Pink
Twirl,
Calla curl,
Silky swirl.
Snow may hide
New England’s color,
But trucked-in treasure
Startles and entrances,
My heart dances —
A wild whirl.

Notes:

On the poem: This is a concrete or shape poem, meant in this case to take the shape of a calla lily.

On the weather: We’ve had one day of sunshine, with temperatures above freezing. Old Man Winter is not gone, but at least he’s growing sleepy. The Calla Lilies are from Trader Joe’s, where the floral section is a summer garden. Here is a picture better reflecting what it still looks like outdoors here:

On Poetry Friday: super-late this week, but life gets in the way at times. Thanks to Robyn Campbell, Kids Author and Poet, for hosting!

Posted by

Brenda Davis Harsham

Posted on

January 1, 2015

Posted under

Photography, Poetry

Comments

66 Comments

Found Magic

Sunset-glowing mums
Cast an earthy magic
Over a vanilla day.
My blue mug steams,
The bitter scent of green tea
Mingling with honey’s sweetness.
The calendar suggests newness.
January First: a new morning,
A new chance, a new start, a new dream.
Frozen grass crunches underfoot and
The sky is blue, clear and cold.
My breath steams like my mug:
Superheated for a magical brew,
Making all things seem new.
I resolve to find magic,
In any small detail, new or old,
Find magic and learn to take hold.