The low, white sky
yields
a first dusting of
snow
and leaves tremble.
Copyright 2021 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
First Dusting
Tag Archives: concrete poetry
Evade Capture
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
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!
Evergreen
If you get simple beauty and naught else,
You get about the best thing God invents.
The
Opposite
Of greening
Must be browning.
Cold settles into fibers
And olive-brown blooms,
Likewise the heart slows,
Older passions fail to flow.
Snow settles on fading green,
Leaves sagging with resignation.
Even the pungent sage withers.
Yet, the possibility of vitality
Withdraws into the roots,
Lingers to bloom again.
But not love – love is
Evergreen.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Grow old with me! The best is yet to be.
— Robert Browning, Sage and Poet
Note: This poem is a concrete poem, about leaves, in the shape of a leaf.
Ode to a Mushroom — Concrete Poetry
Shroom
MushrooM
rising up in the dark,
cap of a wood elf caught
under the trees on a fallen log,
dirty,
damp,
musty
smell,
wiped
clean,
fried in
butter,
divine.
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
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