
call me weed,
say nay, you’re not wanted,
still I’ll rise Continue reading →

call me weed,
say nay, you’re not wanted,
still I’ll rise Continue reading

The world hums with voices
as the warm days fly by,
people in pain
virus numbers climbing
exhausted frontline workers
and protestors in peril.
Continue reading
When one door closes, another opens;
but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door
that we do not see the one which has opened for us.
I’m attending a Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators conference in a few days. I’ve written three children’s books, and SCBWI is an invaluable resource for improving craft and making connections.
molding words like clay
making characters breathe,
dream
When I say I’m writing books, the first question anyone asks me is have I been published. Yes, I’ve been published in the past and recently in on-line zines and on my blog, but their questions really mean has any publishing company paid money to publish my work. Not yet. I’m looking for an agent. Most editors want agented submissions. Agents have become the first gatekeepers. To get through that gate is my immediate goal.
hands on the gate
splintery wood is rough
words can smooth
I wrote “Author” for the first time as my occupation recently. I learned the poet Emily Dickinson was rejected for publication during her lifetime. She was never published until after her death. Was she an author? I would say yes. If she was an author during her life, then I am, too.
To quote Maya Angelou: “Success is liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it.” I am already successful because I love writing novels.
This is a new career for me, and publication will take time. I’m on the path, I have passed through the first door — I believe in myself. Next, I hope to pass through the gate.
words soar like birds
song echoes over lake water
feathers fall, they float
I know many bloggers are on the path with me, and I want to thank all of you for your feedback and your support. My shoulder surgery is a few days after the conference. This may be my last post for a while, as I won’t be able to lift my laptop until my arm is useful again. I will miss all of you in the meantime. Keep writing! XOXO, Brenda
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
The prettiest bloom,
youthful and bright,
doesn’t always
attract the bee.
Honeybees visit the
same purple petals
even after the flowers
are thin and worn.
Is it first love’s kiss?
Or is the sweetest honey
made from
wind-tossed blooms?
The bee should not
be alone in admiring
late summer’s song —
the survivor bloom.
That flower speaks to me
in poetry:
fragrance heady,
curve and wit
shining,
alluring
and grand.
Phenomenal.
A Maya Angelou of blooms.
Perhaps my petals
grow thinner each year,
But not my charms.
I have magic still.
As do you.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: These flowers are wildflowers from Vermont. Can anyone identify them? I couldn’t. Also, this poem references Maya Angelou’s fabulous poem, Phenomenal Woman. A poem that makes me sigh with joy, every time I read it. You don’t need to know where magic comes from, you just need to believe. Have a great weekend!
There are four questions of value in life, Don Octavio.
What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made?
What is worth living for and what is worth dying for?
The answer to each is the same. Only love.

Love is elusive prey,
Love curves and flows
Down lonely love’s path,
Can I find love?
Love’s flower-shaped bell rings:
Love calls to hearts,
Stony in love’s graveyard,
Can love find me?
Love weighs like stone,
Yet, somehow, love floats.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.
— Maya Angelou (from Touched by an Angel)
Note: Perhaps you read and enjoyed my poem. Perhaps you thought, that’s not how I would write about love. Perhaps the quotes have inspired you. Whatever you may have thought, I invite you to please take up your pen or let your fingers dance over the keyboard. I welcome you to join in the Love Challenge, just comment here and give me a link. I will be happy to read your poem.
I dedicate this poem to Marlyn, who invited me to take up the Love Challenge, and gave me these rules (some of which I even followed):