flavors, but I chose to keep it simple for my first try. This was inspired by the Paint Your World with Words Weekly Poetry Prompt, Triquain.

Happy Earth Day!!

Earth Day could be Ocean Day, since the earth is 71 percent water by surface area. The Pacific Ocean alone covers nearly a third of the planet!! New England is merely a small smear on the coast of one continent, and my home just a tiny pinprick. And yet, my small neighborhood yields such beauty, especially considering it snowed last week.

Magnolia Tree in Sunshine


Earth Day is April 22, and the first was in 1970 in the U.S. The U.S. holiday was meant to  create a focal point for environmental awareness, because of the mess business interests had made of our land and waterways. Now, more than a billion people in 180 nations across the world celebrate Earth Day. Many people celebrate by planting trees, bushes or flowers. Many companies celebrate by starting recycling campaigns or cleanup initiatives. 

Pink Azalea buds

White and Yellow Daffodils    Tricolor Pansies

I plan to celebrate by walking in the woods and by sharing this song of awe.


Planet of Connection

On a quiet day, nothing moves.
Yet, the earth flies around the sun
Faster than a bullet speeding from a gun.
Molten rock seethes deep in its inner core,
Air is hot at the equator but frozen at the poles.

Geysers spout, mountains fall,
Rivers carve stone and move ships.
Water is moving, as is the wind, the air
And the earth itself: tectonic plates shifting,
Earthquakes and weather spiraling.

The Moon pulls the life-filled oceans
Into ceaseless waves, even while lighting the night,
And aligning rhythms deep inside each of us.
Our blood and breath, always moving,
Like our thoughts, never still.

We are all connected, and yet
We are all separate, each mind alone.
The same elements make up each of us.
Whatever our color, religion or location.
We are all stardust, water and earth.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

References: http://www.slate.com/blogs/bad_astronomy/2014/04/22/earth_day_2014_a_few_fun_facts_about_our_planet.html




Wordle # 5 – The Albatross – Fairy Tale


Georgia has created a delightful, colorful fairy tale that keeps you guessing until the end. I hope you enjoy it!! My kids are on school vacation week this week, so my internet time will be greatly reduced, but I’ll catch up next week. :-) Warmly, Brenda

Originally posted on Bastet and Sekhmet's Library:

wordle61 The musk scented smell of blood reeked from the willows near my favorite swimming pond, down near the eastern woods.  The smell was so in discordance with the beauty of the place, full of shade, and flowers.   I often imagined that a coven of water nymphs lived there. Now, the sweet cloying smell of a wounded animal  knotted my stomach and closed my throat .

Gagging I searched through the thickets and found a mound of old mouldering tangerine skins.  These were kind of disgusting, but didn’t explain that particular odor.  Then a strange sight met my eyes!  An albatross lay wounded, dying with an arrow in its wing.  I couldn’t have been more surprised had I met up with a Polaris missile in my backyard, this pool was so far from where any albatross should be.

It’s eyes seemed to be two mendicants begging for surcease from…

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Flash Fiction: Hedgehog High-Jinks


High-Jinks the Hedgehog nosed a chestnut out of the mulch and bit into it, despite its age and moldy taste, munching it quickly, but careful to leave a piece for his buddy, Skimp the Shrew. The pickings in early spring are sparse. Skimp nodded gratefully at him: a moldy chestnut was better than none.

“The winter was a hard one. Not much forage is left.” Skimp chattered in his high voice, after finished the chestnut. He nosed through the mulch, looking for seeds.

High-Jinks nodded his head and climbed up on a rock to see if he could find any other chestnuts.

When Queen Maldragon of the Sidhe flashed past him, he was grumpy and refused to bow. Unfortunately for him, Queen Maldragon was even grumpier and turned him to stone on the spot. Skimp hid behind the rock and escaped notice. All of the flowers bowed their heads until the Queen swept past, headed for Mermaid Caves. Skimp ran off as soon as the Queen was out of sight.

The flowers whispered to each other. Was Skimp going for help? Would he summon the Mushroom Trolls of Safire Rock? Could the trolls reverse a spell of Queen Maldragon?

“Skimp is headed for his burrow and won’t be out for days,” one flower guessed, sadly.

“No!” asserted another, “He’ll be back!”

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham


Candy Dish Haibun

Some people can’t believe in themselves until someone else believes in them first.
– Good Will Hunting

Bluebells and snowdrops at foot of tree

My grandmother had a small two-bedroom apartment on the second floor of a building in Youngstown, Ohio. My parents would drop me off for a visit, and Grandma Myers and I would spend several days, just the two of us. We would visit Mill Creek Park and walk through the extensive flower gardens.

Each visit, I would perch on one of her two couches, and look through old loose photographs, older generations of Shumakers and Myers intermingling with newer ones in the disorganized drawer of her breakfront. She would sit beside me, naming people, so that I learned my family’s faces without ever meeting most of them. After several years, I knew who they all were myself. I loved looking through those photographs, most of them black and white, seeing my mother as she grew up.

On Grandma’s coffee table was a candy dish, full of colorful, hard candies. Some were in clear wrappers and some were wrapped to resemble strawberries. I would eye her candy dish, but she never invited me to have one. One day, when we were talking about going to visit her sister, she noticed me eying her leaf-shaped candy dish.

“I always keep candy here,” she said, smelling sweetly of perfume and talcum powder, wearing a belted dress. “I told your mother that the candy was for guests, and she never touched a single piece. I was very proud of her for resisting the candy.” My grandmother fixed her hazel eyes on me, behind their cat shaped glasses. She looked at me a while in silence, to see if I understood what she was saying.

I thought over her words. She was not inviting me to eat the candy. Rather, she was suggesting I should not eat any of it at all. I thought this was a bit cruel, and I was sad at first. I realized that my not eating the candy was very important to her, and so I did not eat one piece. We dropped the subject, and I never asked her for any.

When my grandmother’s niece came for a visit, she offered her and her daughter Becky a piece of candy. Becky was near my age, and she happily unwrapped one and popped it in her mouth. I was jealous for few seconds. But then I was proud. I realized that I was not a guest in Grandma’s house. I was family; I belonged.

After a while, I hardly noticed the candy dish, and I did not feel tempted by it. Her eyes gleamed with approval in the evenings, when she would look at it, and notice it was still full.

Looking back, over the long years, I realize she taught me willpower. I would not have believed I could be in the room with candy and not eat a single bit. My stepmother used to hide snickers bars, not trusting any of us, but I knew from the clink of the good flatware that she had hidden them in the dining room buffet. My grandmother left candy out in plain sight, and there it stayed. She believed in me, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. I still look at that hard candy in stores, knowing it’s not for me. I can live without it.

old apple tree
wide branches slow the wind
bulbs bloom above roots

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Inspired by the Haibun Thinking, Quote Week.

Happy Easter!

Purple Crocuses in Bloom

May the flowers be blooming
No thorny troubles looming
No loved ones glooming
Joy and love finding room in
Bird song and kitten crooning

Magnolia Blooms


Ears hear only colorful sound
Where imagination is found
Tight bindings are unbound
Old deadwood is downed
Magnolias bloom all round

Fairy on a Hare with Crow

Returning geese take wing
Making ever-young hearts sing
Spring music makes hips swing
Spinning lovers into a highland fling
In an enchanted fairy ring

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Pink Fairy Camo

heather blooming on stone wall

Little girls ask, where do Pink Fairies hide?
Well, some days, they can’t decide.
Under mushrooms or behind leaves were spots tried,
but amongst the heather won by a landslide.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

A Secret Garden


I hope you have a moment to take a stroll in Line’s magical garden, alive with ladybugs, frogs, hedgehogs and grasshoppers. Grab a mug of tea (or coffee) and share some magic. Blessings, Brenda

Originally posted on The inscrutable paths of the spirit:

VLUU L100, M100  / Samsung L100, M100
A secret garden of roses red
And daffodils in flowerbeds
Apple trees with tiny blooms
Grasses green and meadows blue
Hidden pathways of pebbled rocks
Fairy trails of forget-me-nots
Tall dense hedges in tidy rows
Spurs of life and seeds that grow
Strawberries in crimson beds
Trees with plums all ripe and red
A fairy house in every nook
Under seashells by the brook
Little leaves a’ floating by
With passengers of the fairy kind
Baby robins in tiny nests
Taking their wings for a test
Anxious mothers standing by
Waiting for their babes to fly
Ladybugs are welcome too
For fleas and lice are their favorite foods
Little hedgehogs like to sleep
Behind the tall and unkempt weeds
Frogs that croak and mice that squeak
Grasshoppers with legs that tweak
Each coming day a new life arrives
And my secret garden comes alive
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