trembling
cherry petals in sunshine,
my mother’s warmth
Copyright 2021 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
Remembering in April
Tag Archives: cherry blossom
Spring Breezes
Cherry trees dream of
nests hidden by blossoms,
the hum of baby bluebirds
soft on grass and feather, Continue reading
Happy Memorial Day
But now they lie low,
While over them the swallows skim,
And all is hushed at Shiloh.
And all is hushed at Shiloh.
— Herman Melville, from his moving civil war poem, Shiloh: A Requiem (April, 1862)
Fragrance Fandango
cherry-petal pink
lilacs tease green hearts,
kissing and telling Continue reading
Cherry Blossoms for Mother’s Day
Our oldest love, our first love,
Unfolds with our own birth,
Grows as we take our first steps.
The love that makes us children again.
We love you, Mom!
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Flash Fiction: River Romance
The sun was setting, cherry blossoms perfumed the air, and Esme’s handsome boyfriend, Al, paddled at her side. His fine, green Mallard head feathers looked purple in the waning sunlight. She nibbled on bulrushes.
Nosy daffodils crowded round taking selfies. You’d think it was an award ceremony.
Esme would let nothing lessen the magic of the evening. There on the riverfront, she and Al sipped water laden with tasty seeds. The silvery twilight faded, and fairies flickered like fireflies. Al offered Esme a tasty tuber under the Three Birches. She sighed with pleasure.
Al raised his wings and drummed the water from happiness. Together they swam figures eights, intertwining their wakes, visible ripples of pleasure. Before Esme returned to her family’s nest on the far bank, her beak brushed Al’s farewell. A door had opened in her heart, perhaps Al would pass through one day.
sun sets on longings
solitary triangle of ripples
rushes bend in winds
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This is my farewell haibun dedicated to Al, but it’s fictional, so I called it a flash fiction in the title. Al has run the weekly Haibun Thinking prompt, which sadly has ended. I hope you don’t mind me making free with your moniker, Al! I am a bit late with my entry, but I was preparing for and attending a writer’s conference. I have to scale back my blogging in May. I will be rewriting my children’s chapter book. Wish me luck! My plan is to blog in the evenings if I have any energy. 🙂
References:
http://diet.yukozimo.com/what-do-mallard-ducks-eat/
http://www.ask.com/question/what-do-mallard-ducks-eat
Ideas Blossom at Writer’s Conference
Ideas blossom with a sweet fragrance,
Opening wider with rhythmic cadence,
Each part of nature has its special time,
Thoughts spring musically into joyful rhyme.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Here is some pink for ThinkingPink. This weekend, I am away at the New England Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators spring conference. Ideas are flowing, and I’m jazzed and inspired. If you aren’t a member of a writing organization and you have not yet been to a writer’s conference, I hope you’ll consider it. Not that WP isn’t great, but meeting people in person is powerful, too. I’ll be back next week, and hoping to catch up with everybody!
Cherry Intoxication
Drunk with cherry blossom aroma,
The tiniest fairy weaves a crooked path,
Skating down pink branches and
Leaping petal to petal, wings beating happily.
The pollen coats her so thickly,
The bees start to pursue her.
She shimmers into her other form.
A pale white butterfly flutters
Where once a tiny girl with wings flew.
The bees give up the chase,
Turnings back to the cherry blooms,
Here for such a short time.
Erratically, the fae-butterfly flies,
Lighting finally on a juniper bush.
She changes back to a young girl,
Sipping nectar from the blue dew-cones.
Her transparent wings flitter, flutter.
Then on into spring she adventures.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Dreaming in Cherry Blossoms
Rain patters on the roof,
While the cardinal calls:
“Birdie, birdie, birdie, birdie.”
My eyes drift closed, heavy
With disappointment at the cold,
Wet spring and the absent sun.
Azaleas flame in raspberry bursts.
The weeping cherry cries amber tears
Of swollen pollen from pale pink blossoms,
Sunshine heats the wet sidewalk,
And it breathes steamy sighs.
A mist curls up toward the blossoms.
In my dream, my two arms multiply,
Turning to wings, to feathers, to thin limbs:
To an infant, a new weeping cherry.
My long arms tremble in air currents.
The cardinal lands on my highest shoulder
Calling “Birdie, birdie,” red crest proud.
I hear again the sound of the rain,
My dry roots yearn toward the nectar
Shared by clouds, whispering of oceans.
I awake stretching my legs,
Moving freely, but stiff and cold;
Blossoms, an afterimage, on my closed eyes.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Inspired by Michelle Marie, who was longing to see cherry blossoms.
These photographs are from last spring.
Friendly Fairy Tales 