I have traveled this summer vicariously through my friend and fellow Inkling Molly Hogan. She recently went to Seneca Falls with her sisters. She shared her trip on her Facebook page here.
This photo appealed to me for many reasons, the play of metal to shadows, and my curiosity about the placement of bells. When I googled it, there is, of course, a story. The bridge was made famous by “It’s a Wonderful Life”. The bells are placed in honor of lost loved ones.
I started today by trying a triolet form. I came up with a long list of words rhyming with ringing. Thus a failed triolet became this offering.
Echoes of bells ringing send my heart winging memories of you lingering a shadow of love clinging
Margaret Simon, draft
Write a small poem in the comments and kindly respond to others.
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Marcie Atkins at her blog.
I am always touched when someone from the Poetry Friday community takes the time to get to know me and send me a personalized poem. The Summer Poetry Swap is organized by Tabatha Yeatts. I received a package from Tricia Stohr Hunt with delightful surprises. She sent a postcard of Capitol Street in downtown Jackson, MS. from 1944. My father would have been 11 years old and living a block away.
The poem she wrote has a lovely repetition. She said in her note that the “people” in the poem are me.
Musings on Mississippi
I traveled through Mississippi once in a rented car, speeding from Mobile to NOLA in the dark there were only twenty-four hours of liberty
I was in the dark about Mississippi familiar only with minutiae learned in elementary school Capital: Jackson Nickname: The Magnolia State Abbreviation: MS Fun Fact: birthplace of Elvis
Minutiae learned in elementary school tell an incomplete story I know the stereotypes the ugly bits of history but it’s the people that interest me their lives, their stories
People interest me the ones with big hearts who wear their love loud and proud love for the land love for poetry and music love for the beauty of the world for this place called home and every living thing
From Tricia Stohr-Hunt
Tricia personalized her gift even more with handmade items, a letter-block print of an excerpt from Naomi Shihab Nye’s “Valentine for Ernest Mann” and a lavender folded book including a window to her original print art. Her gift was overflowing with creativity and inspiration.
Summer Poetry Swap gift from Tricia Stohr Hunt
This week I wrote with Ethical ELA’s Open Write. On Wednesday, sadly the last day for this month, Mo Daley prompted us to write a dodoitsu poem, a Japanese limerick of 7, 7, 7, 5 syllable count. My poem was dedicated to this supportive online community. I am feeling the love.
A Community of Poets
Poems drift across this room and hide within our voices. Pressing forth among like minds– Cheers to word choices. Margaret Simon, draft
We were given a fig tree and planted it this spring. We are now harvesting figs! One at a time. My husband joked that we were having our first annual Simon Fig Festival. I served the single fig cut into 4 pieces for our dessert last night. A small, but successful harvest.
Ethical ELA is holding Open Write this week. The first prompt came from Denise Krebs. She reminded me of a form that Jane Yolen created called the septercet. Each stanza has seven syllables and there are 3 lines per stanza. I wrote a septercet about my first fig.
Do you see rain and complain? Everything wet in your path– Grass and mud slide to the street.
I watch this single fig-fruit turn from green to peachy-red making rain into sweet juice.
You can decide the mood here. Rain or shine, weed or flower Fig tree loves enough of both.
@Margaret Simon, draft
You can choose to write a septercet about your own favorite fruit of summer. Leave a small poem in the comments and write encouraging responses to other writers.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
This is the week of Open Write at Ethical ELA. I love these monthly exercises in writing poetry. They keep my notebook going as a working document, and it’s a wonderful, kind, and inspiring group to be a part of. Earlier in the week, Kim Johnson left me a comment stating she hoped I would write a puppy poem this week. Today’s prompt worked for a puppy poem.
You may be familiar with the children’s book The Important Book by Margaret Wise Brown. Gayle leads us through the prompt to discovery the essence of the thing we choose to write about. As I write this post, my new puppy Albert “Albear” is curled up on my lap after his vaccinations. I’m breathing in the puppy smell. He’s 5 months old. I’m not sure when that scent goes away, but for now, I’m loving it.
The important thing about a new puppy is that he loves you without conditions. He will also jump on you and joyfully chase a tennis ball. Sometimes he poops on the floor, but he’s “just a puppy.” Always cute. Intoxicating smell. Barks at new bowls, trash bins, and the noise of the printer. Curiously nibbles on weeds, follows butterflies, sniffs at kittens. But the most important thing about a new puppy is he loves you, no matter what.
Five month old Albert with his favorite tennis ball.
The Poetry Friday Roundup this week is here. Scroll down to enter your links into the inLinkz party.
My summer is quickly coming to an end. I will be returning to teaching on August 1st (yes, it gets earlier every year). Two weeks left, but as every teacher knows, you must start working on plans and classroom arrangement much earlier. So today I am here with a praise poem from my summer.
This garden statue was a gift from a friend for my birthday last year (or the year before?) She is nestled in a space with succulents. This morning there was rain and I was drawn to how she seems to be catching raindrops with her upturned face. Maybe she can inspire a small poem in you today.
Angel face upturned glittered with raindrops holding morning clouds with Hope
Today I chose to use the elfchen form. The directions for this form:
Consider writing today. Leave a small poem in the comments. Respond to other writers with encouragement.
July came in with a poem from Grateful Living. A poem I know and love. One I’ve carried in my pocket often for Poem in your Pocket Day. It’s likely one that you know as well, Kindness by Naomi Shihab Nye. In my notebook I wrote a riff on the line “You must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.”
You Must Know
Sorrow buries itself in the marrow of your bones, zaps your energy so all you can do is stop, rest, breathe slow and steady.
Then you emerge, shedding a former skin to feel Love as the deepest thing, how sorrow lights on a fence post to show you what is true. All a part of you.
I have been singing all of my life. I can remember being in a church choir when I was a teenager. We performed “Godspell” which is still one of my favorite musicals. I was never up front as a soloist but confidently following the alto line. I’ve been in our church choir for 30+ years.
Recently I’ve felt a weakness in my voice. Sometimes nothing comes out or notes crack. I never know when it’s going to happen, but I wanted to conquer it. Get my voice back. I made a play list on my phone I titled “I Have a Voice.” It includes songs like “A Beautiful Noise” by Alicia Keys and Brandi Carlile and “Little Voice” by Sara Bareilles. I’ve been singing along for a year. My brother, who is a professional musician, told me I just needed to sing more often. He suggested, “Set a time of the day that you will sing, like on your way to school.”
In the spring, I received an email from our local community theater offering voice lessons for the summer. I thought, “why not?” Lanie, my voice teacher, is young and talented. I’ve watched her in the theater’s musicals and she has a voice. What I didn’t know when I started was whether or not she could teach. She can! We’ve worked together for four weeks. Most of all I have gained confidence. I still have instances when my voice catches, but now I know not to panic. I relax my throat and move on.
Last Sunday I sang a solo of one of the songs on my playlist, “Little Things with Great Love” written by Audrey Assad. Her songs are poetic. They are not traditional, but they are thoughtful and deeply spiritual.
I was able to tell Lanie with a glimmer of tears in my eyes that I was proud of my performance. I don’t plan any kind of career in singing. I just want to “make a beautiful noise” and perhaps touch others with my voice. I think I accomplished that on Sunday.
Franciscan monk feeds the pigeons, Dubrovnik by Molly Hogan
My fellow Inkling (writing group) poet-teacher Molly Hogan went on a fabulous trip to Croatia, Slovenia, and Ireland. She blessed me and all her Facebook friends with lots of amazing photos. I was compelled by this photo. It takes me back to my favorite musical of all time, The Sound of Music. It also reminds me of a kind monk I knew growing up. He was my father’s best friend. His Benedictine name was Brother Anselm. He was witty and wise and an incredible organist.
My poem is a narrative free verse. I wanted to tell a story. I have fond memories of visiting Bill (Brother Anselm) at his monastery in St. Benedict, Louisiana.
Consider writing with me today. Leave a small poem in the comments. Remember this is a drafting space, so kindly write encouraging responses to other writers.
Brother Anselm
Walking into the woods surrounding the Abbey, Brother Anselm and I spoke freely. Our walk was a prayer.
We talked of nothing in particular as his brown robes swished and swayed, a comforting blanket of humble access to a stream of still water.
He reminded me that the holy is not always quiet. Our voices echoed among the tall pines, laughter shaking the ground.
He told me that time was our friend. Use it wisely and with intention. Bless the forest with reverent presence and God will grant you peace.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Once you’ve had the perfect dog, it’s hard to decide to do it all again. We lost Charlie in September. He was 16 years old. He had been the best dog ever. And we’ve had our share. Charlie was a mix of schnauzer and poodle, a schnoodle. One thing we knew for sure is that we wanted a poodle mix.
We started looking at rescue sites, but my husband thought it best to get a puppy that you knew the history of. We found a breeder of miniature golden doodles within driving distance and set out two weeks ago on an adventure. The girl with the auburn fur was the one we thought we wanted, but, of course, our qualifications for a calm puppy were utmost. She was a wild child. We asked about other pups from the litter. When we held the little black male, we knew he was the one.
Finding a name was another matter altogether. We each had our own ideas. I made a list of P-names: Prince, Pippin, Paco, Pax, Puck, Pepper, Pablo. Nothing felt quite right. I posted a photo on Facebook with the message that we were still trying to name him. My friend Mary wrote “He’s got that Albert (Einstein) look. You could call him Al.” Then Susan responded, “if you’ll be my bodyguard…you can call me Al. Total Jeff Simon vibe.” It made me laugh like this new puppy has made me laugh. So we landed on Albert, but we are using the French pronunciation “Al-Bear”.
Albert is asleep on my lap as I write this post, exactly as he should be.
Albert looks out toward the bayou contemplating the buzzing of cicadas.
Of course, a new puppy has its moments of frustration. Potty training is at the top of that list right now. But this will come with time and consistency on our part. Today will be his first grooming. I wish I could bottle the puppy smell for you. There is nothing quite like it.
Albert with a pacifier chew toy he loves because it squeaks and bounces.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She teaches gifted elementary students, writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 