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June 11, 2015

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Behind the Ferns

Behind the ferns,
A dragon shakes the rain
From golden scales,
Yawns, stretches and
Rises from her rest.
Human eyes are fooled,
By shadow and light,
A color camouflage:
We see only
An iris at its best.

Note: This dragon is dedicated to gardeners, landscapers, garden center owners and nature lovers everywhere. To people whose lives are dedicated to the transient, yet enduring, beauty of nature. If you’ve ever planted a single bulb or watered a houseplant, this is for you, too. And it’s already time for Poetry Friday again! How did that happen so fast? This week is hosted by Jama at Jama’s Alphabet Soup, a haven of tasty poetry.

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

June 3, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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39 Comments

Purple Panoply (Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Purple)

Purple Loosestrife on the river

Butterfly bush longing for a butterfly

Awash in Asters

Two-purple Irises

Deepest Purple Iris

Note: Cee has called for purple this week. Purple Prose is writing that is unnecessarily flowery or ornate. In honor of my purple post, I will write some purple poetry:

Amethyst petals embrace the bee,
stamen and stigma anoint him
delicately
with amber pollen.
The drunken bee flies
erratically,
bringing back dusty manna of
lush lavender, iris,
loosestrife and pine tree,
into the humming hive
far up in the forest canopy.
Are his eyes still full of
wildflower fields and
purple panoply?
The drone
dances in the honeycomb,
transforming
gold dust into honey.
How does the tiny being do it?
What magic knows he
that none of us can see?

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

May 29, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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65 Comments

Azalea Magic

Fallen forsythia sunshine lines my path.
I linger in a bower circled by giant phlox.
Lady Spring casts her spell,
A come-hither invitation to embrace
The wind, scented with lilacs and irises.
Cottonwood fluff tangles in my hair.
Inchworms pulse on invisible silk.
Grass stalks tickle my ankles.
Dandelions smile at bluejays.
Swallows skim empty soccer fields.
Dogs woof and chase squirrels.
Maple leaves dapple the forest path,
Insects munch and rabbits lunch,
But azaleas steal the show.

Note: This poem is a celebration of my morning walk and New England. If you want to join your song to mine, leave a comment here with a link to your favorite poem or join Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Reflections on the Teche. Let your imagination soar and your words fly. Have a great weekend! Warmly, Brenda

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

May 27, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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51 Comments

A Moment to Shine

Troubles drop away,
Luck comes our way,
That’s our moment.
Everything turns out fine.
It’s our moment to shine.
Trouble may make us blue,
But that fades to dark
When we feel the spark.

Note: I’ve had bad years, with rare good moments. And good years with few bad moments. My heart holds onto the good times. I hope yours does, too. This poem was inspired by my latest rejection letter, which was not a shining moment, but another opportunity. Every door that remains shut helps us find the right door.

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

May 25, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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29 Comments

What Peace Looks Like

Lilies of the Valley
Was the scent my grandmother wore.
Her warm hugging arms filled me with
Boundless approval.

The tiny white bells
Remind me of a baby bonnet
And wrappings my children wore
Coming home.

Each spring
The lilies bring back moments
When I was heart-full, cherished and
At peace.

Note: Artists4Peace are taking submissions for June with the theme: What Peace Looks Like. If you want to add your voice, you can find June’s submissions call with one click. Peace is a way of life!

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

May 19, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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15 Comments

Flowers Unlaced, An Invitation

pinwheels of nectar
enjoy their moment in the sun
bees kiss and flirt

gold dusts my skin from
wildflowers unlaced

Note: You are invited to add a haiku or even another tanka in the comments below. For those new to haiku and tanka: they are brief, present-tense observations of the world. They are written as snapshots of moments with meaning. They often relate to nature and the season, in this case spring. A haiku is often framed as three lines with syllables of 5, 7 then 5. A tanka contains the haiku and then two lines of 7 syllables added. These are guidelines, rather than strict rules, and I have seen haiku of only one line. These are the basic rules, but there are many, many more. You can spend a lifetime perfecting poetry, but only if you write it.

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

May 14, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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45 Comments

Spring Rain Crescendo

Raindrops
Rain plops
Plink, plink
Pitter, patter
Crack of thunder
Howling gusts
Shake the windows
Rain drums sideways
Young plants flatten
Trees bend sideways
Dry earth drinks deep
Lemon tulip petals scatter
Blacktop steams and hisses
Pollen washes into soil
Puddles swell to lakes
Wind softens, sighs
Drip, drop, stop
Greens deepen
Flowers glisten
Birds sing
I listen

Note: We are having a dry spring, and we need rain. If we don’t get rain soon, we might be dancing for it like the children in the fairy tale, Rain Dance. This poem is a prayer for rain and a celebration of Poetry Friday, where poetry falls like rain on a dry earth. The host and poetry gathering point this week is Random Noodling. The hostess, Diane, offers a quote by Mark Twain and a poem about sanity. Worth a look! Write a poem for kids or quote one by another, and you can join the fun by visiting and contributing your link. Here is a bonus poem by a favorite author:

April Rain

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby
The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
And I love the rain.

— Langston Hughes

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

May 4, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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34 Comments

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.

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!

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

April 19, 2015

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Photography, Poetry

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29 Comments

Lion Alone

winter scarred, care worn
gazing at eternity
lion without pride

remembers school vacation
three playful cubs squabbling

Note: Hurray for vacation week! Tomorrow is the Boston marathon. Hope you all have a great week. Be healthy and be safe! Warmly, Brenda

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

April 16, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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42 Comments

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.

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!!

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

April 9, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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60 Comments

Spring a ling!

Spring a ling!
Hear spring sing;
Flower bells ring:
Spring a ling!
Spring a ling!
Spring a ling!

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.

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Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

April 4, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

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49 Comments

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.

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.