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

Happy Birthday to Robert Frost

 

foo dog dragon statue, white

Dragon’s voice rings
with thundering wings.
The foo dog’s yawn
brings the dawn.
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Roses for Noses

IMG_1772

My nose misses roses
through long winter days,
but Trader Joe’s knows.
There, summers scents
come in cellophane.
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Peace is like Sunlight

Willow tree

Peace is like sunlight:
I yearn toward it.
I can’t hold it in my hand.
I want it most
Continue reading

Yellow Thing

Daffodils with blue sky

I enjoy every
yellow thing
that blooms in
early spring.

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: This ditty is in honor of writing and rewriting manuscripts galore. Plus, today, I won an award-winning book thanks to a cat named Maggie. Continue reading

Happy World Poetry Day!

Some people never go crazy.
What truly horrible lives they must lead.

— Henry Charles Bukowski

purple crocus shining in sun

I have greatly enjoyed my crazy poetry-filled day. Continue reading

Who are You?

Vermont Pond with loosestrife

I prefer tea.
I prefer rain to drought.
I prefer quiet to parties.
I prefer gardens in the centers of cities
where I can lay on my back and imagine flying with birds.
I prefer to feel than to be numb.
I prefer grief to forgetting.
I prefer dragon to draggin’ and phoenix to flames.
I prefer the golden rule.
I prefer chocolate to anything else
except passion and a lover’s approval.
I prefer to worship love than hate.
I prefer wildflower meadows
to gardens sliced by boxwood canyons.
I prefer to build rather than tear down.
I prefer the rhetoric of peace but cannot abide genocide.
I prefer mystery to someone’s else certainty.
I prefer to go unnoticed by Murphy’s Law.
I prefer happy to perfect and joyful to tidy.
I prefer to melt in the rain
than to send out flying monkeys.
I prefer books to movies except the Lord of Rings.
I prefer walking to gyms.
I prefer children laughing to silence.
I prefer silence to rage.
I prefer rage to despair.
I prefer to share despair than to turn away.
I prefer to look for magic rather than
ranting about its absence.
I prefer poetry to newspapers.
I prefer humble to Trump-eting.

Who are you?

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: I was inspired to write this list poem by The Drift Record post celebrating Possibilities, a poem by Nobel-prize winning poet Wislawa Szymborska. When I understood who she was, I better understood myself.

I also put this up in honor of Women’s History Month and World Poetry Day (Monday).  Please feel free to write your own preferences and link up here, there or everywhere. Or put yours in the comments. Have a magical weekend!

Puddle Heaven

Puddle on a sidewalk reflecting trees and a chain link fence

Stamp, stomp,
puddle heaven,
fountains everywhere
when you’re seven.

Laugh and howl,
wet socks,
drippy drops everywhere,
forget clocks.

Arrive speckled
with muddy blots,
not welcome everywhere,
stomach in knots.

Will mom see past hems
dripping dark dots?
Rather than dirt everywhere,
she sees cheetah spots!

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

Notes: Poets find joy in puddles:

“The world is mud-luscious…
[and] puddle-wonderful”
—  e.e. cummings

Since writing a haibun on puddles, I’ve wondered how cumming’s mother viewed him, arriving home. My poem’s been in its chrysalis, but finally that wondering took shape and spread wings.

Another fun poem about puddles is Puddle Splash by Roann Mendriq:

What is it about rain puddles,
that make one want to splash?
That turns us into children,
in a quick and happy flash?

Read the rest here.

Poetry Friday with kids

Big thanks to Robyn Hood Black, a wonderful poet and author, for hosting this week’s Kidlitospere Poetry Friday extravaganza.

Three Limerick Tale of Leprechaun and Kitten

Glass plate with a stained glass shamrock

Tiny O’Toole loved a kitten.
He felt himself hard bitten.
“Ouch!” he cried.
“Open wide!”
He stuffed her in his mitten.

“Now, that’s not fitting’,”
complained the kitten.
“Let me out
or I’ll shout.
After all, I’m no Briton!”

O’Toole sipped mead,
and then he agreed:
“Come out!
No doubt
you mistook me for tweed.”

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

Notes: Happy St. Patrick’s Day! The art work is a stained glass plate I made with my daughter. A limerick is a light-hearted poem with the rhyming pattern AABBA. A lines are shorter than B lines. My all-time most viewed post is Leprechaun Limerick. I also wrote a set of three limericks on being Irish.

Love Stays

 

Love never fully goes away;
it lingers, like a vine white with winter,
remembering its heyday.
Its memory can sting like a splinter.

Best to give the vine sunshine;
don’t let it grow stiff and cold.
Green leaves unfold on mine
because new love grows from old.

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: I’ve joined Twitter, and my what a fun free-for-all party it is: a cocktail party with air kisses, heady drinks and no one pigeon-holing me with long stories. If you’re on Twitter and want to friend me, I’m @BrendaDHarsham. Eventually, I’ll figure out how to put that somewhere useful on my sidebar.

I’m not sure I like how WP publishes to Twitter, though. I wasn’t fond of the way it publishes to FB (no line breaks in text), but that’s better than how it publishes to Twitter. It just publishes the title then a link. None of the text of the post appears, just one photo. No matter how engaging your first line or two, no one on Twitter will see it unless they click the link. Now I understand why so many people put hashtags in post titles — because otherwise, they never show up in your tweet, and won’t pop into anyone’s search on that tag without them.

And you can’t edit a tweet. You have to delete and redo if you post in the middle of the night in a state of advanced exhaustion (and grammar has departed for the day).

All that said, the people on Twitter have been welcoming and lovely. Hugs all around.

Reindeer Games in #Finland

reindeer_driving_competition_-10

Air snaps at the Finland
Winter Festival.
Carnival fragrances
of coffee and sweet dough
mingle with the muskier
scent of reindeer.
Reindeer racers hail
from Finland without fail,
but also Spain, Germany,
France, Australia and Italy!

reindeer_driving_competition_-14

To Oulu from
far and near,
they race and laugh
with joyful reindeer.

Finland Reindeer rides by Sartenada

Kids of all ages watch and ride.
My inner kid wants to finish
the Finnish challenge
one day, wrapped in my parka
and wearing a rainbow cap.
Maybe I’ll even see the
Northern lights.

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: Photographs used by permission of Sartenada. If you wonder what it looks like beyond the Arctic Circle in summer, she has another great post with reindeer. I learned many names for reindeer in other languages, rennes (French), renos (Spanish), poro (Finnish), renna (Italian), rentier (German), ren (Romanian) and 驯鹿 (Chinese).