Happy May Day! My daughter sent this message in our text group: “Friday the first of May is the most powerful day of 2026 so far…strongest full moon and it’s when the Fire horse begins galloping so it will force you to get rid of what you no longer need in your life bc Fire horse can’t gallop with baggage.”
Firehorse postcard from Tricia Stohr Hunt
I worked with first graders this week in a workshop called “Chalkabration.” I think I love first graders. We wrote poems with the line “Summer is…” using all of the senses, “I hear…I see…”
Today is also the first Friday of the month which means Inklings Challenge. Heidi challenged us to “Celebrate May by writing a poem that Maykes use of the verbs may, might, could, can, ought.”
First Graders Cheat at Mother, May I
When lines are drawn rules are made, Or where there’s an “ought to” seven year olds will push, split, cross, test. Mother nature made us to question boundaries, “Who am I?” A galloping competitor or a friendly companion?
The Progressive Poem is new hit wonder of The Land of Poetry. See the final poem here.
If you are interested in purchasing a copy of What’s That Sound? Birds of the Bayou, please send me a comment or email. Amazon has messed up the photo for the book, so I’d rather you not purchase from them. We’ve tried avenues to fix this with no help from the Amazonians.
Map by Tabatha Yeatts with place names added by Progressive Poem participants.
I have been leading the Kidlit Poets in organizing the Progressive Poem for six years. I was worried about the poem this year because I only had 27 days covered. Tabatha Yeatts stepped up to save the day. Not only did she start us off with a painted map and first line, she volunteered to round out the poem in a complete quatrain on April 28. I had to be OK with only 28 lines. I am more than OK. I am thrilled with the resulting poem. I will post it here and archive it on my blog.
The Land of Poetry
On my first trip to the Land of Poetry, I saw anthologies of every color, tall as buildings. A world of words, wonder on wings, waiting just for me! Birding for words shimmering, flecked in golden gilding.
Binoculars ready, I toured boulevards and side streets, exploring vibrant verses, verses so honest and tender. feathery lyrics, bright flitting avian athletes soaring ‘cross pages in rhythmic splendor.
In the Land of Poetry, I am the conductor, seeking oodles of poems that tug at my heart, a musical medley of sound and structure, An open mic in Frost Forest! Wonder who’ll take part?
There’s a pause in the program; no one takes the stage the trees quiver, the audience looks up. Raven lands, singing Earth’s message of the sage. “Poetry in motion will be forevermore, from forests to sands.”
“Scatter,” she croaked. “Beyond Wilde Pond, to each and every beach.” Meek Dove mustered courage and sang, “Instill humanity with compassion and peace. Let Thackeray’s middle name, from this thicket, hearts reach!” Her gentle coo-ooo-ooos reverberate, soft as fleece.
Words dart, dimple—Do I dare warble what’s in my soul? I’ve inhaled inspiration…yes, I’ll risk my refrain. I fly to the mic, chanting “Tadpole, mole and oriole! Come all living beings from water, land, air; come high and low terrains!
Come, living your poems, hearts open, ablaze, Sing out your noise, adding to our forest-filling chorus! Together. Empowered. Our choir conveys,“Why poetry? Words transform and restore us!”
Thank you to everyone who contributed to this year’s poem:
As we come to the end of National Poetry Month, I want to thank everyone who has taken time to read, contemplate, and add a line to our collaborative poem. Each of you thought deeply and utilized your best rhythm and rhyme and other marvelous poetic devices. The community of poets lifts me up and holds me steady in these days of hopelessness and senseless violence.
Yesterday on Ethical ELA, Jessica Sherburn prompted us to write instructions for writing a poem. What would your instructions be for spending time in The Land of Poetry?
Instructions for Turning a List into a Poem
Find your glasses.
Block out the sound of the song in your head.
On second thought, play the song to the end; there may be a poem hiding there.
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Irene Latham at Live Your Poem.
National Poetry Month has been a whirlwind. It’s hard to believe we are nearing the end. Our Progressive Poem is progressing along with another line; See Mary Lee’s post here to catch up. Tabatha will end it for us on April 28th.
I accepted a challenge from Joyce Uglow to write among other poets at her Substack, Storied Ink. I’m also writing with Ethical ELA and having a dickens of a time memorizing the New York Times poem “The More Loving One” by W. H. Auden. It’s all good but sometimes overwhelming. I think I’ll take a break in May!
On Day 3, poet Kathy Halsey challenged us with a haiku image and the words extinct and giraffe. I thought about how the cypress trees of the Atchafalaya Swamp were near extinction from over-harvesting. These trees are made to survive high winds of hurricanes. I love my cypress trees, especially in early spring as the green is so vivid.
Tall swamp giraffes Cypress grass tickles the sky Extinct no more (Photos from my bayou backyard cypress trees)
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
My grandson Leo is in first grade. Wait? What? Time flies, doesn’t it? He is a little sponge absorbing all of the learning. He doesn’t even realize how fast he is developing his verbal skills, but as a teacher and proud grandmother, I am keenly aware.
His mother has always been good about thank you notes. She’s passing that on to her children. He wrote me a thank you note for his Easter gift, but he wrote it on the envelope and put another envelope inside it for me to write back.
His misspelling of thank you to “think you” charmed my husband to say, “You should write him a think you note.”
Who knows if our correspondence will continue, but I wrote him a note about what I was thinking about. (I should have taken a photo.) And enclosed a self-addressed envelope.
Leo’s “think” you note
I am writing poetry this month with Ethical ELA. Today’s prompt from Sharon Roy inspired us to write haiku about reading. I am reading Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. It’s my book companion when I can’t sleep, so I found this haiku.
Through my sleeplessness gravity of rivers flow hidden life below.
The Progressive Poem is with Irene Latham, originator of the idea, at Live Your Poem.
Heidi is hosting Poetry Friday this week and she shares a video conversation she recorded of Jone MacCulloch, Heidi Mordhorst, and me talking about our teaching artist experience. Please click this link to check it out.
A big thank you to Heidi Mordhorst for hosting today and for taking the time and energy to create a video about our work with students as teaching artists. I learned so much from Jone and Heidi that I hope to add to my repertoire of workshops.
National Poetry Month is moving along in starts and stops for me. One day the words come, the next I look at a page full of senseless scribbles. I am trying to respond daily to the Ethical ELA VerseLove prompts. Yesterday, Stacey Joy of California prompted us to write an etheree. I wrote once again about wood ducks. (I have a whole book of poems about the Wood Duck house) Our first clutch hatched and fledged, so we have another hen coming in. I am endlessly fascinated by them.
When eastern sunlight gleams a beam across greening cypress trees, another wood duck hen flies in, wiggles her belly beginning a new clutch to watch in hope for new life to lay waiting. Cycle of birth always a miracle.
Margaret Simon, draft
The Kidlit Progressive Poem took a surprising turn this week with a Poetry Slam! Check out today’s line with Robyn Hood Black.
Tabatha Yeatts has graciously offered to end the poem on April 28th. She had the beginning line and is the creator of the map.
I love April! The days start out cool and warm up, but a gentle breeze keeps the heat tolerable. On Sunday, we canoed with friends to the park where there was a symphony concert. The paddling to get there was made harder by the breeze, but we were able to make it just in time for the concert.
On the way, we spotted this Muscovy duck and her babies. The Muscovy is a domestic duck with a warty red bill. Her littles were adorable scrambling around her so quickly that I couldn’t count them.
My quick internet research said, “Aztec rulers wore cloaks made from the feathers of the Muscovy duck, which was considered the totem animal of the Wind God, Ehecatl.” (All about Birds)
At Ethical ELA, Erica Johnson is leading us in writing a “Playful Cascade” which is a poem form that takes each line of the first stanza making them the last line of the next stanzas. I decided to use tercets, 3 lines per stanza.
Muscovy Ducklings Play
Scrambling fluffs navigate water hyacinth staying in sight of mother duck— gymnasts in a bayou playground.
We slowly push along stroke by stroke keeping watch for new spring life, see scrambling fluffs navigate water hyacinth.
Whose waters are these, I think I know: these tiny ducklings move so quick staying in sight of mother duck.
This journey we share is not all ease. Time and patience required, we are all gymnasts in a bayou playground.
Margaret Simon, draft
Please join me in writing about this little miracle of life. Be sure to leave encouraging words for other writers.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
“I hate writing. I love having written.” Rick Bragg said to an attentive audience in downtown New Iberia. How does he know how it feels every time I open my blog space to write a Slice of Life? Even the most accomplished writers struggle with a blank page.
This past weekend was the 10th annual literary festival in our small town. And it was a full on fun party. I have been meeting once monthly with the implementation team and have marveled at the organizational skills and seeming calm of our volunteers.
On Friday night the skies opened up and poured on the outdoor evening dinner, but there were umbrellas and good food, so no one’s spirits were dampened.
On Saturday morning, we danced at the Beignets and Beats Breakfast.
I sold books.
We danced again. Exhausted we brought home the prize for “Smooth Moves” from the small dance competition.
For a small town, New Iberia is mighty! The 10th annual Books along the Teche Literary Festival was a success. Y’all come next year!
Follow the Progressive Poem. Links in the sidebar. Today’s line is with Jone MacCulloch.
So grateful to have Margaret host me again this year and for continuing to host the Progressive Poem! I always look forward to seeing how our poem develops. Like its Progressive Supper inspiration, it leads to appetizing anticipation, variety, community and feeds our souls, too. Makes it exciting as we watch the poem evolve, and finally we get to enjoy that delicious dessert. Thank you to all KidLit Poetry Friday Blogosphere poets for your many posts and continued commitment to bringing so much poetry to all. Margaret’s line opened ideas and I wavered between taking a train ride or leading a symphony, but the search for fantastic poems of all kinds seemed to call me.
Janet Clare Fagal
Here is the poem with my line added at the end:
On my first trip to the Land of Poetry, I saw anthologies of every color, tall as buildings. A world of words, wonder on wings, waiting just for me! Birding for words shimmering, flecked in golden gilding.
Binoculars ready, I toured boulevards and side streets, exploring vibrant verses, verses so honest and tender. feathery lyrics, bright flitting avian athletes soaring ‘cross pages in rhythmic splendor.
In the Land of Poetry, I am the conductor, seeking oodles of poems that tug at my heart
(I left the punctuation for my line to the next poets.)
Next up is Diane Davis at Starting Again in Poetry. The full schedule is in the sidebar. If you are interested in participating, please leave a comment. There are 3 days left. Thanks, Janet for the word oodles and keeping our poem close to our hearts.
The Kidlit Progressive Poem is here today. Tabatha started us off not only with a first line, but also with a beautiful map. Donna added place names to the map. Each year I am awed by the creativity that plays with this poem. The poem has taken on an ABAB, CDCD rhyme scheme. I’m happy that I don’t have to rhyme; I’ve been gifted the first line of stanza 3.
If you are reading and following, please come back to this site tomorrow for Janet’s line. Also, there are still 3 days left to participate. If I don’t fill those last three days, we will end the poem on April 27th.
The Land of Poetry
On my first trip to the Land of Poetry, I saw anthologies of every color, tall as buildings. A world of words, wonder on wings, waiting just for me! Birding for words shimmering, flecked in golden gilding.
Binoculars ready, I toured boulevards and side streets exploring vibrant verses, verses so honest and tender, feathery lyrics, bright flitting avian athletes soaring ‘cross pages in rhythmic splendor.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She is a retired elementary gifted teacher who writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 