Tiny baby tree,
No higher than a fairy’s knee,
What do you see
In that pool of black tea?
Starting out small,
That’s true for me and for all!
Good luck to you,
And to all the other tinies, too.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Tag Archives: Poetry
Blaze of Glory
Oak
Leaves bloom
Fiery Red
Artful couture
Fall
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This poem is a lantern poem (also spelled lanterne), a Japanese form, in the shape of a lantern, with five lines and a syllable count of 1, 2, 3, 4, 1.
It is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
Foggy Bottom
Cold
Misty
Walk beside
Foggy bottom,
Disappearing pond,
Where has all the blue gone?
Birds are silent, and I
Search the shore alone,
People are gone.
No chatter,
Nothing
Found.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This is my version of a Dynamic poem. This form creates a crescendo in two verses with mood and syllable count, starting with a crescendo syllable count, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 then a decrescendo of 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. It’s similar to a ninette, which has the syllable count, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 (see some examples of ninettes here).
Birdbath Central
A still pool of rainwater,
Kissed by garnet and citrine maple leaves,
Reflects the cool Autumn sunshine.
A bluejay shakes his wings,
Scattering crystal gems of water.
Wild turkeys gather fallen seeds below;
Their plumage blends into the
Brown, rust and orange leaves.
A juvenile robin dips a toe and shivers.
The damp smell of wet leaves
Rises into the warming day,
Mingling with the scent of cedar and pine.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Squirrel Superhighway Haiku
Squirrels skitter past
On the treetop Autobahn
Catch a fuzzy glimpse
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Dragon Dreaming
“He had turned into a dragon while he was asleep.
Sleeping on a dragon’s hoard with greedy, dragonish thoughts in his heart,
he had become a dragon himself.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
He napped on the wealth of the world,
The heart of the wildwood beating in his ears,
But his sleep outlasted the wood itself.
Over the years, earth and twigs covered him,
Turning his sunny glade into a fairy mound.
When he woke, his scales were soft as bracket fungus,
And his hide was frayed like the bark of a fallen spruce.
All around him, houses stared down with blank eyes.
A bridge crossed a brook where children swung on bars,
Screamed and chased each other around plastic cars.
The sweet smells of red woolen sweaters, sticky candy fingers,
Grilled cheese breath and ripening juniper berries
Teased his nose, so different than leaf mold and lichen.
He remembered the beating of the wildwood heart,
Loud as thunder, steady as rain, but he could not hear it.
His greedy heart stirred. His claws churned the earth.
Clink, clink, his treasure was safe. Gold gleamed below him.
Its musical ringing soothed him. He remembered winning it,
When the forest were young, kings foolish, and no amount
Of stone or brick could hide the scent of gold from him.
His youthful memories brought dreams and in the gloaming,
He dozed again, his green eyes dimming, his breath stilling.
The woods would return one day: the seeds were there.
The day of the dragon would return with the wildwood.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Were you the kind of child that imagined dragons under the hills and fairies inside the flowers? If not, maybe it’s not too late to be that child now. What would you think about, if you were a dragon awaking in suburbia?
Party with the Late Blooms
Autumn is under way
Come party with the late blooms
Dance till Jack Frost comes
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Despite having snow flurries on Sunday, we still have blooms here and there. This poem is a haiku, with five, seven and five syllables on each line.
Halloween Ballet
Autumn fairy ballet:
Ballerinas dip and spin,
Wings extend lightly and
Long costumes twirl.
A feast for the eyes:
Fall glows in shades of
Butternut squash and pumpkin,
With touches of berry and apple.
The wind lifts the dancers
Into allegro cabrioles, then
Holds another in a graceful arabesque.
The Fae Corps de Ballet
Performs every day.
Happy Halloween! Be spooky and be safe!
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Happy Halloween!
A fright, A scream
Things unseen,
A scary dream,
Happy Halloween!
Halloween is tomorrow, be safe! Be spooky!
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Besties
Best friends:
Together is magic.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Pinking
Bluing makes fabrics bright white,
Pinking makes thinking right:
See a woman in a positive light,
For herself, not as a pretty sight.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This is for Michelle Marie, a single mom, hardworking, talented and full of joyful potential.
Ogden Nashery
Itty bitty, not very pretty,
(Unless to his mama)
Stone silent, not very witty,
But the high hop creates drama;
From the woods not the city
(At least not Yokohama)
Inspires this little ditty
From one who likes to yammah.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Despite my usual inclination that a poet should never explain, for those not from New England, the “yammah” is a Bostonian pronunciation of yammer. My photograph is of a Pinetree Spurthroated Grasshopper (Melanoplus punctulatus), a rare sighting. Not only had I never seen a grasshopper like him before, my research indicated he’s rare in general. My poem is an ode to Ogden Nash, a particular favorite author of my children and I. Here is one of his poems, which I hope offering here, would not have displeased him:
The Ant
The ant has made himself illustrious
Through constant industry industrious.
So what?
Would you be calm and placid,
If you were full of formic acid?
— Ogden Nash
Friendly Fairy Tales 