Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 23, 2013

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59 Comments

Red Mushroom Mansion

Used Courtesy of Postaldeliveries

Maybelle had often admired the red mushrooms mansions, where she imagined only the very luckiest of fae could live. She liked to imagine the quiet with only a few neighbors. She had been living in a fungus highrise since she was born, surrounded by constant noise and banter.

Sylphanya, her sprite-mother, was hardly ever home and wanted different things than Maybelle. Her mother cared only for painting autumn leaves whereas Maybelle was drawn to water blossoms. Her mother seemed to like having a hundred neighbors, singing out happy hellos to everyone.

Maybelle knew the other fae-children thought she was a bit odd. Her near-neighbor Jamus called her a loner that morning because she hardly ever joined him and his sister, Dolpha, for nectar in the berry bar.

Maybelle was sad all day, not even the rainbow tints of a new lotus bloom cheered her. Maybelle decided to find her mother. Continue reading →

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 21, 2013

Posted under

Poetry

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57 Comments

Transformation Haiku

leaves nearly all down
limbs catch stars like fireflies
ermine cloak coming

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 20, 2013

Posted under

By&4Kids, Tales for Kids of All Ages

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40 Comments

Swinging

We need to hear young voices. I hope you enjoy this view of the world from a very young voice.

A Poem by A.H., age 4

When I’m swinging,
I’m bigger than Mommy and Daddy.
I’m bigger than the trees.
I’m bigger than the wood chips
And the playground.
I’m bigger than everything.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 18, 2013

Posted under

Poetry

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41 Comments

Icy Leaf Haiku

Too early for ice!
Breath comes in steam engine puffs
Leaf caught by winter

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 17, 2013

Posted under

Poetry

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29 Comments

Business Trip Haiku

goodbye jet airplane
carrying Daddy away
come back, come back soon

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 16, 2013

Posted under

Poetry

Comments

53 Comments

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

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.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 14, 2013

Posted under

Poetry

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54 Comments

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.

Note: This poem is an Etheree, starting with one syllable on the first line and increasing to ten, one syllable per line.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 12, 2013

Posted under

Poetry

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25 Comments

Morning Haiku

Blinding warm sun peeks
Autumn fire on high branches
Citrine cloud castle

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 11, 2013

Posted under

Holiday, Poetry

Comments

35 Comments

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.

Note: Photographs are of my parents,
before they married, long before I was born,
when they both served their country.
(I love you!!)

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 11, 2013

Posted under

Fairy Tale for Boys, Tales for Kids of All Ages, Young Fairy Tale

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13 Comments

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

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 11, 2013

Posted under

Poetry

Comments

42 Comments

Urban Cobweb Haiku

trolley spider-bus
crawls into the sunset
leaving cobweb tracks

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 9, 2013

Posted under

Poetry

Comments

54 Comments

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

Prepared for the weekly ligo haibun challenge, the prompt this week being faery, which I could not resist! 🙂