The colors of life,
of all things growing,
form a complex rainbow
in any season.
They linger as autumn
slips seamlessly into winter. Continue reading
Tag Archives: seasons
Vibrant all Year – WPC
Dryad’s Eye
Sky gray as grave wrappings,
day dawns with the sullens.
Sodden leaf mold mingles
with the scent of coming snow.
Silent crows are drenched and dismal,
staring into the storm’s eye.
Oak leaves, brown and wilted,
make a damp chatter, as if they gossip.
Even the dryad shivers,
lissome and fair but cold in there.
She turns a shoulder to the icy wind
and hoodwinks the honest earth
into seeing a magic eye appear
gathering the light, shedding no tear.
The luminous gaze falls on the smallest
child, hopeful of seeing the first
snowflake spiral like a fallen star.
No frown can stay down in
the presence of wonder and hope.
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: A dryad is a nymph or goddess of a tree, often an oak. I make reference to a Sylvia Plath poem, On the Difficulty of Conjuring Up a Dryad, in which conjuring, Plath fails. Her “tree stays tree” no matter how she wrenches “obstinate bark and trunk/ To [her] sweet will”. Is she disappointed or triumphant when “no luminous shape/ Steps out radiant in limb, eye, lip,/ To hoodwink the honest earth which pointblank/ Spurns such fiction/ As nymphs”? She then observes that her cold vision “will have no counterfeit/ Palmed off on it.” My imagination is of a different sort than hers today. Where my eye scans, I see magic. May you have a magical day.
Connection
Connection,
reconnection,
lines entwined, aligned.
Squirrels use superhighways, and
information zips sideways.
Talk is the tendency when
winter’s in ascendancy.
Messages zing with arctic air.
Yet, summer’s there
in buds drowsing,
a promise of carousing
when summer’s scent
will rise from each branch, bent
from the memory of
winter’s icy love.
Seasons circle and dance,
hypnotic with romance.
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: Are you finding the magic in the season? It’s harder in the winter doldrums, but keep your spirits up, the days are getting longer already! Cast your eyes on a Scottish stone circle formed from the earth’s oldest rock, and you’ll see winter romance, indeed, thanks to Seonaid at breathofgreenair.
Gray Magic
Tinge of gray
on evergreen,
sparkly spray,
icy and clean,
fairy frost,
silver dance.
Summer’s lost
in hoary trance.
Winter sleep
casts its spell.
Blankets deep,
warm us well.
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes:
Cold has tinged New England with silver. It’s the time of year to burrow under blankets or duvet. I hope you’re warm and cozy. My favorite thing to do this time of year is sleep late. What’s yours?
Happy Poetry Friday to all kid litters! Thanks to Tabatha Yeatts for hosting this week at the Opposite of Indifference. Thanks for reminding us that the “opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference.” ~ Elie Wiesel
Trees and Memories
Here in the woods,
the light doesn’t quite shine.
In the deeper quiet, I
hear only the wind and
the laughter of leaves.
The sunshine is distant.
Here in the twilight,
I can think my thoughts,
without its brightness,
blinding my eyes.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This poem is part of a longer poem. Is there a place where you can be yourself? Where you can be free, use your outdoor voice, sing or dance or remember?
Season of Thanks
Thankful for summer —
fragrant with cottage roses
climbing a stone wall.
Thankful for autumn’s
brilliant multi-colored leaves
that spin, curl and fall.
Thankful for winter —
sledding and skating on mill ponds,
made smooth with ice.
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.
Purple Sage
fragrant leaves
rough with musky spice
song of summer
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: This is a good-bye to my herb garden, which spiced my soups and stews this summer and fall. Pictured are two varieties of purple sage, which are not culinary. I also grow lavender, green sage, thyme, oregano, basil, parsley, tarragon, mint, chives and rosemary. When my herb garden goes dormant for winter, I’ll be waiting for spring. Only the basil and rosemary won’t come back.
Finding Red
A toddler oak glints like rubies.
Too young for acorns, trunk,
Or boughs, just a sprig,
a sprout, a snip of joy,
with earth between its toes,
it has unfolded proudly.
Its leaves flower in fall,
alight, aglow, aflame,
crimson with yearning for spring.
Its sire has amber leaves and brown
scattered about the ground.
Does the tiny tree dread
gale force winds, ice and snow
more than its older kin?
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Red Maple Tanka
flight
one perfect moment
remembered
fingers curled in longing
to relive one’s height
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Do you have one time in your life you would relive if you could?
Leaves Rain
leaves rain
tree tears spiral and tumble
mourning summer
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Travel theme: Off-Centre
Winter
Spring
Summer
Fall
Note: This celebration of the seasons is inspired by Ailsa at Where’s My Backpack. She offered a fun quote by George Carlin: Think off-center. Achieving balance despite being off-center is one of my aims. Do you think I managed even though my subjects are off-center? My theme is in honor of the seasons because we are nearly in-between, moving here from spring to summer in a few days.
in-between
off-center
but in balance
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
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