windy days blowing
dandelion kisses high
children make wishes
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
The sun is blinding hot today, a taste of summer to come in four weeks. In a previous post, Visitor in the Temple Haibun, I wrote about irises that came in the soil of my house. For years they sent up green leaves, but never did they bloom except once.
Two years ago, I moved them from their spot beside the wild forsythia. An iris grows from a fat root that sits shallowly in the soil. Planted too deep, it will never bloom. Once transported, irises can take years to acclimate and rebloom. But taken care of, the root will outlive us all.
patient, enduring
hibernating deeply
blooming when ready
This morning, those iris roots, probably older than me but certainly older than all my children, have bloomed again. Last winter’s severe cold must have given them a taste for summer’s heat. Across the street, my neighbor’s irises also greet the sunshine, proudly and without shyness.
elegant beards drape
velvet walkways invites bees
tomorrow’s blooms wait
Note: This post is dedicated to those who persevere, who ride out the hard times, make homes wherever they are transplanted, and then bloom when the moment is right. You know who you are. 🙂
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note on photographs: The above picture is of the irises that have finally bloomed for me. These below are those from across the street, neighboring monarchs.
If you need some soul-renewing flowers to spark your imagination and remind you of the wonder of childhood, then Jessica Hagan is the place for you! I hope you have time to visit her. It’s 80 and sunny here, today, but I am inside putting words together and hoping for some magic. I hope some magic comes your way, too. Warmly, Brenda
If you like fairy tale tongue-twisters, this poem has them galore. Lavender Moon Girl is bubbling up with magical poems and beautiful pictures this spring. I hope you have time to visit her. Cheers, Brenda
Lavender Moon: Artist, Poet and Lover of Nature

Luxurious Lupins
Flourishing,
Nourishing
Nougat turrets,
Glittering,
Tinkling
Amethyst
Pixie pinnacles.
Smell the healing fragrance of honey. Nourish your imagination.
This border in the town centre of Welwyn Garden City was filled with lupins and Cerulean iris, so beautiful.
Bumblebee, Bumblebee,
What do you see?
Are flowers as big to you as a tree to me?
Are stamens your tightrope?
Is that wet petal like a mountain slope?
Do you dream? What is your hope?
Bumblebee, bumblebee,
I care about you, you see.
Without you, there might be no me.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Seabirds scream overhead before diving into Pavilion Beach’s gentle waves. Tide pools reflect the sky. Surrounding sand is cold and muddy, squashing between my toes. A salty wind scrubs my skin raw.
The Ipswich beach is not crowded, but on one side, a sausage dog sniffs my feet and looks askance. On the other side, college students discuss over-drinking and under-studying, their laughter louder than the waves. Across the Sound, Plum Island’s sands gleam whiter than wishes. I daydream about solitude over there: just my family, the seabirds and the sunshine, sea winds blowing my cares away.
I look down at the ripples left by the tides. Overlaid are footprints of people who arrived, gazed at the same sights as me, and then departed. They left these traces of life behind: bare feet, shod feet, children’s feet, bird feet. I add my footprints to the chaos left by other beach lovers. I am part of a greater whole, separate, yet no different.
white boat bobs
sails furled, engine quiet
bird feet leave no trace
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
“Look at the baby!” An elder fairy cooed then sipped nectar of jalapeño.
“Oh, she’s so cute!” A barrista fairy chimed in, while handing out honey-frappes.
“Look how pink she is!” A third fairy exclaimed, sipping her honeysuckle frappuccino.
“Thanks, my dears,” the mother fairy replied, “I just hope she naps!”
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Happy Memorial Day, everybody, from the Rhododendron Fairy Cafe!
Warmly, Brenda