Years long past we two,
Racing to grow fast, taller,
Siblings of the heart.
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Tag Archives: Tree
Picture haiku: rowan
A wonderful green haiku that made me stop, think and smile. I hope you like the poem and photo. They are from Grumpytyke, and the name of the blog also made me smile. Have great weeks everybody! Warmly, Brenda
Green satiated
Winter songsters’ sanguine store
Shiver prophesy
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Changes Coming Haiku
This newest Haiku is dedicated to all of you, my readers, who have supported and encouraged me over the last miraculous seven months! I am redesigning the appearance of friendlyfairytales. I plan to use a more customizable theme, primarily to celebrate nature more. The new appearance will be more simple and clean, I hope. Please do give me feedback.
Also, I have two Halloween stories coming in the second half of October! Thrills and chills await you, should your path cross here again soon!
Without further delay, Changes Coming Haiku:
Grown no longer new
Something new comes from the old
New growth embraced, held.
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Nature Inspires Haiku
Nature Sanctuary
Beautiful nature,
Awed life thrives, inspires kindness,
Humbled Selflessness.
Scarlet Autumn
This poem is dedicated to all the staff, administrators, fundraisers, planners, donors, Audubon members, environmentalists, activists and legislators who support our nature sanctuaries and parkland, the preservation of which make all our lives more rich, full of beauty and peaceful.
This poem is presented in honor of wePoets Show It, a great on-line forum sharing and showcasing poetry, art and creative talent, and is prepared from their Wednesday wordcloud writing prompt. Thanks wePoets for all you do!!
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Summer suspended
A delightful riff on my autumnal music, here is the fairy of disenchantment’s magical take on fall. 🙂 Hugs all around, Brenda
Sprite Spite
A new Adventurous Fairy Tale, named Sprite Spite, is now available to read. An excerpt follows:
Sprite Spite
Wings swiftly beating, Amadou dodged saplings and swung wide around old soul trees, the wind pulling his curly, brown hair straight back. He felt the tree spirits slumbering in the cool midday, their leaves turning golden shades of autumn.
Amadou had been unfurling fiddlehead ferns all morning, and he needed to blow off steam. He was looking for a wide ledge of fungus, just the right height above the ferns. He could see it in his mind’s eye. That day, rain had created the perfect conditions. Diving sprites give a tremendous scream, arch their backs gracefully, wings folded. Then they take a running jump from the fungus ledge, falling through the thick, damp air, eventually bouncing from fern to fern and water slalom skiing in the dew on their tiny feet.
To continue reading, click on Sprite Spite.
Used with permission of acuriousgal
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Some photographs used with kind permission of acuriousgal, a very talented photographer.
Ode to a Mushroom — Concrete Poetry
Shroom
MushrooM
rising up in the dark,
cap of a wood elf caught
under the trees on a fallen log,
dirty,
damp,
musty
smell,
wiped
clean,
fried in
butter,
divine.
Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham
Mushroom Condos
“Oh no, not Mushroom Condo Village!” Fingle Daggadar Northstar said to his mother, Jin-Jangle Northstar, Fae-Mayor of Rushing Fairy Glen.
“Dear, you’ll have to live somewhere if you go off on your own.” Jin-Jangle said.
“But just look at them. Tiny, some of them are just barely taller than me!”
“Finn, darling, just live at home while you study toxicity eliminicity in Twist Trunk University.”
“Oh, mom, only dorkus fairistinkers live at home while they go to TTU.”
Rose Fairy finds a Family
Each fairy breath of summer,
as it blows with loveliness,
inspires the blushing rose.
— Unknown
On the day Rose Fairy was born, a young family picnicked in the sunshine. Their chubby firstborn, Barnabus, wore a solemn smile and chewed on his fist. Then his father slipped on the stony ground, and fell smack, bang, boom on the ground with an “Ooof!” that could be heard for miles.
Barnabus’s mom cried out, “Charles, dear, are you okay? Is anything hurt?”
“My pride!” Barnabus’s dad answered with a hand rubbing his bottom, where he landed on the rocks, and straightening his glasses.
Barnabus removed his fist from his mouth, and drew in a deep breath.
The Birthday and the Troll
A Dance for Tomorrow by Alf Sukatmo
Satri knew that walking deep into the mangrove forest by himself was not allowed. Sometimes the noise of his six brothers grew too loud for him to hear his own thoughts. He was careful not to let Raksasa or Manu see him going. The twins were the eldest, and always acted as if they were the bosses of the other 5 brothers. All of them except Manu called the oldest Raksasa behind his back, because he was huge and tall, like a towering giant. He also had the quickest fists, so the brothers were careful to call him Jay to his face.
Satri slid away while Raksasa and Manu were fighting with Ragawan, the second youngest, who had taken out a trumpet and was blowing it as loudly and discordantly as he could. Widagdya and Lintang were beating drums. Wijah was laughing and dancing on his hands, a trick all the boys could do. Wijah, third youngest and three years older than him, was his best friend amongst the brothers, but today he really wanted to be alone.
Deep into the mangroves, Satri wove his way along narrow paths, leaving behind him the din of his older brothers. He stepped carefully over tree roots, skirting pools of water washed up from the Java Sea, never far away on this island. He ducked under low branches, moving softly in hopes of seeing a monitor lizard or a golden ring snake. The sun was shining, the light dappled under the trees, and the sea breeze blowing across the Thousand Islands cooled the air. The birds were silent. He saw nothing. That should have given him pause, warned him of what was to come. However, he was too grateful for the quiet to heed its warning.
Nana Knows
“Nana, where do the fairies hide?” Jana sprinkled water on the potted flowers with her red watering can.
“Dearest, they could be in the darkest parts of the pine tree. Between rocks in walls, in the curl of an unopened flower or in the wrinkled bark of a tree.”
Jana looked carefully in all those places, even peering into the furled petals of flowers, but nowhere did she see shimmering wings or shining faces. Then she lifted the leaves of a hosta just opening its white trumpets.
Namaste to the Trees
“You’re swaying,” Jenna said to her big sister Elaine. Elaine was standing on one foot, with her right foot on the opposite leg and her hands in front of her chest, as if praying.
“I’m balancing.” Elaine responded peacefully, raising her face to the sun shining on the deck and bringing her arms up like tree branches. Jenna liked that Elaine never got mad at her. Sometimes big people got mad at her unexpectedly. “This is tree pose,” Elaine continued. “Want to try?”
Friendly Fairy Tales 