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April 14, 2015

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Fairy Squill

Salutations small Siberian Squill,
Rising from the icy dregs of a hill.
Bowing in breezes on a fairy mound,
Its still shadow doesn’t make any sound.
After Lady Winter’s chill ermine shroud,
Its azure beauty makes me sing out loud.

Note: This drooping blue beauty is Scilla siberica, one of the earliest blooming bulbs. I apologize for not having time to comment on posts this week. My van is in the shop, my middle child is on crutches, my novel deadline is looming and I’m nowhere near done. My kids will soon be on spring break. If only I had more time, or more brains or more hands. Something. Meanwhile, at least there’s magic! Hope you have a great week! Warmly, Brenda

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Brenda Davis Harsham

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April 9, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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60 Comments

Spring a ling!

Spring a ling!
Hear spring sing;
Flower bells ring:
Spring a ling!
Spring a ling!
Spring a ling!

Note: We’re hearing it! A few days above 50 and a vast flood of snow melt is all the encouragement these little hardy crocuses needed. My lucky neighbor already has blooms. I hope you’re enjoying National Poetry Month. I am participating in Poetry Friday, organized by Kidlitosphere Central and hosted this week by Laura Purdie Salas at Writing the World for Kids. She has lots of great tips for reading poetry to kids.

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Brenda Davis Harsham

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March 19, 2015

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Holiday, Photography, Poetry

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55 Comments

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.

snowdrops

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.

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Brenda Davis Harsham

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March 18, 2015

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Photography

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16 Comments

Wordless Song of Seasons

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Brenda Davis Harsham

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March 8, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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39 Comments

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.

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!

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

February 4, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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45 Comments

Flowers Bright

Petals dizzy
Curled,
Whirled,
Flowers budded,
Tightly furled.

Petals soft as silk,
Aromas sing,
Memories of bees —
Brought to my knees,
Longing for spring.

Note: This is dedicated to florists and flowers growers everywhere, who give those of us in snow clogged Northern states the illusion of spring for a few moments of zing. I’m not going to be on-line much for about a week. I’ll be out of town at a children’s writer’s conference. 🙂 Have a great week!

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

January 23, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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80 Comments

On Ice

held in my petals
memories of last summer
slumber here on ice

Note: This haiku is my contribution to a long-standing meme, Poetry Friday, which is organized by Kidlitosphere Central and hosted by various bloggers, around the web. I am very excited to participate for the first time. This week you can visit A Teaching Life and see links to the poetry. Some of my friends write kids poetry. If you do, you should check this out. They publish anthologies of the Poetry Friday offerings periodically, and I have it on good authority that they actually PAY for the use of the poem!!! LOL What a concept! (Okay, it’s not going to make me rich, but hey, a dinner out… maybe.)

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

January 3, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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48 Comments

Snow White Seeds

Winter Queen Snow-White,
Reigning over gardens past,
Spreading seeds near and far:
Tiny spin-drift wind-sailing
Sprites, tiny bits of last year,
Carried through cold to the next,
Come fill my garden with purple,
Amber and russet possibility.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 18, 2014

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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46 Comments

Crowned Cats

Echinacea seedpods,
Ruffled and out of sorts,
With your cat faces,
Squashed by snowy caps.
Snow is still thin,
Yet will come thicker soon.
Eventually you will win,
Another spring will come.
Your roots will labor and birth a
New crop of seed pods,
Born to wear snowy crowns.
So the seasons go around.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 4, 2014

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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37 Comments

Party with the Late Blooms

Autumn is under way
Come party with the late blooms
Dance till Jack Frost comes

Note: Despite having snow flurries on Sunday, we still have blooms here and there. This poem is a haiku, with five, seven and five syllables on each line.

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

October 9, 2014

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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50 Comments

Pure Pink Pleasure

Magic is in the color,
The pure pleasure of light
Hitting flower petals,
Then arcing across to me.
Pink makes me feel peaceful,
A magic balm to my spirit.

Note: A pink orchid symbolizes pure affection, and pure affection is what I have for fairy tale lovers everywhere! This poem is dedicated to Michelle Marie and Jeanne Marie, the Queens of Pink, and to all the lovers of fairy tales everywhere.