Fairy Queen’s Parasol

Queen Anne's Lace

The white parasol twirls,
dips and bobs in the
Fairy Queen’s slender hand.

The midsummer sun
dapples her pale cheeks,
gilding her glossy curls.

Beetles play at her feet,
like infants in the grass.
Ruby Columbine drops

petals-tears the
flavor of honey nectar,
tasted beside a wild rose ruin.

Her sisters pass out starry bud cups.
The queen nods her thanks.
The sweet scent combines with

thyme and sage, making the air
alive with color and promise.
The Fairy Queen’s eyes hide

behind the tilt of lace as she
hobnobs with nabobs,
each of them drinking.

None may know
what she’s thinking.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Red Columbine

Fairy King

Tulip Rising

Mantled in green and crimson,
Still stiff with winter’s ice,
Silent Fairy King is courted
By ladies in yellow and white.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham



Note: This poem was inspired by the burgeoning of spring, bolstered by a spring break spent in the garden rather than in DC as planned. I planted pansies, ranunculus, dahlias, elephant ears, butter lettuce, wildfire lettuce and parsley. I noticed the bunnies had nibbled some of my tulips, but they will probably prefer the lettuce. This poem is posted also in honor of Poetry Friday, thanks to No Water River, the picture book and poetry place. If you visit Renee at No Water River, she explains Poetry Friday. I hope you’ll visit her if you like kids poetry.

Poetry Friday with kids

Hidden Island

Arisaig Harbor flowers

The Scottish village of Arisaig was huddled in close between the church and the harbor. Looking out past the ferry dock, islands appeared in and out of the mists that shrouded the Atlantic coastline.

The fairy queen lived lonely on Hidden Island, with only the seals, fish and seagulls for company. Lying on her bed of seaweed, she dreamed of olden days. She remembered when her people danced in the stone circles on the mainland, but long ago she had been exiled by the fairy king. Her heart yearned to see him again. Her husband and king had sent her away because of a terrible misunderstanding. Sometimes, the seals carried small boys to Hidden Island for her, but they always brought them back. This is the story of one of those boys.

Innis was visiting Scotland for the first time with his mother, whose people had left when the lairds ran sheep across their land.

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