Find the Divine

University of St. Thomas in Minneapolis photo by Laura Purdie Salas

Fresco at University of St. Thomas in Minneapolis Used by Permission of Laura Purdie Salas

The fairy tale, the prosaic,
the absurd and the divine,
find their way into myth,
story, art and rhyme.

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Spring’s Poetry

Skunk Cabbage -- Symplocarpus foetidus

Mudiferous,
squelching ramble
beneath bare branches
and yearning buds
yields a vast harvest
in my wintry soul
of spring faith. Continue reading

Roses for Noses

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My nose misses roses
through long winter days,
but Trader Joe’s knows.
There, summers scents
come in cellophane.
Continue reading

A Grain of Sand

Boy making a sandcastle on turtle-back

Used by Permission of Artist Sath

Children dig sandcastles,
atop the swimming World Turtle,
until the tide smoothes the canvas.
Worlds change, drift out of time,
afloat currents ever moving
from ancient times, like thoughts,
like words or art, like life itself.
We swim in rainbow-hued oceans with the
World Turtle and sift ideas like sand.
Each sparkling grain holds a child’s song,
a collision of stars, a galaxy of possibility.
The oldest tree was born in prehistory.
Its innermost ring is the world’s oldest writing.
Its roots entwine eternity, holding it fast,
watching us blink in and out like candles.
Although we shed our light briefly,
we are part of the world’s ebb and flow,
and all things that come after
will find our sand, our songs, our stars
still living, infinite and immortal.

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

Notes: I reference William Blake’s famous quatrain:

“To see a World in a Grain of Sand 
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, 
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand 
And Eternity in an hour.”
(Auguries of Innocence)

Resa Swork is devoting a month to kids at her site, Graffiti Lux and Murals. Her post, SOM-RIU, inspired this poem. Thanks to urban artist Sath, Aproscom Fundació and the Joan Mesquida Special Education Center, a school for people with intellectual disabilities located in Manacor (Mallorca). They are crowd funding a project to bring Sath from Thailand to teach students how to express themselves in murals and to make their environment a beautiful, living work of art. Elsewhere, Sath’s art frames the streets with vibrant humor and irreverence. The crowd funding project has less than a month remaining and has not quite gotten halfway to its goal of € 5.500.

Update: Sath‘s site is up and running. Apparently server trouble blocked access temporarily. I hope you can visit him.

Poetry Friday Badge

This post is my contribution to Poetry Friday, hosted thanks to Elizabeth Steinglass, a wonderful poet.

For the grammatically conscious in the crowd (or anal – I happen to be anal about grammar), I chose the verb tense spelling for “smoothes” without thinking it over, but then after reading and rereading so many times, it looked wrong. I looked it up, and apparently there’s quite a controversy. I attached the link to the word if grammar disputes are your cup of tea, but the short answer is that that spelling is in ascendency.

Have a magical weekend! Warmly, Brenda

Spun Sugar Trees

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spun sugar trees
limbs bent to the knees,
white with delight

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

Notes:

This is a rhyming haiku.
It’s something to do.
Want to try one, too?

Poetry Friday with kids

Happy Valentine’s Day and welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted thanks to Kimberley Moran at Written Reflections.

Tickle Proof Sharks

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If I had fins, I could swim
as sharks do, with a ripple
of my muscled back,
eyes open, never sleeping.
I’d never brush my teeth,
I’d grow new ones.
I’d smell my brothers coming
and swim the other way.
Even if they caught up,
my diamond-tooth skin
would be tickle proof.
I wouldn’t have to walk
down dark hallways,
my way would be lit
by phosphorescent fish.
I’d never have to sleep
alone in my room
with only a bear.
I’d stay on the move,
snacking between meals
whenever I choose.
Mom busses my cheek
and tucks me in.
My mouth tastes minty.
Bing-Bong, my bear,
fits into my elbow,
just right.
Sharks can’t dream
if they never sleep.
I wonder what
I’ll dream tonight.
I’ll be a shark in the sea!
I’m glad I’m me.

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: For all the people who long to be sharks, may you swim in dreamland tonight. This poem is also for the kids’ literature folks at Poetry Friday. Thanks to this week’s host, Catherine, a talented teacher and poet, at Reading to the Core. Michelle Heidenrich Barnes at Today’s Little Ditty published a wonderful collection of poetry about nothing, and she even included a poem of mine that doesn’t appear on this website. If you want to submit your poem about nothing, you can visit her site for details. She enters all participants and commenters to win an autographed book, too!

Poetry Friday with kids

Season of Thanks

roses

Thankful for summer —
fragrant with cottage roses
climbing a stone wall.

Multicolored Maple leaf in fall

Thankful for autumn’s
brilliant multi-colored leaves
that spin, curl and fall.

pond life under ice

Thankful for winter —
sledding and skating on mill ponds,
made smooth with ice.

IMG_4823

Thankful for spring
when bulbs and roots create
flower paradise.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: Here is a thankful poem in recognition of Thanksgiving, a time when we celebrate what the earth gives us. This is my contribution for Poetry Friday hosted this week by Miss Rumphius Effect.

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

Behind the Ferns

Gold and Purple Iris

Behind the ferns,
A dragon shakes the rain
From golden scales,
Yawns, stretches and
Rises from her rest.
Human eyes are fooled,
By shadow and light,
A color camouflage:
We see only
An iris at its best.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: This dragon is dedicated to gardeners, landscapers, garden center owners and nature lovers everywhere. To people whose lives are dedicated to the transient, yet enduring, beauty of nature. If you’ve ever planted a single bulb or watered a houseplant, this is for you, too. And it’s already time for Poetry Friday again! How did that happen so fast? This week is hosted by Jama at Jama’s Alphabet Soup, a haven of tasty poetry.

Flying Carpet

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A yellow peony takes me
Flying through time
Back to another garden
Another day
In the hot sun
Footsore
Sweating
Hearing water trickle
From a waterwheel
Wanting to plunge into the river
Wanting shade
Wanting water
Wanting my mother.
At least I found shade.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: Memories aren’t always cheerful. Sometimes they hurt. Have you ever had an X-ray guided cortisone shot? I had one in my shoulder today, and I’m the girl on fire. So in honor of my shoulder, and its temper tantrum, I watched Hunger Games. At least I’m not in danger of being eaten by wild dogs. Hope your weekend is wonderful. And this post is also my contribution to Poetry Friday, hosted this week at Buffy’s Blog.

Azalea Magic

Pink Azalea Blooms

Fallen forsythia sunshine lines my path.
I linger in a bower circled by giant phlox.
Lady Spring casts her spell,
A come-hither invitation to embrace
The wind, scented with lilacs and irises.
Cottonwood fluff tangles in my hair.
Inchworms pulse on invisible silk.
Grass stalks tickle my ankles.
Dandelions smile at bluejays.
Swallows skim empty soccer fields.
Dogs woof and chase squirrels.
Maple leaves dapple the forest path,
Insects munch and rabbits lunch,
But azaleas steal the show.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: This poem is a celebration of my morning walk and New England. If you want to join your song to mine, leave a comment here with a link to your favorite poem or join Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Reflections on the Teche. Let your imagination soar and your words fly. Have a great weekend! Warmly, Brenda

Poetry Friday with kids

Spring Rain Crescendo

Purple Irises in Rain

Raindrops
Rain plops
Plink, plink
Pitter, patter
Crack of thunder
Howling gusts
Shake the windows
Rain drums sideways
Young plants flatten
Trees bend sideways
Dry earth drinks deep
Lemon tulip petals scatter
Blacktop steams and hisses
Pollen washes into soil
Puddles swell to lakes
Wind softens, sighs
Drip, drop, stop
Greens deepen
Flowers glisten
Birds sing
I listen

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: We are having a dry spring, and we need rain. If we don’t get rain soon, we might be dancing for it like the children in the fairy tale, Rain Dance. This poem is a prayer for rain and a celebration of Poetry Friday, where poetry falls like rain on a dry earth. The host and poetry gathering point this week is Random Noodling. The hostess, Diane, offers a quote by Mark Twain and a poem about sanity. Worth a look! Write a poem for kids or quote one by another, and you can join the fun by visiting and contributing your link. Here is a bonus poem by a favorite author:

April Rain

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain. 

Langston Hughes