clouds crystalize
raindrops dissolve light into
diamond dewdrops
sunshine is a memory
but cleansing tears renew life
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Category Archives: Poetry
Plum Island Haibun
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
Flower Maelstrom
colorful maelstrom
paradise of May flowers
butterflies welcomed
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Rhododendron Fairy Cafe
“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
Honeysuckle
Wild Honeysuckle
Fair flower, that dost so comely grow, Hid in this silent, dull retreat, Untouched thy honied blossoms blow, Unseen thy little branches greet: No roving foot shall crush thee here, No busy hand provoke a tear. -- Philip Freneau
Hummingbirds hover, long beaks seeking
Trumpets of nectar in a wild blooming hedge.
Honeysuckle, so sweet and fragrant,
Small, shy flowers, perfuming the air.
What magic allows you to bloom early and long,
Leaves first to green and last to wither?
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Reference: http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/wild-honeysuckle
Lilac Longing
Lilac-scented grandmother memories,
How her face lit up when we arrived, tired from hours of driving.
White hair tightly curled and steel cat-eye glasses above her beaming smile.
We walked in Mill Creek Park, enjoying the sun and flowers at Fellows Garden.
My photographs have turned yellow and orange, faded like my memories.
Pink and purple lilac stars shine now as they did then,
Sitting on her warm lap, wrapped in soft arms, hearing flower names.
From her, I learned the names of roses, lilacs, impatiens and daisies.
She taught me to tell time on the face of her nurse’s watch.
I remember when she seemed so tall, and then I grew taller still.
She loved powdering her face, sharing conversation and keeping her home tidy.
She peppered her conversations with the word, “evidently,”
A word gone from fashion, like her name, Dorothy.
I remember how she loved spring flowers and touring gardens.
I still do that every year, and I miss her. Some aches are precious.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Bewitching Haiku
fae iris magicks
sprinkled generously
bewitch passersby
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Forsythia Fairy Path
Forsythia: golden bells curving overhead;
A green path winds through the hedge.
I step under the archway and stop dead.
A forsythia fairy flutters, about to fledge.
The air is filled with crystalline shine,
And a magic gale forces me backward.
I catch a glimpse of the fairy in flight, sublime.
Then the path is empty; my tale fractured.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Charming Ladies Haiku
grand duchesses
charming ladies in waiting
tulips for the queen
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
White Wakerobin: Alliterative Haiku
found in a forest
longing for large, long-tongued bees
tranquil trillium
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This haiku is Alliterative, which means that its words start with the same letter.
Reference: https://gobotany.newenglandwild.org/species/trillium/grandiflorum/
Nature’s Joy for Moms
Plugged into pretty pink,
Powered on, pumped and plumped,
Pleased to hear parties planned.
Just jazzed by joy,
Jumping for color,
Jogging my memory.
Many other happy springs:
Mingled colors and aromas,
Mother’s Day memories.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This post is dedicated to all moms, full-time, part-time, for-all-time moms. Moms near, moms far, moms always in the heart, whatever the name: Mom, Mum, Mam, Mama, Mommy, Step-Mom, Ma, Mamasita, Mother. Please let me know other names for Moms, and I will add them here. Much love to all Moms!!
Happy Mother’s Day to these special moms:
Sue Ann, Fairport, New York (Get Well Soon and come home from the hospital, too!!)
Jessie, Palm Springs, California
Jo Anne, Los Angeles, California
Mary, Bedford, Massachusetts
Cathryn, Burlington, Massachusetts
Julie, Billerica, Massachusetts
Jennie, Billerica, Massachusetts
Mickey, Syracuse, New York
Susan, Fairport, New York
Ellen, Newton, Massachusetts
Donna, Machias, Maine
Elizabeth, or Betty, Matias, New York (and Happy Early Birthday, too!!)
Fairy Fiddlehead Haibun
[Sh]e was a poet; and they are never exactly grown-up.
― J.M. Barrie
Walking in the woods today, I listened for the music of the wind. I heard the crescendo of growing things, and a soft decrescendo of falling magnolia petals. Trees in leaf harmonized with delicious sap running, after a long frozen winter. Squirrel feet danced so fast, they seemed to be touching only clouds. Bees, drunk with plentiful nectar, wobbled in flight. Landing on pear blossoms, the bees turned round as though tumbling down hillsides, spinning, dizzy, buzzy.
stretching straight sunshine-ward
furled fairy fiddlehead,
music makes me merry
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: A haibun is prose followed by poetry, often a haiku. If any of my other haibun-writing friends are parched from a reduction in prompts, feel free to take my picture or the quote as a prompt, and write your own haibun, just please give my name as the photographer. Ping me or leave a comment here, and I will be happy to read it! I don’t know how to do the linky, so I can’t offer that. The quote was originally “He” not “[Sh]e” so it can be either way.
Friendly Fairy Tales 