Tears fall from dark clouds,
spit spatter splash!
Thunder rip roars!
Wipers swish swash!
Fog swirls on the mountainside
then descends like ghostly legions.
Blue mountains disappear
behind a blurry sky.
Whoosh,
the car emerges
into sunshine.
Only the leaves prove
the rain danced.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
sugar sweet fragrance
berries form beside blooms
even bears hunger
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Hungry plants stretch
toward the dwindling light
along Kancamagus Highway,
a tongue-tying, twisting
New Hampshire byway.
The setting sun gilds
wildflower meadows.
The air is crisp and cold.
Birds and squirrels nest;
mosquitoes buzz and
dodge dragonflies.
Beetles scurry for rocks
and porcupines waddle
through ferns, quills tucked.
A stork pauses in the shallow river
alongside the cars, eying the current.
The water is aflame with sunset,
in shades of rose, umber and carmine.
Pine scent intermingles with
blooming goldenrod and early asters.
Blue mountains fade to gray.
Tomorrow is another day.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Light moves and
shadows turn cartwheels
in a dappled glade.
A shadow might be
anything,
squirrel, gopher,
dog, deer or sprite.
Or the absence of
someone dear.
A dappled glade
can contain
anything at all,
or everything.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Seeds sown wide
scatter color to the wind.
July is hothouse
blooms and wildflowers:
Coreopsis gold,
Cosmos pink and purple,
Day lilies and moonflowers.
Bees, flown off their knees,
crumble dust to honey.
On that perfumed air,
dreams ride Scotch Broom,
trip on witch hobble
and snatch blueberries.
Bee balm bursts into fireworks.
Dragons doze in glades,
and little boys whistle up storms.
Thunder rides stallions
behind black clouds.
Summer is a fairy tale,
wild and free.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
This post is part of Poetry Friday, this week hosted thanks to Keri Recommends.
I hope you will love LeafandTwig as much as I do. Always beautiful images paired with insightful, uplifting words. For any who don’t already know and appreciate her, here is a lovely haiku and photo. XOXO
River rambles and curves,
shallow then deep,
rocky or smooth,
changeable as the weather.
Under the bridge are dark places,
deep pools with hidden depths.
The biggest fish hide there.
Aquatic plants sway
in the current, roots unseen.
The burbling water
covers whispers made, but
sounds echo above,
in the dim covered bridge,
where magic dwells.
Gossamer webs hold fast
lingering traces of lovers past.
Children, clapping hands
and believing in fairies,
once danced here.
Their shadows remain
sweetening the breezes.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: These photographs were taken in New Hampshire in the White Mountains.
Bugs may nibble,
and the rain drizzle,
but my color flares
for you.
Heat may wilt,
or age bring a droop,
but my petals widen
for you.
Your smile holds the sun;
your scent perfumes the air.
Always I dream
of you.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Here is magic, just in light. Morgan has gathered together a golden grouping that look like a fairy tale. Have a great week!
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~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photographs found on facebook.com/pages/BEAUTIFUL-PLANET-EARTH/198320350202343 Credit Acknowledged to the Original Photographers. Thank you!
Used with permission of Diary of Dennis
lavender longing
nothing else matters
ahhhh
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Thanks to Dennis for letting me use this photograph of his — it inspired my haiku. Please visit him for advice on photographing insects, which was above my head. If my iPhone can’t do it, I’m out of luck.
Bianca Belle knew full well:
A Belle wears white, plain and bright,
To her first ball within fairy Hall.
She wanted to rebel, shh, don’t tell!
She fought, ignoring all she’d been taught,
And did her own thing, finding her inner bling.
She added orange beads, like tiny seeds,
Dangling on citrine fringe: a wild color binge.
Bianca was one in a million at the cotillion.
She set a new trend by refusing to bend
To her parent’s tradition, creating a mission
Of being unique, true to herself, bold and chic.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Here is a lovely photo by LavenderMoonGirl that reminds me of Butterfly bushes and make me long to be a hungry butterfly. And then the poem makes my butterfly heart sing. I hope the magic finds you this week.
Pyramidal Orchids
Like Amethyst torches,
Glimmering high in
The chalk passes,
Where shimmering faeries
Dance to the sound
Of lyrical Skylarks.
I love these beautiful wild orchids (Anacamptis pyramidalis). On our walks it is often difficult not to walk on them! These little magical torches of the fairy world are scattered over the chalky downs of the Chiltern hills.
Friendly Fairy Tales 