Bound by the shared weight of winter,
the empty bird feeder and I
let down our neighbors, as our emptiness
lets in the cold, the sleet and the
wet indifference of early snowfall.
Where is our divinity, our seed,
our stored warmth and harvest? Continue reading →

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

October 18, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

Comments

49 Comments

Autumn Honey

Do rusty blooms taste bittersweet,
of summer gone, left incomplete?
Thick stems are braced for swirls
from wind, even hurricanes whirls.
Honey formed on shortening days
might fizz, pop and amaze.
Will a bit smeared on bread
come with warnings of danger ahead?
Perhaps tea sweetened with that nectar
would raise an unholy specter,
a white vision of winter coming,
icy, pale dreams thrumming.
I recklessly stir it into a cup,
unafraid of what might turn up.
The stillness of a perfect day
belies the storms headed this way.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

August 8, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

Comments

25 Comments

Mountain Cloudburst

Tears fall from dark clouds,
spit spatter splash!
Thunder rip roars!
Wipers swish swash!
Fog swirls on the mountainside
then descends like ghostly legions.
Blue mountains disappear
behind a blurry sky.
Whoosh,
the car emerges
into sunshine.
Only the leaves prove
the rain danced.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

May 14, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

Comments

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

February 8, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

Comments

43 Comments

Wild and Stormy

Snow creatures fly through the night,
Swat the tree and stick there tight.
The storm is wild; the creatures light.
Next day they remain, mossy and white.

Note: I hope to catch up on your blog posts tomorrow when my traveling is done. Hope you have a great week ahead, all my friends! Warmly, Brenda

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

January 28, 2015

Posted under

Humor, Photography, Poetry

Comments

53 Comments

Now You See It, Now You Don’t

Here is the bench before the Nor’easter,

And where is the bench now?

Now you see it, now you don’t!
Mother Nature’s sleight of hand
Is more magical than any of man.
What could be hiding under there?
Perhaps a family of icy hedgehogs
And a passing brownie sipping chai.
Under the bench, they stop to say Hi,
Peeking out at other passers-by.

Note: New England was blessed with over two feet of snow in 24 hours and two snow days! We shoveled four times. We went sledding twice. We had one epic snowball battle. We drank hot chocolate with friends. We had a weekend in the middle of the week! Stay warm! 🙂 School is on again tomorrow.

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

January 6, 2014

Posted under

Poetry

Comments

31 Comments

Grasses Sing Haiku

snowflakes fly sideways
grasses sing in the fierce wind
nature bows to storm

Note: Embracing the classical beginnings of haiku, as this author understands them, and as described in the post: Carpe Diem Goes Back to Its Roots #4 by Carpe Diem Haiku Kai. I cannot hope to explain haiku better, so I just link in zen appreciation. Peace and Joy!