Growing up in Mississippi and now living in Louisiana, I always thought this flower was called a buttercup and grew wild on roadsides. This photo was taken in my neighborhood near the curb of an empty lot. These wild things love a bit of concrete to bloom from.
Yesterday when I googled them, I saw that I could actually buy seeds and that they were also known as a primrose. I love both of these names and wanted to play with them in a poem.
There is a poem form in which the first line is _______ is a ________ word. I came across this form when I was cleaning my classroom. Irene Latham had sent me two along with a collage in a summer poem swap who knows how long ago.
Buttercup is a bouncy word
open to the spring
of teacups with a dollop of honey
and lacy pink napkins.Primrose is a proper word
holding out its pinky
ready to sip sweetness
among the wild grass.Margaret Simon, draft
Please write a small poem in the comments and support each other with positive feedback.
The final line of the Kidlit Progressive Poem is with April Wayland at Teaching Authors. Hope over and give her some comment love, too. The line is a celebration. She’s asking for a title.
Reflections on the Teche 