Bare branches are stripped
By wind and rain,
Saffron leaves
Reveal:
Bloom.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: The syllable of this poem dwindle, just as the leaves fall.
Gossamer Milkweed Etheree
Pods
Look like
Green gators,
Snapping at air,
Hungry mouths open,
Toothy grin spilling silk:
Brownies harvest, spin and weave
Gossamer Fairy Court dresses.
Milkweed’s a Monarch butterfly house:
Holds eggs and feeds baby caterpillars.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This poem is an etheree, a form that starts with one syllable on the first line and increases to 10, one syllable per line.
Autumn Ouch!
Brrr, when the wind blows,
Burrs in the dog’s paws,
Burrs on the backside.
Little stingers clinging,
Beware of sitting
After a woodland tromp.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Tree Bling
When the trees bling
And the colors zing,
Joy is on an upswing.
My heart begins to sing,
My spirit takes wing,
Dancing a highland fling
As if I’m in a fairy ring.
Note: This weekend is Columbus Day Weekend here in New England. We harvest apples, press cider and hike in the woods. The holiday is controversial. In 1492, Columbus sailed the blue. Some claim he “discovered” America, but others argue he came rather late to the party. Asians had crossed the land bridge thousands of years before 1492, and millions already lived in the Americas. Viking and Chinese explorers had already beaten him to the Americas by sea as well. That’s water under the bridge now, and my family has been settled here for hundreds of years. When the leaves change, I am extra-thankful to be here, as magic reveals the luminous color underlying the green. The riverside becomes a place of otherworldly beauty. Whether or not you celebrate Columbus Day as a day of discovery, I hope you discover magic in the world today. It’s there every day, whether or not we recognize it.
Pure Pink Pleasure
Magic is in the color,
The pure pleasure of light
Hitting flower petals,
Then arcing across to me.
Pink makes me feel peaceful,
A magic balm to my spirit.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: A pink orchid symbolizes pure affection, and pure affection is what I have for fairy tale lovers everywhere! This poem is dedicated to Michelle Marie and Jeanne Marie, the Queens of Pink, and to all the lovers of fairy tales everywhere.
Journey of the Rainbow Leaf
Citrine, amber, sage, russet, claret,
Green of tree and brown of earth:
Every autumn shade gleams
Between its yellow veins.
Tiny fairies ride wind swells on it:
A magic carpet to buzz bushes and skim ponds.
Three baby hedgehogs with shivering quills
Hide beneath it, from a cold rain.
Then it’s sewn into a cape for the Harvest Queen,
She of the forest and glen,
It swirls like an autumn rainbow.
Its folds flash between dancing courtiers,
As all the fairies make merry.
Soon the bitter winds will blow.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Sycamore Lace
Crazy-quilt Sycamore tree,
One leaf, no longer perfect.
Yet the leaf shines with green,
Making oxygen for me,
And sweet sugar sap,
Flowing slowly into the tree.
The leaf scars show a beetle’s feast,
But those same imperfections
Are where the light shines through.
Note: I am often reminded of my own imperfections, my scars and my secret sins. I accept these things about myself as I accept them in the ones I love. I wrote once before about finding beauty in scars, a post called Beauty in the Broken Places. Today, Line and I were talking about imperfection and perfection being like two sides of a spinning coin, always rotating between the two.
Thistle Bristle
Round purple hedgehogs
Rise above a bed of green thistle;
Bees circle them like moons,
Dodging spines that bristle.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This flower is Globe Thistle (Echinops ritro). The bees were too quick for me, none lingered to become famous on my blog. 🙂
Get Your Orange On
Happy October First!
Mornings are dark, wet and gloomy.
The time has come to fear the Worst!!
The veil separating us from the grave
Is thinning and opening windows and doors.
Before the thirty-first, decide who you will save!
Children will turn into Monsters, Heros, Bats,
Witches, Pumpkins and Spirits from Beyond!
Get your orange on and watch out for black cats…
Halloween is coming!
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This was inspired by Autumn, the changing leaves and the Spooky Writing Contest. Enter if you dare! If you want to see my contribution from last year, it was Halloween Scene Haiku. Other themed writing: Spellbook Haibun and Crankypot Halloween.
A Pine Tree Wakes
When I wake from my long dreaming,
I first look up at the sky.
Far above me, magic dances in white clouds.
Mother Oak holds me fast, in her roots.
Poetry is the movement of her leaves.
Far below me, the river sings its longing for the sea.
Rivulets sink toward the secret aqueduct far below,
The dark, watery womb of all life.
Some droplets rise to adorn cloud castles.
Singing waters plunge over falls,
Scenting the embrace of Lake Ontario.
Flocks of starlings bank and turn.
Wildflowers thirst, drink the spray,
And tremble on the cliffs.
The leaves feel the passing of the season,
As the water does not. As I do not.
We are constant, the water and the pine.
I hold fast to my cliff; I sink back into my dreams.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: These photographs were taken at Letchworth State Park, where the Genesee River has carved a deep canyon in its headlong rush to join Lake Ontario, the Easternmost Great Lake, that lies between the US and Canada.
Ocean Magic
A taste of blue sea magic from Wanderlust should make your blood pressure drop, your happiness quotient rise and your sense of well-being double. Have a great week ahead and lots of magic, Brenda
From the moment I lay eyes on it…
Until the the moment I leave.
The ocean always works its magic.
With its vast and endless horizon
With its gentle and soothing rhythms
With its tumultuous wildness
With its healing serenity
With its ancient wisdom
And its magnificent grandeur
The allure of the ocean has no boundaries.
Its magic is there for everyone…
to experience, to feel, to embrace.
Sunflower Shining
Sun shines so bright,
She bows her head and squints.
As the summer fades,
Her petals wilt a bit, but
She is still aflame with color.
Sunflower drowses and dreams
Of golden days past.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
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