Beauty Shines

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Torn and nibbled,
not one undamaged leaf remains.
Frost-rimed in the morning,
and then rain-drenched all day.
Beset, bewildered and bedraggled,
yet they shine.
Inner beauty shines.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Paris, you shine. Nothing anyone does can take that from you. From your diversity to your bridges, churches, parks, islands, to your museums divine, you shine. Vive la France!!

A prayer for healing and peace with Arlene at Dreams and Escapes. “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” ― Martin Luther King Jr

Seed for Thought

Milkweed

Kindness is
planting milkweed seed
for a monarch butterfly
we’ve never met.
My daughter and I
dig a trench along
a wooded path,
where just a bit of light comes in.
It’s place where a caterpillar
might live its days in
emerald twilight,
munching its favorite food,
until it winds hope about itself.
Then it can be still,
listening to the wind
and the dog walkers,
the trail joggers
and the children finding pebbles
among the leaves and earth
in this green place of wishes.
Kindness is hoping it grows.
Kindness is carrying water in two hands,
sloshed onto colorful sneakers,
dribbled onto a rumpled trench.
Kindness is wishing all winter
for not-too-cold, not-too-dry,
for that seed to remember
the loving hands that patted
the soil into place.
Kindness is imagining the world
orange and yellow,
full of fluttering wings,
Without a care for oneself.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note:  A few days ago, my daughter and I planted a hundred milkweed seeds along the edge of a wood. We watched for rain and imagined the seeds putting down tiny roots. We hope for a dozen milkweed plants come spring. We hope monarchs hear the milkweed song and come dancing along. Have you a kind act to share? Today’s Little Ditty has a challenge from editor Rebecca Davis to write “a poem about a specific act or moment of kindness. You can write it from any point of view– as a participant, a beneficiary, or as a witness. The more specific and vivid, the better!” Some of the poetry will be published by Today’s Little Ditty between now and Thanksgiving.

Willow’s Secret

Willow tree

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.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

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!

Poetry Friday with kids

Finding Red

Oak leaves with red at the edges

A toddler oak glints like rubies.
Too young for acorns, trunk,
Or boughs, just a sprig,
a sprout, a snip of joy,
with earth between its toes,
it has unfolded proudly.
Its leaves flower in fall,
alight, aglow, aflame,
crimson with yearning for spring.
Its sire has amber leaves and brown
scattered about the ground.
Does the tiny tree dread
gale force winds, ice and snow
more than its older kin?

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Red Maple Tanka

Red Leaf, tips curled, as if remembering

flight
one perfect moment
remembered

fingers curled in longing
to relive one’s height

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Do you have one time in your life you would relive if you could?

Leaves Rain

Three Maple Leaves

leaves rain
tree tears spiral and tumble
mourning summer

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Maple tree in color

Bat Haunts

Bat Haunts Trees poem picture

Text again, for text to speech readers:

Bat
haunts
dark trees
in leaf costume, hunting.
The full silver moon hides its eyes.

© 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: This is offered for the 5th Annual Halloweensie Writing Contest at Susanna Leonard Hill’s blog. Susanna is a children’s book writer, and she is offering awesome prizes for contest winners: critiques, magazines and books, oh my! I imagine mine is too short to be taken seriously, but if you have a 100 word or less story or poem, done by midnight tonight (I know, right? But I just found out about it half an hour ago!) with some form of the words dark, haunt and costume, then throw your hat in the ring.

Harvest Song

tomatoes on the vine

No cellophane or styrofoam
enclose vegetables that
ripen with deep roots in loam.

But tomatoes need attention
from sunshine and gardener —
saving seeds is an obsession.

A good soaking for the seed
then planting in warm soil —
water, fertilize, stake and weed.

Year after year, they grow
Are they fruit or vegetable?
They’re silent. They don’t know.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: I harvested the last of my tomatoes before the recent frost. They were a poor crop this year. Free roaming turkeys ate most of my garden. Ten roost in the maple outside my bedroom window, nearly invisible, except when coming or going.

Autumn Honey

Sunflower

Do rusty blooms taste bittersweet,
of summer gone, left incomplete?
Thick stems are braced for swirls
from wind, even hurricanes whirls.
Honey formed on shortening days
might fizz, pop and amaze.
Will a bit smeared on bread
come with warnings of danger ahead?
Perhaps tea sweetened with that nectar
would raise an unholy specter,
a white vision of winter coming,
icy, pale dreams thrumming.
I recklessly stir it into a cup,
unafraid of what might turn up.
The stillness of a perfect day
belies the storms headed this way.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Raspberry August

raspberry bush and pint

dusty driveway
carts with awnings
rainbow of vegetables
and fruit —
pick your own —
rows of green brambles
leaning on string
spiderwebs glinting
lemony scent of crushed clover
delicate red berries
hidden under leaves
stems sagging low
ruby juice on fingertips
eaten on vanilla bean ice cream
long for more
August
I miss you

raspberries

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: Thanks to Andy, I’m adding a link to Daily Post — Happy Place. Serendipity is sweet as berries. I’m also adding a link to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by the lovely and talented Amy Ludwig VanDerwater at the Poem Farm.

Poetry Friday with kids

Sisters Sing Madrigals

Twin Pink Dahlias

young sisters, grow
sing madrigals to summer
dance all the day

turn toward the starlight
chins tucked into dreaming

wayward thistledown
spirals one way then the next
chased by bluejays

more voices join madrigals
sisters betwixt and between

too close, bash heads
dreams shaken by storm wind
madrigals fade

one summer lasts a lifetime
starlight lasts even longer

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: This poem is arranged into three tankas. A madrigal is a either a medieval poem or a song without instruments in two or more parts. I like to think madrigals sung by flowers would be both poem and song. May your week be lightened by flower song.

Aglow

Smoke bush

Aglow with new growth,
Aglow with joy,
Blood to pump
and thoughts to run,
toward the sky, afloat,
on high.
This is life,
in all its ups and downs,
magic pulsing,
sick then well,
in pain then resting.
Thanks for my breath,
free of pain,
thanks for sunshine,
warm on my skin,
for hugs from my kin and
another day to begin.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: I’ve recovering well from the surgery, and I feel the poetry coursing in my veins again. I hope the magic finds you, lifts you and makes your heart and imagination soar. XOXO, Brenda