Lavender Longing

Bumblebee on lavender

Used with permission of Diary of Dennis

lavender longing
nothing else matters

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.

Purple Panoply (Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Purple)

Purple loosestrife and ducks on river

Purple Loosestrife on the river


Butterfly bush longing for a butterfly


Awash in Asters


Two-purple Irises


Deepest Purple Iris

Note: Cee has called for purple this week. Purple Prose is writing that is unnecessarily flowery or ornate. In honor of my purple post, I will write some purple poetry:

Amethyst petals embrace the bee,
stamen and stigma anoint him
with amber pollen.
The drunken bee flies
bringing back dusty manna of
lush lavender, iris,
loosestrife and pine tree,
into the humming hive
far up in the forest canopy.
Are his eyes still full of
wildflower fields and
purple panoply?
The drone
dances in the honeycomb,
gold dust into honey.
How does the tiny being do it?
What magic knows he
that none of us can see?

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Yellowest Green

Daffodils before blooming

The yellowest green
Is the daffodil,
One day away from
Letting yellow spill.

What makes the flower
Pick that day to bloom?
The sun’s the power!
And it makes bees zoom.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: My van is mobile, my son’s foot is mending and my novel is submitted. Fingers crossed. Maybe my eyes, too. This poem is to celebrate Poetry Friday, and the warm breeze it’s brought into my life, perfumed with rich words. This week is hosted by Robyn Hood Black, thank you!!

Poetry Friday Badge

Spring Magic

 And above all, watch with glittering eyes
the whole world around you because the greatest secrets
are always hidden in the most unlikely places.
Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.

— Roald Dahl (Minpins, 1991)

Robin Egg Shell

Spring will come
With black mud, bees
And crocuses beneath trees.
Baby robins will scatter shells.
Fairies will chant vernal spells.
Birds will sing madrigals at dawn
To wood violets blooming on the lawn.
Foxglove’s speckled trumpets will play
With snowdrops and magnolias in May.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Foxglove in Sunshine


Ours shall be the gypsy winding
Of the path with violets blue, 
Ours at last the wizard finding
Of the land where dreams come true.

— Lucy Maud Montgomery (from Spring Song)

Note: My poem, Spring Magic is a concrete poem, taking the shape of a drooping tulip or possibly a lily of the valley bell as suggested by Matt Forrest Ersenwine. Thanks, Matt! Happy Spring! This post is an ode to Spring in honor of the Vernal Equinox which is at 6:45 p.m. here on March 20, 2015. And a happy coincidence, also in honor of Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Catherine Flynn at Reading to the Core who shared a wonderful original poem for World Folk Tales and Fables Week. I hope you have time to visit her. The photographs were all taken last spring — this year the ground is covered by a knee-deep sea of receding white ice.

Poetry Friday with kids

May Queen

Tulip magnolia

Sad May Queen and her court,
Drenched, washed by rain,
Cold droplets cascade off,
Heavy heads rise when
The torrent ceases, blue sky
Teases, clouds chase the wind.

Then state visits commence,
Foreign dignitaries hasten toward
The still glistening, but elegant
Tulip Magnolia Queen.
Bees kiss her hands, aquiver,
Trembling to touch her perfume.

A sensitive courtier
Drips tears onto the lawn.
Pink petals fall and
Lay like lotus blooms
On a glassy pond, quiet
Except for water dripping.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Full Bloom Tanka


crocus embracing,
offering nectar to bees
tickling, tiny feet

petals dancing with laughter
honey blossoms with flavor

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

NoteTanka is defined in Oak Leak Tanka. Please feel free to add your haiku or tanka here, if you are moved to join in. 🙂 In the past, Japanese poets would alternative haiku (3 lines, 5/7/5 syllables) with two 7/7 lines, playing off each other’s work. It’s fun, if you want to try.