I’ve joined in with a group of poets on social media writing to #inktober word prompts. It’s a great way to jot a little poem that keeps creative juices flowing. On Thursdays, Laura Purdie Salas faithfully posts an image prompt for 15 words or less. This week I used her photo of a red blooming tree and the inktober word, dizzy, to create an autumn haiku. Canva is my go-to site for creating image poems. Follow my posts on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. And join in the fun!
My new middle grade novel, Sunshine, is available on Amazon. I can’t wait to open the box of books coming soon. See a review here.
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This fall has been slow in coming. The leaves are changing, the days are shorter, but the temperatures are not cooling off much. It makes it hard to get into the mood of autumn. I got a little help from Georgia Heard. She has a sweet poem from Falling Down the Page called Recipe for Writing an Autumn Poem.
Recipe for Writing An Autumn Poem
by Georgia Heard One teaspoon wild geese. One tablespoon red kite. One pint trembling leaves. One quart darkening sky. One gallon north wind.
This is a wonderful prompt to use with kids.
I decided to combine this poetry prompt with the National Writing Project and NCTE’s Day on Writing prompt #WhyIWrite.
Recipe for Why I Write
One teaspoon clean paper One tablespoon colored ink One cup imagination One pint relationship One quart dedication One gallon liberation
An empty page invites color, lines, words, sentences which become an expression of emotion looking for connection. This relationship is rocky, requiring dedication. But one thing is certain: The freedom to write belongs to everyone!
Margaret Simon, (c) 2019
Jaden responded with a beautiful recipe for writing.
A Recipe for Writing a Poem
by Jaden, 4th grade
One teaspoon of creative minds One tablespoon of repeating and rhyming words One cup of a magic image One pint of dazzled emotion One quart of comparing things with like and as And one gallon of my heart
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In early September, my middle daughter gave birth to precious Thomas. She asked me, and I quickly agreed to travel with her to Monroe in North Louisiana for a leadership program meeting with the Louisiana Tourism Association. She is still on maternity leave, but she didn’t want to miss this meeting. What’s more important than being grandma? So I took a few days off to go with her.
I thought I would be stuck in a hotel room, that I may get some reading, writing, and lesson planning done. I was pleasantly surprised by a park connected to the parking lot of the hotel. With the baby in the stroller, we headed out to the trail.
The beauty of this fall day greeted me with a cool breeze and sunlight through the trees.
Red spider lilies dotted the path.
Baby Thomas slept through the outdoor adventure, the first of many to come.
A lone egret looked at its reflection in the lily-covered swamp.
I read the kiosk to learn about this beautiful, wild park. For 50 years, the area had been a sand and gravel pit. Later, many residents used it as a dumping ground. What do you do with such an eyesore? The city of West Monroe excavated the trash and created a wild space, restoring the area to wetlands that accomplish a number of goals, controlling flooding as well as providing the community with a beautiful place of nature to enjoy. Not to mention, a place of peace for a grandma and baby grandson.
Every week I am delighted to visit The Poem Farm. Amy Ludwig VanDerwater posts a poem and a student writing activity. A few weeks ago, I borrowed this post, The Real Me, and wrote I am poems with my students.
My students loved the activity. Many of them chose to post their poems on our kidblog site. I invited Amy to write comments. You should have heard them reading aloud their personalized comments; the pride in their voices made my heart sing. Amy has a talent for connecting to kids and finding just the right words to say. Thanks, Amy.
I wrote alongside my students. I put together my favorite lines to create this poem:
I am a lionness set in the stars, that drumbeat around a warm campfire.
I am a longing look from a silent child, a melody strummed on his guitar.
I am a secret scratched on a yellow sticky note. Don’t tell anyone who I am.
Sunshine, the sequel to my first middle grade novel Blessen is coming soon from Border Press. I published Blessen in 2012 and began writing this sequel. I’m excited that her story with Sunshine, her new hen, and Harmony, a new friend, will finally be out in the world. Publication day is Oct. 15, 2019. The cover is a collage by Marcie Melancon, a New Iberia artist.
The Blurb:
Blessen LaFleur’s life is once again taking more twists and turns than the bayou she lives near. Blessen is growing up and taking on the responsibility of raising a hen, Sunshine, who is broody and bothered. In this sequel, Blessen meets Harmony who is homeless and missing her mother. Blessen’s caring nature leads her to save Harmony from the despair of a strange foster home by stealing her away on an adventure. Together they call themselves “the guardians of nature.” When an accident reveals Harmony to the grown-ups in Blessen’s life, they both learn of the strength of family and love.
You can read the first review at A Word’s Worth by Diane Moore.
If you are interested in reading a pdf copy and writing a blog review, please let me know in the comments.
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Nature and beauty is pretty. The trees, the wind, and everything you know. Beauty in the diamonds and when I look inside, I see the face I love.
Annie, 4 years old
I was asked to teach a writing workshop for kids at the Hilliard Museum’s Play Day. “You have to be flexible because we’re never really sure who will show up.”
Annie came in with her father. I’ve met Annie a few times because our paths have crossed. I’m friends with her grandmother, and her mother is a journalist who has connected me with writing opportunities. So when she walked in, I greeted her, “Hi Annie. We are writing poems today. Would you like to write a poem?”
She began… “Yes. Nature and beauty is nice because…” and she continued. “Wait,” I said pulling out a clean piece of paper and a pen. “I wasn’t ready. Now slow down, and I’ll write what you say.”
Me with “Princess” Annie posing for a picture to send to Nanna B.
She is already a poet. I didn’t read one of my poems. I didn’t talk to her about forms. I didn’t give her any suggestions. She already knows how to write a poem.
Then we made a zine, a small foldable from a single sheet of paper. “Now,” I explained. “I could write the words for you, and you can draw the pictures.”
“No, I can write the words.” And she could! She copied the words she had dictated to me into the book. This took her at least 30 minutes. I was amazed at her focus and her determination. I was also amazed at her father’s patience. He sat comfortably while she meticulously copied each word.
The gifted teacher in me noted signs of perfectionism. When she messed up a letter, she got upset and rubbed it as if to erase it. I said, “Don’t worry. You can just make that a picture.”
Her letter a with the too long tail became what looked to me like a bug. I asked her, “Is this a butterfly?”
“No, it’s Diamond. Daddy, does it look like Diamond?”
“Yes, it does,” Daddy promptly said.
I looked at him and whispered, “Who’s Diamond?”
“Her imaginary friend” His whispered reply.
Annie continued writing word for word. An i placed in the wrong place became a tree.
When she finished, I said, “You need to sign it ‘by Annie’.”
She asked, “On the back?”
I showed her my book, Bayou Song. “On my book, my name is on the front. It says ‘Poetry by Margaret Simon.'”
Of course, Annie wrote on the front “Poetry by Annie.”
She is the youngest poet I’ve ever met, yet I have no doubts she is a writer. Just like her mom.
This month I challenged my writing partners, the Sunday Night Swaggers, to write zeno poems. This fun form was created by J. Patrick Lewis and is based on a mathematical sequence of 8,4,2,1,4,2,1,4,2,1 with each 1 syllable line rhyming. This is one of my favorite forms to use with children. The syllable count is doable, and there’s the added challenge of rhyme.
Even though the temperature hasn’t changed (we have highs in the mid 90’s still.), the signs of fall are here: shorter days, browning cypress, and high sugarcane.
Sugarcane is taller than me. Tangled green stalks above rise reaching for fall’s azure skies field of beauty in my eyes.
Margaret Simon, draft
Autumn sounds like a sad songbird singing under grapevine shade where blossoms from springtime fade empty bird’s nest hidden grayed.
More Spiritual Journey posts are gathered at Karen Eastland’s blog. Click the image.
This month Karen chose Beauty as the theme for our Spiritual Journey posts. I was looking through a magazine and came across the word “Beautiful,” so I decided I needed to make a collage. I love making collages, but don’t do it often. When other things get in the way, we tend to put aside the little creative things that make us happy. You feel guilty spending time on a frivolous pleasure. But it’s that very pleasure that keeps us creative and happy.
Beauty is… giggles from a grandson roses in bloom hot-air balloon on a summer morning kitten running sideways glass of red moss swaying in the breeze egret flying over the sugarcane field chocolate, dark with mint a cuppa latte with a petal in the froth these words, I love you.
Kelo is gone. I can’t wrap my head around that fact. With her long weaves, gentle hazel eyes, and golden front teeth, Kelo danced with a mop and sang while she worked. She would greet you in the hallway with a genuine kindness that made you want to stop and talk.
“How’s that grand baby?” she’d ask me often because she knew I had a new grandson.
Kelo was so much more than a custodian at our school. Last year when I first started coming to the school to teach gifted, she knew my name well before I knew hers. She was pregnant with her 4th son, and my daughter was having her first, so we always had things to talk about. She’d encourage me with, “Girl, that baby’s coming soon!” We’d share photos and anecdotes. She was a friend.
I don’t understand how one day you’re here and the next, you’re gone. So much can change in an instant. Taken too soon by an innocent ATV accident, Kelo’s death has left a hollowness in the halls. My heart is heavy.
Kelo makes me want to be better about caring for others, to show genuine kindness as she did, and to sing like no one is listening, except Kelo from above.
I live on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. I love teaching, poetry, my dog Charlie, my three daughters, and dancing with my husband. This space is where I capture my thoughts, share my insights, and make connections with the world. Welcome! Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 