Our oldest love, our first love,
Unfolds with our own birth,
Grows as we take our first steps.
The love that makes us children again.
We love you, Mom!
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Tag Archives: Poetry
Duchesses
duchesses abloom
raspberry silk smiles
radiant, dancing
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Here’s a haiku in honor of the UK’s new Duchess of Cambridge and to celebrate May flowers. My son’s foot is healing, and he is proud that the grass seed he planted on Earth Day has sprouted already. He may be in pain, but he has a green thumb. And a mom who watered the seeds. 😉 This haiku is also another Poetry Friday offering, hosted this week by Today’s Little Ditty.
Squill Overkill
Too
much Squill
is overkill.
The smallest spill —
tiny blooms of white,
lightly striped with blue starlight —
brings a taste of spring to excite.
Yet my neighbor’s grown a sapphire glade
that tempts me into yearning for cool shade.
Too much Squill or just enough?
Mother Nature struts her stuff.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: The first flowers are Puschkinia scilloides var. libanotica or Striped Squill. I wrote a previous poem to the blue Squill. I hope the spring is singing to you, as it’s singing to me. Have a wonderful week!
Wings Spread
IN FLIGHT
by Jennifer K. Sweeney
The Himalayan legend says
there are beautiful white birds
that live completely in flight.
They are born in the air,
must learn to fly before falling
and die also in their flying.
Click here to read the rest of In Flight.
I remember flight,
Rush of cold air,
Banking, turning,
Pulsing with life.
I was a bird,
Gliding on thermals,
Spreading my wings,
Lighter than air.
I remember falling,
Disconnected, unsure,
Turning and spinning,
Landing too soon.
Now I dream:
I fly, rising, soaring,
Lingering in trees,
Connected and warm.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This feather is from a blue jay, and it was 6-7 inches long. Welcome to a new Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Elementary Dear Reader.
Fairy King
Mantled in green and crimson,
Still stiff with winter’s ice,
Silent Fairy King is courted
By ladies in yellow and white.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This poem was inspired by the burgeoning of spring, bolstered by a spring break spent in the garden rather than in DC as planned. I planted pansies, ranunculus, dahlias, elephant ears, butter lettuce, wildfire lettuce and parsley. I noticed the bunnies had nibbled some of my tulips, but they will probably prefer the lettuce. This poem is posted also in honor of Poetry Friday, thanks to No Water River, the picture book and poetry place. If you visit Renee at No Water River, she explains Poetry Friday. I hope you’ll visit her if you like kids poetry.
Lion Alone
winter scarred, care worn
gazing at eternity
lion without pride
remembers school vacation
three playful cubs squabbling
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Hurray for vacation week! Tomorrow is the Boston marathon. Hope you all have a great week. Be healthy and be safe! Warmly, Brenda
Yellowest Green
The yellowest green
Is the daffodil,
One day away from
Letting yellow spill.
What makes the flower
Pick that day to bloom?
The sun’s the power!
And it makes bees zoom.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: My van is mobile, my son’s foot is mending and my novel is submitted. Fingers crossed. Maybe my eyes, too. This poem is to celebrate Poetry Friday, and the warm breeze it’s brought into my life, perfumed with rich words. This week is hosted by Robyn Hood Black, thank you!!
Fairy Squill
Salutations small Siberian Squill,
Rising from the icy dregs of a hill.
Bowing in breezes on a fairy mound,
Its still shadow doesn’t make any sound.
After Lady Winter’s chill ermine shroud,
Its azure beauty makes me sing out loud.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This drooping blue beauty is Scilla siberica, one of the earliest blooming bulbs. I apologize for not having time to comment on posts this week. My van is in the shop, my middle child is on crutches, my novel deadline is looming and I’m nowhere near done. My kids will soon be on spring break. If only I had more time, or more brains or more hands. Something. Meanwhile, at least there’s magic! Hope you have a great week! Warmly, Brenda
Spring a ling!
Spring a ling!
Hear spring sing;
Flower bells ring:
Spring a ling!
Spring a ling!
Spring a ling!
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: We’re hearing it! A few days above 50 and a vast flood of snow melt is all the encouragement these little hardy crocuses needed. My lucky neighbor already has blooms. I hope you’re enjoying National Poetry Month. I am participating in Poetry Friday, organized by Kidlitosphere Central and hosted this week by Laura Purdie Salas at Writing the World for Kids. She has lots of great tips for reading poetry to kids.
Catkin Cold
Catkin young,
Soft, sage and fuzzy,
Catkin brave,
No leaves are open,
Catkin cold,
Snow freezes toes.
Catkin grow!
Early sign of spring.
Catkin open:
When ripe but soon!
Catkin bloom:
Bring back the birds.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Fingers crossed for spring here. Someday soon, we’ll have blooms here, and lots of spring-green shoots! For another catkin poem, see Catkin Fuzzy.
Ghost Leaf
Oak leaf rimed,
Bleached winter white,
Stark skeleton aglow.
A bit of starlight,
Its light grown white,
A transient in the universe,
The writing is plain:
An early calling card
Of Lady Spring’s visit.
Perhaps I’ll pour the tea,
Remembering heat,
Wishing for sunlight.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: I’ll lift my teacup in a toast to Lady Spring, whose velvety green cloak will swirl around us any day. And I’ll dedicate this ghostly post to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by a wonderful children’s poet, Amy Ludwig VanDerwater, at her blog, The Poem Farm. It’s National Poetry Month, and the kidlitosphere is lit by the radiance of many special events, some listed by Jama, the Poetry Potentate. If you like poetry, you can dine until sated this month!
Sycamore at Sunset
Winter light dwindles to a pale sunset.
Sycamore bark peels in patches.
Ever on sentry duty, an eye on the horizon,
Glowing like a desert landscape,
The silent tree watches for
Spring, as winter melts away.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Friendly Fairy Tales 