As night flees down dark paths
from the early light,
dreams scatter into
deadening fog.
The breathing air carries stories
of foreign pain
and domestic infighting
that will scream from our
headlines by noon. Bar the door. Continue reading
Tag Archives: concrete poem
Spring Angel
softer
snowfall
in April
a winged angelic and feathery stillness
heralds divine music from above
the icy confection
reminds of protection
brings a sense of peace
contemplating movement
making art turn into magic while
overhead fly Canada geese
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
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)
Drip,
Rain
Drop
Plops,
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
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.
Calla Curl
Pink
Twirl,
Calla curl,
Silky swirl.
Snow may hide
New England’s color,
But trucked-in treasure
Startles and entrances,
My heart dances —
A wild whirl.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes:
On the poem: This is a concrete or shape poem, meant in this case to take the shape of a calla lily.
On the weather: We’ve had one day of sunshine, with temperatures above freezing. Old Man Winter is not gone, but at least he’s growing sleepy. The Calla Lilies are from Trader Joe’s, where the floral section is a summer garden. Here is a picture better reflecting what it still looks like outdoors here:
On Poetry Friday: super-late this week, but life gets in the way at times. Thanks to Robyn Campbell, Kids Author and Poet, for hosting!
Happy Solstice!
Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale.
— Hans Christian Anderson
Bare
Trees yearn.
Setting sun
Whispers farewell.
Fall sleeps and winter stirs.
Winter Solstice parties
Shine fairy lights on all who dance
And sing.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This poem is a concrete poem. The poem takes a shape related to its subject matter. The Christmas Tree tradition is a lovely way to celebrate the longest night, with lots of twinkling lights, inside and out. Historically, pagans and pre-Christians decorated at midwinter with evergreen boughs. Decorating a tree became a popular Christian tradition in Germany in the 1800’s. Queen Victoria and her German husband, Prince Albert, later made tree decorating popular throughout the world.
The Winter Solstice in my neck of the woods is Sunday, December 21, 2014, 6:03 p.m. EST. North of the arctic, you get no sun at all, and south of the Antarctic Circle, they have the Midnight Sun, or 24 hours of sunlight. Either place is too cold for me. I’ll take my 4 p.m. sunset.
Friendly Fairy Tales 