Mudiferous,
squelching ramble
beneath bare branches
and yearning buds
yields a vast harvest
in my wintry soul
of spring faith. Continue reading
Category Archives: Photography
Happy Birthday to Robert Frost
Roses for Noses
My nose misses roses
through long winter days,
but Trader Joe’s knows.
There, summers scents
come in cellophane.
Continue reading
Peace is like Sunlight
Peace is like sunlight:
I yearn toward it.
I can’t hold it in my hand.
I want it most
Continue reading
Yellow Thing
I enjoy every
yellow thing
that blooms in
early spring.
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This ditty is in honor of writing and rewriting manuscripts galore. Plus, today, I won an award-winning book thanks to a cat named Maggie. Continue reading
Happy World Poetry Day!
Some people never go crazy.
What truly horrible lives they must lead.
— Henry Charles Bukowski
I have greatly enjoyed my crazy poetry-filled day. Continue reading
Puddle Heaven
Stamp, stomp,
puddle heaven,
fountains everywhere
when you’re seven.
Laugh and howl,
wet socks,
drippy drops everywhere,
forget clocks.
Arrive speckled
with muddy blots,
not welcome everywhere,
stomach in knots.
Will mom see past hems
dripping dark dots?
Rather than dirt everywhere,
she sees cheetah spots!
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: Poets find joy in puddles:
“The world is mud-luscious…
[and] puddle-wonderful”
— e.e. cummings
Since writing a haibun on puddles, I’ve wondered how cumming’s mother viewed him, arriving home. My poem’s been in its chrysalis, but finally that wondering took shape and spread wings.
Another fun poem about puddles is Puddle Splash by Roann Mendriq:
What is it about rain puddles,
that make one want to splash?
That turns us into children,
in a quick and happy flash?
Read the rest here.
Big thanks to Robyn Hood Black, a wonderful poet and author, for hosting this week’s Kidlitospere Poetry Friday extravaganza.
Three Limerick Tale of Leprechaun and Kitten
Tiny O’Toole loved a kitten.
He felt himself hard bitten.
“Ouch!” he cried.
“Open wide!”
He stuffed her in his mitten.
“Now, that’s not fitting’,”
complained the kitten.
“Let me out
or I’ll shout.
After all, I’m no Briton!”
O’Toole sipped mead,
and then he agreed:
“Come out!
No doubt
you mistook me for tweed.”
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: Happy St. Patrick’s Day! The art work is a stained glass plate I made with my daughter. A limerick is a light-hearted poem with the rhyming pattern AABBA. A lines are shorter than B lines. My all-time most viewed post is Leprechaun Limerick. I also wrote a set of three limericks on being Irish.
Love Stays
Love never fully goes away;
it lingers, like a vine white with winter,
remembering its heyday.
Its memory can sting like a splinter.
Best to give the vine sunshine;
don’t let it grow stiff and cold.
Green leaves unfold on mine
because new love grows from old.
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: I’ve joined Twitter, and my what a fun free-for-all party it is: a cocktail party with air kisses, heady drinks and no one pigeon-holing me with long stories. If you’re on Twitter and want to friend me, I’m @BrendaDHarsham. Eventually, I’ll figure out how to put that somewhere useful on my sidebar.
I’m not sure I like how WP publishes to Twitter, though. I wasn’t fond of the way it publishes to FB (no line breaks in text), but that’s better than how it publishes to Twitter. It just publishes the title then a link. None of the text of the post appears, just one photo. No matter how engaging your first line or two, no one on Twitter will see it unless they click the link. Now I understand why so many people put hashtags in post titles — because otherwise, they never show up in your tweet, and won’t pop into anyone’s search on that tag without them.
And you can’t edit a tweet. You have to delete and redo if you post in the middle of the night in a state of advanced exhaustion (and grammar has departed for the day).
All that said, the people on Twitter have been welcoming and lovely. Hugs all around.
Reindeer Games in #Finland
Air snaps at the Finland
Winter Festival.
Carnival fragrances
of coffee and sweet dough
mingle with the muskier
scent of reindeer.
Reindeer racers hail
from Finland without fail,
but also Spain, Germany,
France, Australia and Italy!
To Oulu from
far and near,
they race and laugh
with joyful reindeer.
Kids of all ages watch and ride.
My inner kid wants to finish
the Finnish challenge
one day, wrapped in my parka
and wearing a rainbow cap.
Maybe I’ll even see the
Northern lights.
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Photographs used by permission of Sartenada. If you wonder what it looks like beyond the Arctic Circle in summer, she has another great post with reindeer. I learned many names for reindeer in other languages, rennes (French), renos (Spanish), poro (Finnish), renna (Italian), rentier (German), ren (Romanian) and 驯鹿 (Chinese).
Gamine Grin
Gray rain, icy day,
can’t take my grin away.
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: It rained all day, and I have the flu, but I can’t let it get me down. Have a magical week.
Pining for Finland
Brown bear, brown bear,
what do you see?
Reindeer herds or
Santa in Rovaniemi?
May to August,
the midnight sun lights Lapland.
Under that luminous sky,
the Sámi teach that all
beings and objects have souls.
Paintings, pottery,
dolls and blankets have stories.
A Sámi kota is a circular tent,
a place for visions and healing.
Brown bear, brown bear,
what do you see?
A Lake Saimaa seal,
cut off from the sea?
Long winer nights are
lit by aurora borealis,
heaven’s fireworks,
the celestial dragon.
If we listen,
what will we hear?
Notes: Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? is a classic children’s book written by Bill Martin, Jr. and illustrated by Eric Carle. I pay homage here to a book my kids love, and I reread so many times it feels part of my DNA.
I’ve seen a rise in visitors from Finland, and I wanted to learn more about it. Finland’s cities of light are dwarfed by its vast wilderness near the arctic circle. In between Sweden and Russia, Finland flies its cross-of-blue flag over lakes, mountains, forests, rocky inlets, migrating birds and northern lights. It’s a place of magic, with trees frozen like trolls, glass igloos and brown bear roaming free.
The painting is a watercolor of mine from twenty years ago, tweaked by iPhoto.
Friendly Fairy Tales 