goodbye jet airplane
carrying Daddy away
come back, come back soon
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Tag Archives: friendly fairy tale
Seasons of the Sun Haībun
When the summer sun shines, blinding me with its full radiance, the pleasure is painfully exquisite. If I bask too long, my sunburn is a long, slow torment, my body retaining the summer’s heat for days. Yet that same hot summer sun provides the energy for all the food we eat, makes the world a vibrant beautiful place.
hot reckless summer
sun provides food for tree leaves
blessed saving shade
In the autumn, the sun’s strength has diminished, and its power to blind and burn has faded with the earth’s turning. The leaves mourn with me, turning all the colors of the earth from the loss of that unrelenting brilliance. A cool morning is made a delight, sitting by the lake, soaking up the remaining heat, with no fear of sunburn.
a bench in the sun
light glints on still lake water
sun warms cold morning
Fall warmth has to last through the dark days of winter, when the sky can turn gray with snow for days in a row. The weak winter sun cannot burn through snow clouds, and instead sends a diffuse light leaking through. After the clouds break, the fresh fallen snow can magnify the sunlight into a thousand knives, piercing my eyes with a painful overload. Crossing a field after a snowfall, the light forces my eyes to thin slits, tears seeping and freezing on my cheeks.
boots sink in new snow
icy wind curls under scarf
eyes shut from white fire
Spring finds moderation again, without the piercing light reflected by the winter white, without the intense burning of the summer sun. The whole world bursts forth in bloom, bulbs shooting forth their starbursts of color and myself shedding clothing layers. Spring sunlight is an invitation, a benediction, a renewing from the universe.
starshine gently falls
magic balm to the cold earth
life springs up dancing
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This post was inspired by the Ligo Haībun challenge by Ese, who offered a Mexican proverb: It is not enough to know how to ride – you must also know how to fall. This proverb reminded me of autumn, the leaves falling after a summer of riding the sunshine; life in its eternal circle; the earth circling; the sun in its seasons.
Golden Path Etheree
Leaf
Falling,
Citrine dream.
Windy swirling,
Gold honey blizzard,
Swirls of a fairy’s cloak.
Restless spirits soar higher
With each dancing leaf falling down
To the shifting, shadowy hemline.
Surfeit of beauty looking at fall’s gown.
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This poem is an Etheree, starting with one syllable on the first line and increasing to ten, one syllable per line.
Morning Haiku
Blinding warm sun peeks
Autumn fire on high branches
Citrine cloud castle
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Salute to the Veterans Haiku
idealistic
serving their country with pride
believing in us
Whether your words are many or few,
say hello to the ones nearest you.
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Photographs are of my parents,
before they married, long before I was born,
when they both served their country.
(I love you!!)
Published Fairy Tale, Part 2
On October 22, Friendly Fairy Tales announced the publication of a new, previously-unpublished story, The Day the Dragon Flew up the Chimney, on The Paperbook Collective October 2013 Issue 3.
Click to read Part 1. As promised, here is the Final Part:
Henry decided he’d better keep an eye on the dragon, so he followed it closely. The dragon was flitting from chair leg to chair leg. He would hop up onto chair arms or tables and eat the food right off people’s plates and drink the tea right out of people’s cups. Everyone was so busy talking that no one noticed a thing.
Then the miller’s wife reached for one of her cookies, only to find that it had disappeared. “That’s odd,” she said.
“Miss Miller, Ma’am,” said Henry. “A dragon has eaten your cookies.” Meanwhile the dragon had moved on to Phileas Farmer’s plate.
“Henry!” scolded his mother. “Stop telling fibs and don’t filch people’s cookies. Now for the last time, go and play. Honestly.”
“But Mama,” protested Henry. Sadly, his mother just shook her head at him and waggled her finger. If his mother wouldn’t believe him, who would? Henry watched as the tiny dragon plundered the room of its teacakes, its cookies, its biscuits and its tea with cream. A hum of conversation arose as more and more villagers were puzzled to discover empty plates and cups. Henry wondered how such a tiny dragon could eat so much.
Then the dragon had the temerity to steal from his father’s plate, and that was more than Henry could bear. “Daddy, Daddy,” cried Henry. “The dragon is stealing your biscuits!” The whole room stopped to stare at Henry. Henry’s father seemed very embarrassed.
“Henry, I told you not to fib!” cried his mother, standing up.
“But I’m not!” Henry replied.
“Then where is the dragon,” asked the mayor with one last laugh. Henry pointed at the hearth where the dragon perched, fickety-mickety finishing up the last chocolate from the plate of Mrs. Farmer. The fire had died down a little, but he was still clearly visible against the glow.
When the dragon noticed everyone staring at him, he gulped down the cookie and flew straight up the chimney.
Everyone gave a gasp, and the mayor and several aldermen raced over to try to look up the chimney. No one could see anything for the fire and the smoke.
Henry’s mother and father came and gave him hugs and apologized for doubting him. The villagers all patted his shoulders and told him how brave he had been. He was the village hero thereafter. And when Henry grew up, they elected him mayor. To this day they tell stories of the day the dragon flew up the chimney.
THE END
Copyright Brenda Davis Harsham April 1, 2005
Urban Cobweb Haiku
trolley spider-bus
crawls into the sunset
leaving cobweb tracks
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Pear Tree HaĪbun
I have planted hundreds of vegetables, herbs, flowers, bulbs and shrubs in my years of gardening, but very few trees. Last year, I planted one tree for each of my three children in our yard where we could watch them grow. We tended them carefully, watering them during the long, hot months. This spring, our young pear tree was covered in white blooms, like a bride on her wedding day. All those white blooms dropped away in days, covering the ground like a veil, before they blew away on the wind, and became part of the earth again.
white blossoms drifting
petals falling to the earth
nourishing our soil
The heart-shaped leaves budded and turned emerald green soon after. Our tree produced oxygen and shade all summer long, and it grew a few inches in height and width every month of the summer. Today, I could see that several hard frosts had taken their toll. The leaves had turned a rainbow of colors: yellow, orange, red, purple with darker spots of indigo. A closer view revealed small brown fruit only as big as my fingernail. Even the squirrels have not harvested these vestigial pear, although the squirrels were pleased to eat our jack o’lanterns.
Halloween is past
squirrels have nibbled their repast
pumpkins are tasty
We would rather eat pumpkin than those tiny, rudimentary pear treats, too. Only a faery could love those tiny vestigial pears. I hope the fae harvest them, and serve them at a harvest dance, perhaps taking the leaves to make splendid gowns. I like to imagine them squeezing the pear juice into an acorn cup and drinking the nectar under the twinkling stars while the pipers play a reel.
faeries dance and smile
starlight washing cares away
sipping pear nectar
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Prepared for the weekly ligo haibun challenge, the prompt this week being faery, which I could not resist! 🙂
Fairy Candles In The Sky!
Elephant’s Picture Book is saving many gorgeous illustrations, and making them available to us on-line! This one is a friendly fairy tale, but to find many others, visit her site. I hope you enjoy it. Have a great weekend! Brenda
The Candle-Lighters
When shadows creep at eventide
And little ones are safe inside,
Bright stars a-twinkling way up high
Are Fairies’ candles in the sky.
When shadows creep at eventide
The Fairies take their evening ride;
On flitting fireflies wafted high
They light their candles in the sky.
A Year With the Fairies.
Written by Anna M. Scott.
Illustrations by M. T. (Penny) Ross.
P. F. Volland & Co.: Chicago, U.S.A. 1914.
Care to Dance?
Released from my anchor, skittering adrift,
Where the wind takes me, I stop and listen.
A kneeling player, skilled fingers quicken on the drum.
Mallets hit a marimba in six eight time.
Two instrument emit an intertwining wave creation.
I cannot keep still with so much magical precise pounding,
Finding echoes in my inner dreamscape, awakening.
Impulse to dance hits me, no defense needed.
Arms outstretched, fists clenched,
Toes pointed, tap, tapping in rhythm.
Mind’s a whirl, I’m breathing, spinning.
Dancing jig time, whole mind, to music faster.
Invisible whisperings from resonating strings within
My body is limber and loose, infinite sinews singing.
No distance now between me and the music.
Whisperings, soundings, plumbing depths of movement.
No longer carried by the wind, instead every part moving to sing.
Movement become music and music movement.
This was my first Sunday Whirl, done rather late, but better late than never! 😉
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Smokebush in the Fall
Raspberry leaves dance on a chilly breeze.
Kissed by cold stardust, the violet-edged leaves
Outshine the fading summer’s flowers.
Luminous leafy ovals welcome the coming sleep.
Life force gathers into the stems, retreating root deep
And no cold winter can extinguish its secret powers.
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Starry Tree Haiku
Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
— Don McLean, from Starry, Starry Night
(describing Van Gogh’s painting)
November night,
Incandescent, magic sight,
Transcendent with light.
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Friendly Fairy Tales 