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September 12, 2015

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Color Pirate

Seize every color
from the trees to the leaves
from the houses and the breeze.
Embrace a flower’s bold hue
and each neutral tone made,
for all of it matters, each shade.

Note: A Painted Lady is a Victorian house with at least three colors of paint used. Wikipedia allows Edwardian and Queen Anne houses, too. I’m lucky enough to live in a town with several bold ones. I wrote this poem after reading many September 11 posts, and remembering the day myself. If only we could all see the beauty in the rainbow of colors around us and stop hating and blaming each other. Build, preserve and celebrate rather than destroy. If words have magic, and I believe they do, then let peace increase!

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

May 25, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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What Peace Looks Like

Lilies of the Valley
Was the scent my grandmother wore.
Her warm hugging arms filled me with
Boundless approval.

The tiny white bells
Remind me of a baby bonnet
And wrappings my children wore
Coming home.

Each spring
The lilies bring back moments
When I was heart-full, cherished and
At peace.

Note: Artists4Peace are taking submissions for June with the theme: What Peace Looks Like. If you want to add your voice, you can find June’s submissions call with one click. Peace is a way of life!

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

January 19, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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White Queen’s Fall

Pawn lost at the dawn,
Blacks carrion crows
Checkmate at the close,
Victory now seems small:
King mourns White Queen’s fall.
Perhaps the price of war
Is too high after all.

Note: The game of chess is a bloodless battle to the eventual doom of an opponent. Do you play? Are you ruthless? Are you willing to sacrifice your queen?

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

January 11, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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Frosted Pain

Snowflakes,
Frost snakes
Down the pane
Blurring the lane.
Cold rattles,
TV prattles,
Frozen thought:
What was sought
By crazy terrorists
Killing cartoonists?
The earth may still turn
But do what we learn?
Did they feel pain and rage?
Want a world stage?
But don’t praise god —
Your reasoning is flawed.
Revenge, blood, death,
Stop and take a breath.
Remember joy and love,
They come from above.
Embrace life and creation
And stop the devastation.

Note: Je suis Charlie. I am Charlie. I stand with free press and with peace through love of differences. I honor all religions, and my heart weeps for all the Jews who feel fear, all the Christians who feel under attack, all the muslims who don’t agree with the actions of terrorists, and all the other religions who feel sorrow. I feel sorrow at having to explain these events to children and immense sadness for the families of victims. No matter your beliefs, please help me speak out against violence and terror.

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

October 9, 2014

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Photography, Poetry

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Pure Pink Pleasure

Magic is in the color,
The pure pleasure of light
Hitting flower petals,
Then arcing across to me.
Pink makes me feel peaceful,
A magic balm to my spirit.

Note: A pink orchid symbolizes pure affection, and pure affection is what I have for fairy tale lovers everywhere! This poem is dedicated to Michelle Marie and Jeanne Marie, the Queens of Pink, and to all the lovers of fairy tales everywhere.

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

September 5, 2014

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Poetry

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Red Dragon Flower

Red dragon, hidden on a green stalk,
Do you enjoy the cool rain?
You must bank your fires, release your heat,
To embrace your opposite.
Imagination spirals in the red,
Peace is possible for all.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

July 20, 2014

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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43 Comments

Cairn for the Sea

What offering can we leave the sea?
It has no need of you or me.
The moon can draw forth the waves,
but you and I are but slaves.

Inner anxieties diminish and worries
Lessen in the ocean’s furies.
Peaceful watching the water’s play
Is how I would spend my day.

And yet some sign of thanks are needed
For the peace and joy received.
One of us begins to stack a tall cairn of stone,
With each large rock lifted, a groan.

Each helps and with our effort, fixed on creating beauty
We fulfill our remaining duty,
To show our appreciation for this untamed land
Which gives peace and makes lives grand.

Note: I dedicate this post to the Artists for Peace, who are trying to make the world more peaceful, one beautiful piece of art at a time. We need more art, more peace, and less war and violence. The first link will lead you to their page of topics, the one for this August being friendship. I chose a topic of thankfulness, because I am thankful for our earth, and I wish to be its friend. I would like to spread a love for our earth’s wild places. If you click on the Artists 4 Peace logo, it will take you to their home page.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

July 18, 2014

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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39 Comments

Redwood Giants

Peace in the redwood forest primeval,
Cell connectivity is lost: thought without interruption.
Wandering beside ancient giants,
Glen temperatures were low and cool.

I gaze up to the sky, invisible under the canopy.
The tops of trees are lost in a bright, green blur.
My children and I hunt for gnome homes.
Dark places keep their secrets, as we stay on the paths.

Yet magic is in the very air, all things seem possible.
From the green twilight, we spy a glade,
Emerald grass shining with the first sunlight seen.
Surely the fae dance there, shimmering between worlds.

Notes:

Distances are deceptive in the photograph: the tiny bit of blue is a tall man, nearly swallowed by a distant curve in the path.

The oldest tree in Muir Woods is 1500 years old, born the year 514: it’s parent would have been capable of being born 3000 B.C., a distance in time to us unfathomable, yet only one generation apart in the forest primeval. Perhaps the spirits of the ancients still watch from beyond this world.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

January 19, 2014

Posted under

Holiday, Poetry

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68 Comments

A Sonnet: Let the Sun Set on Hatred

We are all children together looking for answers,
Cheered by beauty, gymnasts, athletes or dancers.
We look for family, love or a release to our pain,
For food, comfort, or shelter from fear and distain.
We are all alike: blessed by every sunny day,
Then cast down by ice storms and endless gray.

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