See Pink

Pink Dogwood blooms, 4 petals each

For anyone in need of a little PINK today!
Is there a fairy hiding behind there? I can’t say. 😉

Dogwood Dizzy

Dogwood blooms, near and far

dogwood fragrance
a cool spring breeze flutters trees
dogwood dizzy

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

White Butterfly Dream

IMG_8884

The white butterfly raises her wings,
Setting sail across the wide Dogwood Sea.
Wind makes the crossing choppy,
White wings jibe and come about,
Alighting nowhere, like a fae albatross.
The cabbage-white butterfly blends —
She could be a dogwood petal
But for her mesmerizing aerial dance.
One tiny egg laid on the underside of a mustard leaf,
Gave birth to her brief but ecstatic life.
Her tiny white wing-sails make of the air an endless ocean.
Oh, to dance with her on the white breakers,
Smelling sweetly of spring rather than salt
With nectar’s spray dampening my skin.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Flash Fiction: Dogwood Manor

Pink dogwood blooms

“No, no, we cannot let in riffraff.” The countess was firm. “No exceptions. We have never taken a transfer student from a white dogwood school, and we never will.”

Petalline’s head drooped, hiding her defiant expression. Her wings fluttered angrily, though.

“We have empty places, my dear, and the young lady has no where else to go. She must go to school here near her Grand-maman.” Baron von Rimple-Dimple had a soft heart, but his sister was used to getting her way.

“Pink Dogwood Manor only takes the most select dogwood fairies. Pink Dogwood Fairies!”

“My dear she has studied at the renowned Paris École des Beaux Arts in the Cornouiller Blanc class. What can be more select than that?”

Petalline the Dogwood Fairy carefully did not meet the eye of the Baron, who was pink-washing her background. Cornouiller Blanc simply meant White Dogwood, but the Baron knew his sister well. Her snobbery was only exceeded by her ignorance of French. She would never admit to not knowing anything.

“Petalline, I am happy to say we have an opening.” The countess gushed, quite overlooking that she had called Petalline “riffraff” only moments before. “You may start your classes tomorrow. Welcome to Pink Dogwood Manor.”

Petalline however, did not forget having been called riffraff. Later that term, when someone turned the entire manor white, only the Baron guessed who was responsible. The Countess merely had hysterics until all the petals were returned to their pink glory. Petalline felt the books had been balanced, and she was a model student thereafter.

 

white dogwood