
I woke. I groaned.
I clenched my eyes,
but the sunlight
had no mercy. Continue reading

I woke. I groaned.
I clenched my eyes,
but the sunlight
had no mercy. Continue reading

We’re overcrowded,
we’ve no room, Continue reading
Julie has illustrated the writing journey I am on myself with such beauty and precision (and a FAIRY!) that I asked most humbly to reblog and she agreed. YAY! Have a magical day!
This morning in the vegetable garden, under a canopy of brilliant blue, surrounded by a chorus of jenny wrens, bluebirds, and song sparrows, I planted miracles. As I dropped the tiny, almost imperceptible, seeds into the soil, I was confident they would eventually transform, by some mysterious miracle, into crunchy lettuce.
Many of you think I live a Tasha Tudor life. You imagine me tucked away in paradise, snapping photographs, or writing, amidst birdsong . . .

and blooms.

And in many ways, you are right. On a good day, that is just what I do.

But there is much about writing that goes unseen. When I began pursuing publication, I assumed my experience entertaining children through my hobby, marionette theater, would quickly guarantee my success.
A few of my handmade marionettes– proof of my creativity.
3+ years and 41!! rejections later, I know better.
Writing is not for the weak of heart…
View original post 142 more words

For anyone in need of a little PINK today!
Is there a fairy hiding behind there? I can’t say. 😉

sudden magic of
honeysuckle scent takes me
back to hide-and-seek
beside winding brook
glimmer of tadpoles
tiny almost-legs dangle
my inner child is
still ready to hide and seek
ready or not!
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: These three haiku are in answer to Ronovan’s Weekly Haiku Challenge: Magic and Glimmer. How could I resist writing something? Can you?
I was also inspired by Annette Rochelle Aben’s ballet poem to look into my own past for inspiration.
In writing haiku, I don’t follow a strict 5/7/5 syllable count. I view that more as a maximum rather than a goal. My goal is instead to record a moment of realization or wonder.

dogwood fragrance
a cool spring breeze flutters trees
dogwood dizzy
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
thoughts like thorns
underfoot
step cautious
even flowers
have dreams Continue reading

What’s under it all?
What secret rivers flow
through
dark cave systems,
home to blind fish,
white like the moon,
the color of wishing?
Where lie the bones
of the very last dinosaur Continue reading

Laid
bare,
barren,
broken down,
but pieces form art.
Driftwood rises above its end
forming a bird of legend with magical power,
spinning ashes to art, renewing the forlorn and forgotten, even transcending.
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: This is a Fibonacci Poem (0r “fib” for short). Each succeeding line is equal in syllable length to the total syllables in the preceding two lines, or: one, one, two, three, five, eight, thirteen, twenty-one, thirty-four, etc. I’ve written two other fibs, Star Fairy and Fairy Ball.
This poem will be my weekly Poetry Friday tiddly-wink of word play. Thanks Violet Nesdoly for hosting and posting that moving photo and poem about forest fires. My heart goes out to the people of Fort McMurray, Canada. And to the wildlife equally homeless. May everyone have a safe and magical weekend. Warmly, Brenda

Take a fairy tale journey Down Under with artist, writer and photographer Suzanne at Art and Life. Where is this enchanted forest? What do people leave for the fairies?

roses of springtime
wide ball skirts for fairies
who dance on clouds
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Happy Mother’s Day! I hope your day was full of warmth and love. 🙂
Music, magic, gorgeous photos, moving words, this post has it all and more. Antilandscaper is terrific!
Hold Still
Stand in silence
Listen to the musical notes
As the first rays
Of the sun
Touch the sky
Unfolds a day
As the night’s dew
Descends to the ground

Light dances
In color and shadow
With each moment
Until it fades
Beyond the horizon

Night skies
Star light
Light from beyond time
Beyond our imagination
All notes of a symphony

Not to orchestrate
Just to listen

Move softly
With all that is around
Of day or night
To dance in the light
