Here in the woods,
the light doesn’t quite shine.
In the deeper quiet, I
hear only the wind and
the laughter of leaves.
The sunshine is distant.
Here in the twilight,
I can think my thoughts,
without its brightness,
blinding my eyes.

Note: This poem is part of a longer poem. Is there a place where you can be yourself? Where you can be free, use your outdoor voice, sing or dance or remember?

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

November 13, 2015

Posted under

Poetry

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22 Comments

Willow’s Secret

Combing the willow’s hair
is a wind cold and autumnal.
It twines about soccer players,
and curls into secret places,
places lined with leaves and
cushioned with damp wishes.
Thoughts are birds
zigzagging in branches
alighting on bobbing twigs
in the willow’s bouncy house.
I remember tadpole wiggles,
looking for dangling legs
between the sunspots and
cherry blossoms dotting
the burbling brook.
In that thin suburban wood,
I found a tree too young to climb
and other places I couldn’t follow.
The willow’s house invited with
a knob of bark for a handhold,
a limb wide enough for a teacup.
Its leaves held all the stars
from sundown to sunup.
Now I follow my daughter there,
and the magic hasn’t gone.
Giggles, leaf mold, and secrets
crown the twilight willow world.

Note: Happy Friday the 13th! So close to Halloween, the day has a spooky feel. It set me remembering once, when Friday the 13th fell on Halloween itself. Or am I inventing that? I love to invent things, after all. I hope your memories are playing fun games with you today, too. Hello to all from Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Wee Words for Wee Ones. Kids of all ages are welcome here. Have a magical weekend!

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

September 11, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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54 Comments

Note: I’m sad to report my shoulder requires rotator cuff surgery later this month. I’ll be busy getting my family ready to weather my disability. But I’m going to keep writing posts and visiting your blogs, whenever I can manage it. It might not be my most cheerful fall. 😉

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

June 4, 2015

Posted under

Poetry

Comments

46 Comments

Flying Carpet

A yellow peony takes me
Flying through time
Back to another garden
Another day
In the hot sun
Footsore
Sweating
Hearing water trickle
From a waterwheel
Wanting to plunge into the river
Wanting shade
Wanting water
Wanting my mother.
At least I found shade.

Note: Memories aren’t always cheerful. Sometimes they hurt. Have you ever had an X-ray guided cortisone shot? I had one in my shoulder today, and I’m the girl on fire. So in honor of my shoulder, and its temper tantrum, I watched Hunger Games. At least I’m not in danger of being eaten by wild dogs. Hope your weekend is wonderful. And this post is also my contribution to Poetry Friday, hosted this week at Buffy’s Blog.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

June 27, 2014

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

Comments

56 Comments

Sisters

Sisters, hearts of joy, click of belonging made,
When together, united and unafraid,
Thoughts blooming,
Possibilities looming,
Memories of sharing and love never fade.

Dedicated to my sister, who was taken away from me far too long ago. I miss her every day. And to all my newer sisters, may our sisterhood forever bloom!!

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

September 24, 2013

Posted under

Poetry

Comments

34 Comments

Bloom of Life Haibun

At the suggestion of my friend Jules Paige, I am dipping a toe in the still waters of the haibun, an art form embodied by prose followed by a haiku. The prompt is by Ligo Haibun, and with a choice of two pictures, I chose call2read‘s, and here goes:

Bloom of Life

And so my life unfolded, petal by petal, each memory as silky as a dewy rose petal brushed against my cheek. Shivers of dreams, slivers of thorns, sparkle of moon and stars. As a child, just a bud protected by my thick green casing, I did not always understand adult things. I dreamt of traveling the world, finding friends, eating new foods, learning every day new things. Slowly, my green shield loosened and opened. The days seemed infinite, opening petal by petal. I traveled, I made friends, and I learned every day. Now the rose of my life is fully open to the sun, and summer’s heat has made my soul expand in all directions, drinking in light, energy and warmth from friends, places and memories.

Spark of life sustains,
Creativity expands
Peace, love, joy with friends.