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March 1, 2016

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Last Berry

To the final berry,
trembling and silent,
life is scary.
Unchosen,
unpicked,
half-frozen.
Squirrel-missed,
bird-pecked,
sun-kissed.
Little, red and round,
when the snowdrops bloom,
I’ll plant you underground.

Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: My son was at the ER this weekend. My internal compass has been swinging left to right and back again. Upheaval, danger, chaos, progress, crisis. Spring will bring me back into the garden, and life will resume it’s course: toward magic and joy. I hope you are having a magical week. Warmly, Brenda

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

January 29, 2016

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Photography

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52 Comments

Vibrant all Year – WPC

Summer

raspberries

watermelon

Twin Pink Dahlias

hibiscus Continue reading →

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

January 13, 2016

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Photography, Poetry

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44 Comments

Connection

Connection,
reconnection,
lines entwined, aligned.
Squirrels use superhighways, and
information zips sideways.
Talk is the tendency when
winter’s in ascendancy.
Messages zing with arctic air.
Yet, summer’s there
in buds drowsing,
a promise of carousing
when summer’s scent
will rise from each branch, bent
from the memory of
winter’s icy love.
Seasons circle and dance,
hypnotic with romance.

Note: Are you finding the magic in the season? It’s harder in the winter doldrums, but keep your spirits up, the days are getting longer already! Cast your eyes on a Scottish stone circle formed from the earth’s oldest rock, and you’ll see winter romance, indeed, thanks to Seonaid at breathofgreenair.

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

September 3, 2015

Posted under

Humor, Photography

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28 Comments

Cee’s Which Way Challenge

Hulahoopers Crossing

Wrestle with Trestle

The Shadow Knows

Frogs Welcome

Way to make me smile, Cee! I’ve missed your challenges.

Happy September and Back-To-School Month!

Warmly, Brenda

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

September 2, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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25 Comments

Blue Dragon

Peaks and valleys
alternate between
hidden places and
violet cloud reaches.
The earth’s undulating
blue dragon scales
devour distance.

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

August 28, 2015

Posted under

Humor, Photography, Poetry

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27 Comments

Rabbit Hole

fall here
landings will be softened
by cake

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

August 22, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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34 Comments

Phenomenal Bloom

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.

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!

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

August 19, 2015

Posted under

Humor, Photography, Poetry

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55 Comments

Magic Mirror

“Mirror, Mirror, shining bright,
in that river to my right,
who’s the fairest in the land?”
River winked at Meadowland:
“You are, fairest lady Sky,
“whether you are wet or dry.”

“Best to keep her happy, dear,
else we’ll dry to dust this year,”
Meadowland agreed with River.
Then Cherry Tree gave a shiver:
“Silence, she might hear you, fools,
you know it’s Lady Sky that rules.”

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

August 8, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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25 Comments

Mountain Cloudburst

Tears fall from dark clouds,
spit spatter splash!
Thunder rip roars!
Wipers swish swash!
Fog swirls on the mountainside
then descends like ghostly legions.
Blue mountains disappear
behind a blurry sky.
Whoosh,
the car emerges
into sunshine.
Only the leaves prove
the rain danced.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

August 7, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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32 Comments

Raspberry Magic

sugar sweet fragrance
berries form beside blooms
even bears hunger

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

August 6, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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21 Comments

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.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

July 7, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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66 Comments

River Drifting

River blooms green
Between water lily stars.
Swans nibble
Tender water moss
While minnows
Dart amid the bobbing
Carpet of green.
Water striders flee.
A hush falls as
The great blue heron
Lifts its wide wings.
He beats the air from his
Driftwood perch.
A redwinged blackbird
Flashes red and yellow stripes
Among the elderberries.
Mrs. Mallard pecks at
Arrow Arum.
A Canada goose stands
On one foot in the shallows.
The current carries us
Ever onward
Toward the sea,
The light in our eyes.