sugar sweet fragrance
berries form beside blooms
even bears hunger
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Tag Archives: nature
White Mountain Sunset
Hungry plants stretch
toward the dwindling light
along Kancamagus Highway,
a tongue-tying, twisting
New Hampshire byway.
The setting sun gilds
wildflower meadows.
The air is crisp and cold.
Birds and squirrels nest;
mosquitoes buzz and
dodge dragonflies.
Beetles scurry for rocks
and porcupines waddle
through ferns, quills tucked.
A stork pauses in the shallow river
alongside the cars, eying the current.
The water is aflame with sunset,
in shades of rose, umber and carmine.
Pine scent intermingles with
blooming goldenrod and early asters.
Blue mountains fade to gray.
Tomorrow is another day.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Fairy Tale Flowers
Seeds sown wide
scatter color to the wind.
July is hothouse
blooms and wildflowers:
Coreopsis gold,
Cosmos pink and purple,
Day lilies and moonflowers.
Bees, flown off their knees,
crumble dust to honey.
On that perfumed air,
dreams ride Scotch Broom,
trip on witch hobble
and snatch blueberries.
Bee balm bursts into fireworks.
Dragons doze in glades,
and little boys whistle up storms.
Thunder rides stallions
behind black clouds.
Summer is a fairy tale,
wild and free.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
This post is part of Poetry Friday, this week hosted thanks to Keri Recommends.
Zinnia Days
Bugs may nibble,
and the rain drizzle,
but my color flares
for you.
Heat may wilt,
or age bring a droop,
but my petals widen
for you.
Your smile holds the sun;
your scent perfumes the air.
Always I dream
of you.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Lavender Longing
Used with permission of Diary of Dennis
lavender longing
nothing else matters
ahhhh
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Thanks to Dennis for letting me use this photograph of his — it inspired my haiku. Please visit him for advice on photographing insects, which was above my head. If my iPhone can’t do it, I’m out of luck.
Bianca Belle
Bianca Belle knew full well:
A Belle wears white, plain and bright,
To her first ball within fairy Hall.
She wanted to rebel, shh, don’t tell!
She fought, ignoring all she’d been taught,
And did her own thing, finding her inner bling.
She added orange beads, like tiny seeds,
Dangling on citrine fringe: a wild color binge.
Bianca was one in a million at the cotillion.
She set a new trend by refusing to bend
To her parent’s tradition, creating a mission
Of being unique, true to herself, bold and chic.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Fairy Tent City
A sudden squall thunders.
Tent City springs up.
Way-sprites huddle –
wayfaring fae kin
dislike staying home.
They travel light:
just dancing feet,
a bit of music
and nature’s magic.
When rain pounds,
they hold fast
to one slippery slope and
conical roofs rise,
followed soon by tunes.
Fiddles sigh and drums thrum.
A lilting song climbs the scale –
a spirited counterpoint
to the pattering rain.
Birds hide under leaves
and bob their heads.
Chipmunks curl up
in their beds.
If only the music
would never stop.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Forest Spirits
Forest spirits linger high and
wonder at the changing sky.
Sky blue interlaces with clouds
above summer mountains blue.
Below, dark gorges are punctuated
by sharp granite shoulders, themselves
overlaid by softening moss quilts.
The still quiet is
broken by the first raindrop,
a mouse scurries for cover,
and the Lost River roars welcome.
I lose my worries at the feet of granite giants,
feel them washed free by rain hunting
the Lost River, hidden deep underground.
Its voice emerges from caves,
behind glacial boulders and over waterfalls.
Even the forest spirits are silenced.
That powerful roar
intrigues and captivates.
In the waterfall is the full fury.
What were my worries?
They pale beside river spirits,
kinfolk to the forest spirits.
The Lost River surges,
its voice amplified by
last night’s thundershowers
coupled with today’s sprinkles.
My spirit expands.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: These photographs were taken today at the Lost River Gorge. Over 1300 steps led into and around the gorge, taking us on a hide-and-seek journey exploring the Lost River and its many secret places.
Rhodie Abloom
proud full bloom
sprinkled with sage fairy dust
beckoning bees
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Hiking in New Hampshire today. Hot, sweltering with thunder shows hovering. I’ll hope for some fairy dust and a well-placed swimming hole. 🙂 Have a great week! Warmly, Brenda
Bee Magic
Bee magic,
deft and sure,
never lingering to despair.
Bee light,
zip and zoom,
ignoring all but the nectar.
Bee strong,
tough and enduring,
working nonstop all summer.
Bee safe,
at risk of harm,
you give back more than you take.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Despite colony collapse disorder, the bees are plentiful in the field. Without them, all of us would be out there with Q-tips, pollinating or perishing. Long live the bee!
Fairy Queen’s Parasol
The white parasol twirls,
dips and bobs in the
Fairy Queen’s slender hand.
The midsummer sun
dapples her pale cheeks,
gilding her glossy curls.
Beetles play at her feet,
like infants in the grass.
Ruby Columbine drops
petals-tears the
flavor of honey nectar,
tasted beside a wild rose ruin.
Her sisters pass out starry bud cups.
The queen nods her thanks.
The sweet scent combines with
thyme and sage, making the air
alive with color and promise.
The Fairy Queen’s eyes hide
behind the tilt of lace as she
hobnobs with nabobs,
each of them drinking.
None may know
what she’s thinking.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Butterfly Twilight
Used by permission of Jessica Hagan
Vanessa dances
at dusk in the begonias
scent of lavender
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Thanks to Jessica Hagan for letting me use her beautiful photograph of the American Lady Butterfly, Vanessa Virginiensis!
Friendly Fairy Tales 