Phenomenal Bloom


The prettiest bloom,
youthful and bright,
doesn’t always
attract the bee.
Honeybees visit the
same purple petals
even after the flowers
are thin and worn.
Is it first love’s kiss?
Or is the sweetest honey
made from
wind-tossed blooms?
The bee should not
be alone in admiring
late summer’s song —
the survivor bloom.
That flower speaks to me
in poetry:
fragrance heady,
curve and wit
and grand.
A Maya Angelou of blooms.
Perhaps my petals
grow thinner each year,
But not my charms.
I have magic still.
As do you.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham


Note: These flowers are wildflowers from Vermont. Can anyone identify them? I couldn’t. Also, this poem references Maya Angelou’s fabulous poem, Phenomenal Woman. A poem that makes me sigh with joy, every time I read it. You don’t need to know where magic comes from, you just need to believe. Have a great weekend!

Bee Magic

Bee on flower

Bee magic,
deft and sure,
never lingering to despair.
Bee light,
zip and zoom,
ignoring all but the nectar.
Bee strong,
tough and enduring,
working nonstop all summer.
Bee safe,
at risk of harm,
you give back more than you take.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: Despite colony collapse disorder, the bees are plentiful in the field. Without them, all of us would be out there with Q-tips, pollinating or perishing. Long live the bee!

Bumblebee, Bumblebee


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

Sunset and the Bee

Sunset on the Pear Bloom

Bees gather nectar, frantic to finish tonight,
Before the ending day’s golden twilight
Has turned into black, stormy night.
The first spring blooms are key
For life of tree
And bee.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: My poem has six lines, with the rhyming pattern, AAABBB, and 12 syllables in the first line, and then decreasing by two syllables per line, until the last line, which has 2 syllables (or: 12, 10, 8, 6, 4, 2). I wanted to use a diminishing syllable count to parallel the dwindling of bees from colony collapse disorder. This poem is similar to a nonet, but the nonet has nine lines, with 9 syllables on the first line, and then it decreases by one syllable per line until the last line, which has one syllable.