On this rainy day,
Cold damp enters the stem,
Stiffening the buds.
Red veins dry to yellow.
Petals close tightly,
Waiting for the sun.
Waiting for the bees.
Waiting for the children.
Tag Archives: Poetry
Silver Naiad Reflections
Silver Birch,
Forever dancing,
Wet roots deep, holding fast,
Trunk curved
Toward the far bank,
Always gazing across the way.
Silver Naiad,
Still and thoughtful,
Wet feet, connected to earth,
Body curved
Toward the water,
Gazing always toward Olympus.
Note: This poem is dedicated to Line, a magical being, eyes ever upward, wings brushing our cheeks with joy.
Hectic Mountain Laurel
The invisible spring wind
Shakes silky blooming branches
And tastes sweet flower petals.
The flower fairy fragrance swirls.
The tallest branches dance,
Encircle the sun, hug the wind.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Longing for Daffodils
In Winter, I long
for color and flowers.
In Spring, I yearn
For Wordsworth.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
_______________________________________
Do you have a magic moment that fills your heart with joy at the memory? I will share one of mine with you. Years before we had kids, my husband and I shared papaya, salmon and pineapple sushi, on a balcony overlooking the pool at the Kauai Marriott Resort, which was on the ocean. If you want to see what it looked like, the Marriott site has lots of pictures. The sushi was the best I had ever tasted. I have many more, too, and I hope you do, too.
Warmly, Brenda
References:
Infernal Internal Poem: Fae Clan
Blue with missing sun’s hue,
Forlorn fungus is winter worn.
Spring, its insides begin to zing —
Humongous will grow the fungus.
See some color in the woods like me,
Hiding fairies will be giggling, gliding.
Pearly wings beat, sending air whirling.
Can you hear them? They are the Fae Clan!
Thin hibernating animals can now grin,
Food is aplenty, no time to brood.
Fairies plan to gather and be merry:
Sharing, dancing, laughing, caring.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: The Infernal Internal is a new poetry form I created. The first and last words within each line rhyme.
Visual Haiku: Shadow Painting
When Children Laugh, Angels Smile
Here are some rhymes that speak to my inner child, playing in the garden with fairies. I hope you like them! My kids and I are enjoying vacation week! I’ll try hard to catch up with everyone next week. My reader has been losing my likes again! Have a magical long weekend!! Warmly, Brenda
Cherry Intoxication
Drunk with cherry blossom aroma,
The tiniest fairy weaves a crooked path,
Skating down pink branches and
Leaping petal to petal, wings beating happily.
The pollen coats her so thickly,
The bees start to pursue her.
She shimmers into her other form.
A pale white butterfly flutters
Where once a tiny girl with wings flew.
The bees give up the chase,
Turnings back to the cherry blooms,
Here for such a short time.
Erratically, the fae-butterfly flies,
Lighting finally on a juniper bush.
She changes back to a young girl,
Sipping nectar from the blue dew-cones.
Her transparent wings flitter, flutter.
Then on into spring she adventures.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Triquain: Hyacinth
Hyacinth:
Flowers bow to morning,
Embracing hope for a warm spring,
Ready to rise up and have some fun in the sun,
Celebrating the warming spring days,
Dancing with new tulips:
Reverent.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: The triquain is a 7-line poem with syllables increasing then decreasing by threes: 3, 6, 9, 12, 9, 6, and 3. Longer versions and complicated repeating content are also common flavors, but I chose to keep it simple for my first try. This was inspired by the Paint Your World with Words Weekly Poetry Prompt, Triquain.
Happy Earth Day!!
Earth Day could be Ocean Day, since the earth is 71 percent water by surface area. The Pacific Ocean alone covers nearly a third of the planet!! New England is merely a small smear on the coast of one continent, and my home just a tiny pinprick. And yet, my small neighborhood yields such beauty, especially considering it snowed last week.
Earth Day is April 22, and the first was in 1970 in the U.S. The U.S. holiday was meant to create a focal point for environmental awareness, because of the mess business interests had made of our land and waterways. Now, more than a billion people in 180 nations across the world celebrate Earth Day. Many people celebrate by planting trees, bushes or flowers. Many companies celebrate by starting recycling campaigns or cleanup initiatives.
I plan to celebrate by walking in the woods and by sharing this song of awe.
Planet of Connection
On a quiet day, nothing moves.
Yet, the earth flies around the sun
Faster than a bullet speeding from a gun.
Molten rock seethes deep in its inner core,
Air is hot at the equator but frozen at the poles.
Geysers spout, mountains fall,
Rivers carve stone and move ships.
Water is moving, as is the wind, the air
And the earth itself: tectonic plates shifting,
Earthquakes and weather spiraling.
The Moon pulls the life-filled oceans
Into ceaseless waves, even while lighting the night,
And aligning rhythms deep inside each of us.
Our blood and breath, always moving,
Like our thoughts, never still.
We are all connected, and yet
We are all separate, each mind alone.
The same elements make up each of us.
Whatever our color, religion or location.
We are all stardust, water and earth.
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
References: http://www.slate.com/blogs/bad_astronomy/2014/04/22/earth_day_2014_a_few_fun_facts_about_our_planet.html
http://abclocal.go.com/wls/story?section=news/local/illinois&id=9511926
http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2014/04/140421-earth-day-2014-facts-environment-epa/
Candy Dish Haibun
Some people can’t believe in themselves until someone else believes in them first.
— Good Will Hunting
My grandmother had a small two-bedroom apartment on the second floor of a building in Youngstown, Ohio. My parents would drop me off for a visit, and Grandma Myers and I would spend several days, just the two of us. We would visit Mill Creek Park and walk through the extensive flower gardens.
Each visit, I would perch on one of her two couches, and look through old loose photographs, older generations of Shumakers and Myers intermingling with newer ones in the disorganized drawer of her breakfront. She would sit beside me, naming people, so that I learned my family’s faces without ever meeting most of them. After several years, I knew who they all were myself. I loved looking through those photographs, most of them black and white, seeing my mother as she grew up.
On Grandma’s coffee table was a candy dish, full of colorful, hard candies. Some were in clear wrappers and some were wrapped to resemble strawberries. I would eye her candy dish, but she never invited me to have one. One day, when we were talking about going to visit her sister, she noticed me eying her leaf-shaped candy dish.
“I always keep candy here,” she said, smelling sweetly of perfume and talcum powder, wearing a belted dress. “I told your mother that the candy was for guests, and she never touched a single piece. I was very proud of her for resisting the candy.” My grandmother fixed her hazel eyes on me, behind their cat shaped glasses. She looked at me a while in silence, to see if I understood what she was saying.
I thought over her words. She was not inviting me to eat the candy. Rather, she was suggesting I should not eat any of it at all. I thought this was a bit cruel, and I was sad at first. I realized that my not eating the candy was very important to her, and so I did not eat one piece. We dropped the subject, and I never asked her for any.
When my grandmother’s niece came for a visit, she offered her and her daughter Becky a piece of candy. Becky was near my age, and she happily unwrapped one and popped it in her mouth. I was jealous for few seconds. But then I was proud. I realized that I was not a guest in Grandma’s house. I was family; I belonged.
After a while, I hardly noticed the candy dish, and I did not feel tempted by it. Her eyes gleamed with approval in the evenings, when she would look at it, and notice it was still full.
Looking back, over the long years, I realize she taught me willpower. I would not have believed I could be in the room with candy and not eat a single bit. My stepmother used to hide snickers bars, not trusting any of us, but I knew from the clink of the good flatware that she had hidden them in the dining room buffet. My grandmother left candy out in plain sight, and there it stayed. She believed in me, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. I still look at that hard candy in stores, knowing it’s not for me. I can live without it.
old apple tree
wide branches slow the wind
bulbs bloom above roots
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Inspired by the Haibun Thinking, Quote Week.
Happy Easter!
May the flowers be blooming
No thorny troubles looming
No loved ones glooming
Joy and love finding room in
Bird song and kitten crooning
Ears hear only colorful sound
Where imagination is found
Tight bindings are unbound
Old deadwood is downed
Magnolias bloom all round
Returning geese take wing
Making ever-young hearts sing
Spring music makes hips swing
Spinning lovers into a highland fling
In an enchanted fairy ring
Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham
Friendly Fairy Tales 