grandmother’s table
set with crystal and white lace
nature’s lace echoes
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Bumblebee, Bumblebee,
What do you see?
Are flowers as big to you as a tree to me?
Are stamens your tightrope?
Is that wet petal like a mountain slope?
Do you dream? What is your hope?
Bumblebee, bumblebee,
I care about you, you see.
Without you, there might be no me.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Seabirds scream overhead before diving into Pavilion Beach’s gentle waves. Tide pools reflect the sky. Surrounding sand is cold and muddy, squashing between my toes. A salty wind scrubs my skin raw.
The Ipswich beach is not crowded, but on one side, a sausage dog sniffs my feet and looks askance. On the other side, college students discuss over-drinking and under-studying, their laughter louder than the waves. Across the Sound, Plum Island’s sands gleam whiter than wishes. I daydream about solitude over there: just my family, the seabirds and the sunshine, sea winds blowing my cares away.
I look down at the ripples left by the tides. Overlaid are footprints of people who arrived, gazed at the same sights as me, and then departed. They left these traces of life behind: bare feet, shod feet, children’s feet, bird feet. I add my footprints to the chaos left by other beach lovers. I am part of a greater whole, separate, yet no different.
white boat bobs
sails furled, engine quiet
bird feet leave no trace
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
“Look at the baby!” An elder fairy cooed then sipped nectar of jalapeño.
“Oh, she’s so cute!” A barrista fairy chimed in, while handing out honey-frappes.
“Look how pink she is!” A third fairy exclaimed, sipping her honeysuckle frappuccino.
“Thanks, my dears,” the mother fairy replied, “I just hope she naps!”
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Happy Memorial Day, everybody, from the Rhododendron Fairy Cafe!
Warmly, Brenda
Wild Honeysuckle
Fair flower, that dost so comely grow, Hid in this silent, dull retreat, Untouched thy honied blossoms blow, Unseen thy little branches greet: No roving foot shall crush thee here, No busy hand provoke a tear. -- Philip Freneau
Hummingbirds hover, long beaks seeking
Trumpets of nectar in a wild blooming hedge.
Honeysuckle, so sweet and fragrant,
Small, shy flowers, perfuming the air.
What magic allows you to bloom early and long,
Leaves first to green and last to wither?
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Reference: http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/wild-honeysuckle
Forsythia: golden bells curving overhead;
A green path winds through the hedge.
I step under the archway and stop dead.
A forsythia fairy flutters, about to fledge.
The air is filled with crystalline shine,
And a magic gale forces me backward.
I catch a glimpse of the fairy in flight, sublime.
Then the path is empty; my tale fractured.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Plugged into pretty pink,
Powered on, pumped and plumped,
Pleased to hear parties planned.
Just jazzed by joy,
Jumping for color,
Jogging my memory.
Many other happy springs:
Mingled colors and aromas,
Mother’s Day memories.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This post is dedicated to all moms, full-time, part-time, for-all-time moms. Moms near, moms far, moms always in the heart, whatever the name: Mom, Mum, Mam, Mama, Mommy, Step-Mom, Ma, Mamasita, Mother. Please let me know other names for Moms, and I will add them here. Much love to all Moms!!
Happy Mother’s Day to these special moms:
Sue Ann, Fairport, New York (Get Well Soon and come home from the hospital, too!!)
Jessie, Palm Springs, California
Jo Anne, Los Angeles, California
Mary, Bedford, Massachusetts
Cathryn, Burlington, Massachusetts
Julie, Billerica, Massachusetts
Jennie, Billerica, Massachusetts
Mickey, Syracuse, New York
Susan, Fairport, New York
Ellen, Newton, Massachusetts
Donna, Machias, Maine
Elizabeth, or Betty, Matias, New York (and Happy Early Birthday, too!!)