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March 22, 2015

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The Love Challenge

There are four questions of value in life, Don Octavio.
What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made?
What is worth living for and what is worth dying for?
The answer to each is the same. Only love.

— Lord Byron

Purple flowers in stone wall

Love is elusive prey,
Love curves and flows
Down lonely love’s path,
Can I find love?

Love’s flower-shaped bell rings:
Love calls to hearts,
Stony in love’s graveyard,
Can love find me?

Love weighs like stone,
Yet, somehow, love floats.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

— Maya Angelou (from Touched by an Angel)

Note: Perhaps you read and enjoyed my poem. Perhaps you thought, that’s not how I would write about love. Perhaps the quotes have inspired you. Whatever you may have thought, I invite you to please take up your pen or let your fingers dance over the keyboard. I welcome you to join in the Love Challenge, just comment here and give me a link. I will be happy to read your poem.

I dedicate this poem to Marlyn, who invited me to take up the Love Challenge, and gave me these rules (some of which I even followed):

Write about love using only 10 lines.
Use “love” in every line.
Each line can only be 4 words long.
Nominate 10 or so others who are up for the challenge.
Let them know about the challenge.
Title the post, Love in Ten Lines.
Include a quote about love.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

March 19, 2015

Posted under

Holiday, Photography, Poetry

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55 Comments

Spring Magic

And above all, watch with glittering eyes
the whole world around you because the greatest secrets
are always hidden in the most unlikely places.
Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.

— Roald Dahl (Minpins, 1991)

Drip,
Rain
Drop
Plops,
Spring will come
With black mud, bees
And crocuses beneath trees.
Baby robins will scatter shells.
Fairies will chant vernal spells.
Birds will sing madrigals at dawn
To wood violets blooming on the lawn.
Foxglove’s speckled trumpets will play
With snowdrops and magnolias in May.

snowdrops

Ours shall be the gypsy winding
Of the path with violets blue,
Ours at last the wizard finding
Of the land where dreams come true.

— Lucy Maud Montgomery (from Spring Song)

Note: My poem, Spring Magic is a concrete poem, taking the shape of a drooping tulip or possibly a lily of the valley bell as suggested by Matt Forrest Ersenwine. Thanks, Matt! Happy Spring! This post is an ode to Spring in honor of the Vernal Equinox which is at 6:45 p.m. here on March 20, 2015. And a happy coincidence, also in honor of Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Catherine Flynn at Reading to the Core who shared a wonderful original poem for World Folk Tales and Fables Week. I hope you have time to visit her. The photographs were all taken last spring — this year the ground is covered by a knee-deep sea of receding white ice.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

March 18, 2015

Posted under

Photography

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16 Comments

Wordless Song of Seasons

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

March 13, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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49 Comments

Sounds of Spring

Thwomp-Boom, ice dams fall.
Birds sing as sunshine strengthens.
Drip, drip, icicle lengthens;
When will the snow go?

Canada Geese waddle into traffic,
Honking: Where’s the ground?
Where can food be found?
When will the snow go?

Cars honk back; engines roar.
Traffic stalls and goggles at geese.
Is it spring despite me wearing fleece?
When will the snow go?

This Poetry Friday is wrangled by Author Amok. May your inner child be joyful this weekend!

Note: I was driving back from the pediatrician with my son, who clonked his head on the ice Sunday night (he has a mild concussion and will be fine), when two prosperous-looking Canada Geese waddled right across the busy road. The sight of them in the road is unusual, they generally congregate on grassy lawns. It reminded me that the wild things are even more inconvenienced by the remaining mountains of snow than I am. And that spring is nearly here!! Woo-hoo! The geese have returned! Given I was driving, I didn’t get a picture of them.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

March 11, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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30 Comments

Remembering Leaves

With puddles and ice
Lining sidewalks and streets,
I remember leaves.

First, the tease of buds.

Then the unfurling of
New leaves, palest green,
Sidewalks awash in bud casings.

Leaves as backdrop to the blooming of
Dogwoods, tulip magnolias, pink cherries,
White pear and apple,
Mauve plum and citrine cassia.
Continue reading →

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

March 8, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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39 Comments

Calla Curl

Pink
Twirl,
Calla curl,
Silky swirl.
Snow may hide
New England’s color,
But trucked-in treasure
Startles and entrances,
My heart dances —
A wild whirl.

Notes:

On the poem: This is a concrete or shape poem, meant in this case to take the shape of a calla lily.

On the weather: We’ve had one day of sunshine, with temperatures above freezing. Old Man Winter is not gone, but at least he’s growing sleepy. The Calla Lilies are from Trader Joe’s, where the floral section is a summer garden. Here is a picture better reflecting what it still looks like outdoors here:

On Poetry Friday: super-late this week, but life gets in the way at times. Thanks to Robyn Campbell, Kids Author and Poet, for hosting!

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

March 3, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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54 Comments

Frosted Evergreens

What slumbers on
Evergreen boughs —
Snow? Or is it more?
Are they angels slippers
Left as tokens of love?
Are they lacy linen
For mountain troll tea?
Or dryad eiderdowns?
Maybe royal cloaks swirled
Round highland princelings.
Or white fairy dream-dust,
Spun from dancing and mischief.
Perhaps each icy crystal is a
Frozen wish, yet to be granted.
The clouds have floated down
To kiss the children of earth,
Pausing to embrace entwined trees.

Note: More snow is due tonight. I hear Northern Maine has over eleven feet and counting. Makes our eight feet seem paltry. I hope you are warm and safe and having magical thoughts.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

February 23, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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38 Comments

Winter Symphony

Fingertips of trees
Gusts of wind bear thistledown
Symphony in gray

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

February 21, 2015

Posted under

Humor, Photography

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45 Comments

Monster Icicles Swallow New England

One hundred inches* of snow has fallen!

That’s 8’4”. Taller than the world’s tallest person. Taller than Big Bird!

Shorter than some of our icicles!

We’re exhausted from beating icicles off our houses and from launching newly fallen snow to such towering heights. But we’re still smiling and planning the next party (going to one this afternoon in fact).

So woo-hoo to all of you!!

Warmly, Brenda

*Note: For the rest of the world, that’s just over two and a half meters — so much less impressive written that way.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

February 19, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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52 Comments

Speak for Compassion

On this bench, many times I have contemplated skinned knees, heard stories of woe or watched battles royal fought by three- and four-foot folk. Now the snow and cold drives us indoors, where children’s pains seem more internal as well.

Speak softly
Without haste,
For a word,
Ill-placed,
May strike a blow
To one hurt
On the inside.
This we can avert.

Reflect on any
Plans or actions.
Evil arises from
Creation of factions.
Harsh words divide,
Conquer and defeat.
Imagine being the other.
Use compassion. Repeat.

Whether we are talking about children, adults, religions, towns or countries, we all need to pause and reflect. To imagine life as the other.

I don’t like to moralize,
Or antagonize,
But in the face of evil
Speak I will.
Choose an action
From compassion.

Note: The combination of poetry, interspersed in prose, is called a haibun. This recent rash of school shootings, terrorism and racial and religious violence moved me to speak together with many others, in a movement started by Yvonne Spence. Let’s create a better world for our children, a magical, safe world where differences are celebrated rather than used to divide and ridicule.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

February 16, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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60 Comments

Snowy Trees

Snowy trees up to their knees
In a snow-packed deep freeze.
Bend, creak, snap and sneeze,
Branches speak with the breeze.

Note: New England has been blessed with about 90 inches of snow in three weeks. Roads are narrow and icy. Snow banks along driveways and roads are mammoth. Visibility is nil. The White Wizard has sent a blizzard unlike any we have ever seen.