White Butterfly Dream

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The white butterfly raises her wings,
Setting sail across the wide Dogwood Sea.
Wind makes the crossing choppy,
White wings jibe and come about,
Alighting nowhere, like a fae albatross.
The cabbage-white butterfly blends —
She could be a dogwood petal
But for her mesmerizing aerial dance.
One tiny egg laid on the underside of a mustard leaf,
Gave birth to her brief but ecstatic life.
Her tiny white wing-sails make of the air an endless ocean.
Oh, to dance with her on the white breakers,
Smelling sweetly of spring rather than salt
With nectar’s spray dampening my skin.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Splashin’ Pink

Clematis

fingerpaint pink rays
blooms opening childlike smiles
fuzzy green hearts

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Rock Garden Charm

Salvia and stone wall

rock garden
structure enfolds elegance
stone walls support

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Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Papa Poppy

Red Poppy

 

Shining brightly, for all to see,
Father flower, right there nightly,
Strong and steadfast, ready to enfold,
With love, his children he beholds.

Happy Father’s Day to my hubby, father of my three children, my own father and my father-in-law. And Happy Father’s Day to all the dads, on the good days and the bad. Parenting can be a bumpy road, but this is for the dads who keep going, day after day, making bad days better and good days great. We all need our fathers as much as our mothers. Blessings, Brenda

Celandine Often Seen

Wildflower

deep in the woods
wildflowers by the path’s edge
sunshine in the dim

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Succor for Soul Ninette

succulents in a pot

 

Still
Garden
Succulents,
Thick and fleshy,
Summer heart pulsing,
Pride of Wood Elves,
Flowers not,
Dry Wit,
Root.

Note: This poem is a Ninette, with 5 lines, starting with one syllable on the first line, increasing by ones to five on the fifth and then decreasing by ones to one syllable on the last line. Or a syllable count of: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Reference: Poetry Soup – Ninette

Violet Starburst

  “It’s not about what it is, it’s about what it can become.” 

― Dr. Seuss, The Lorax

Giant Allium

shooting stars
tiny truffula trees
violet galaxy

Giant Allium

Note: In my house, despite knowing this is the giant allium bloom, we always call it the Dr. Seuss plant, in honor of it looking like his truffula trees in the Lorax. Every year it delights us and makes us smile.

Wisteria Heavy

Wisteria on a wooden fence

weighted with words
wisteria heavy
falling from lips

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Dandelion Wishes

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windy days blowing
dandelion kisses high
children make wishes

Dandelion seeding

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Spring Bonnets

Lacy Cap Mushroom

lacy-capped mushrooms
popping up all over town
spring bonnets

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Iris Blooms Haibun

Pink Iris in Bloom

 

The sun is blinding hot today, a taste of summer to come in four weeks. In a previous post, Visitor in the Temple Haibun, I wrote about irises that came in the soil of my house. For years they sent up green leaves, but never did they bloom except once.

Two years ago, I moved them from their spot beside the wild forsythia. An iris grows from a fat root that sits shallowly in the soil. Planted too deep, it will never bloom. Once transported, irises can take years to acclimate and rebloom. But taken care of, the root will outlive us all.

patient, enduring
hibernating deeply
blooming when ready

This morning, those iris roots, probably older than me but certainly older than all my children, have bloomed again. Last winter’s severe cold must have given them a taste for summer’s heat.  Across the street, my neighbor’s irises also greet the sunshine, proudly and without shyness.

elegant beards drape
velvet walkways invites bees
tomorrow’s blooms wait

Note: This post is dedicated to those who persevere, who ride out the hard times, make homes wherever they are transplanted, and then bloom when the moment is right. You know who you are. 🙂

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note on photographs: The above picture is of the irises that have finally bloomed for me. These below are those from across the street, neighboring monarchs.

Orange Iris blooming Pink Iris blooming

Fairy Tale Flower

White Tulips

To glow in the cold rain,
When bleak skies are dim,
And never once complain,
You could be written by Grimm.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

White Tulips