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Archive for the ‘Gratitude’ Category

SOLC26: Day 31: Slicing with You

Posted in Blogging, Gratitude, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , on March 31, 2026| 9 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

First and foremost, thank you, dear readers, for taking this daily journey with me. Thirty-one days seems daunting and impossible on March 1st, yet, now that I am writing on day 31, I’m wishing for more. More writing, more reading, more connecting.

Ultimately what I write for is connection. I see you. You see me. Life is meant to be lived in connection with others. The Two Writing Teachers community are my people. This is my 13th year of the challenge. I always feel I receive more than I give. That is as it should be.

In many ways, social media has become toxic, giving us that dose of envy that we neither need nor ask for. It hasn’t happened here. This writing community supports and encourages, holds you up and celebrates your unique voice as well as a common voice.

I plan to continue daily posts throughout April for National Poetry Month. (There are still a few days left on the Progressive Poem schedule.) Again, thanks for reading and commenting and being with me. Whew! We did it!

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SOLC26: Day 29: Iris Festival

Posted in Gratitude, nature, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , on March 29, 2026| 10 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Native blue flag iris planted along the Bayou Teche.

Good hands, what will you do 
with this new trust rising
out of what looked like failure?

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

This weekend is the inaugural Iris Festival in New Iberia and Lafayette, Louisiana. The festival is celebrating the native blue flag iris that have been planted along the Bayou Teche in New Iberia and in Moncus Park in Lafayette. I’m learning more and more about the native plants in our area and how they are successful because they are planted where they belong.

Sitting with the Irises.

If you talk to any gardener, they say right spot, right time when it comes to blooming. Last week these lovely blues were not blooming. They looked like failure. Today they are thriving.

The Iris Festival is just another excuse to have a festival. Louisiana is a state of festivals. I sat at the Teche Project booth and talked to friends and passers by while layering jackets and even wrapping myself in a tie-dye table cloth. It was a chilly morning under the oaks.

Sitting in the sun to warm up and enjoy the wild irises, I felt gratitude for the weather, for the planters who trudged into the mud to plant these swamp-loving beauties, and to God for teaching me through nature that I must trust what may look like failure.

What is giving you hope these days?

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SOLC25: Day 25: This Photo: Through the Window

Posted in being mamére, Photography, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , , on March 25, 2026| 3 Comments »

Stella sends me a heart through the window.

There’s a lot going on in the photo today. It’s not a great shot, but I love it for the action it conveys. I’m the shadow taking the photo. Stella, age 5, is showing me a heart through the glass. In the background, in typical fashion, Leo, age 7, is leaping. He was outside with his father helping with yard work (note the too big garden gloves.)

On Wednesday mornings I often have no real idea of what photo I will use as a poem prompt. I had forgotten about this one. What’s in my heart may not be in yours, but I hope you can find a way into writing. Please leave a poem in the comments and support other writers with your responses. All are welcome.

Your heart

Is in mine
nesting, nurturing,
urging me to capture
every moment
of your love,
through the window,
over my shadow
into my joy-glow.

Margaret Simon, draft

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SOLC26: Day 15: Where is your light?

Posted in Gratitude, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , , , , , on March 15, 2026| 6 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

This morning I perused my inbox for inspiration, passing things by. It’s Sunday. I want rest and something spiritual to offer.

In Padràig ÓTauma’s substack newsletter, he posted a Rumi poem.

Here are my responses to Rumi’s questions.

What kind of hunter?

Art in the wild!

Where is your flower?

Native flowers bursting in my garden

Where is your light?

Stella making bird art, a test run for my book release party.

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SOLC26: Day 11: This Photo

Posted in Gratitude, Slice of Life, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , , , , on March 11, 2026| 11 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

This photo I took of a visiting cardinal. As the day’s news gets more and more tragic, I turn to nature. Some southerners believe that when you see a red bird, you are visited by a lost loved one.

This morning in my email feed, I received the word of the day from Merriam-Webster, besotted: “Someone described as besotted is so in love that they are unable to think clearly.”

I thought Besotted would make a good title for a poem. This is a drafting post. If you are inspired by the photo, please leave your own poem in the comments and support other writers with positive comments.

Besotted

You
in your red cardinal coat
distract me
humble me
enamor me
Perched with pride,
you say,

“I am here.”

Margaret Simon, draft

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Slice of Life: Happy Birthday, What’s That Sound?

Posted in being mamére, Books, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , on March 10, 2026| 19 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

Three years ago when my grandson Thomas (Tuffy) was 3 years old, he liked to play a game with me, What’s That Sound? He would make an animal sound, “meow”, and say “What’s that sound? Is it a cow? No! It’s a cat.”

Thomas at age 3

In the middle of the night, I woke up saying to myself “What’s that sound? I ask Mamére. What’s that sound, up in the air?”

I responded to the voice in my head and wrote a short verse that became the draft for a baby board book. I pitched it to UL Press, and they decided to take it on as their very first board book.

My friend and fellow picture book writer Gayle Webre had found illustrator Drew Beech through SCBWI (Society for Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators). I contacted Drew, and she took on the project. I couldn’t be happier with her illustrations. I sent her photos of the characters, me, my grandson, my husband, a neighbor who was nanny to my other grandchildren, and my own mother.

My mother with Maggie, 1986

I’m sad that my mother is not here to see the book. The photo I had of her was with my oldest daughter sitting in a chair hammock.

On the last spread, Drew created a family crawfish boil. That was a complete surprise to me, a happy surprise.

From What’s That Sound? Birds of the Bayou

In the fall, I had the chance to hold the dummy copy in my hands. It was like someone handing me a new baby. I cried.

I realize through this process, often long and frustrating, that every picture book you hold in your hands is a labor of love. All of my love is poured into What’s That Sound?

(Book Release Event: Friday, March 27th at The Roy House on UL’s campus from 4:30-6:00 PM.)

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SOLC26: Day 8: The Dawn Chorus

Posted in Gratitude, Poetry, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , on March 8, 2026| 21 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

On my morning walk, I stopped to talk to a new-to-me neighbor. She’s lived in her house for a long time, but my route recently changed. I met her, but she already knows a good bit about me. (Small town)

We talked about my new board book (coming Tuesday), her new great granddaughter she wants a signed copy for, sound frequency healing, and gardens. She told me, “Did you know that the sound of the birds singing in the morning actually makes the plants open up and grow?”

As I continued my walk, I turned off my book on tape and turned on the Merlin app amazed by the number of birds around me. I spoke a poem into my notes app.

The Dawn Chorus

The songs of the birds wake my winter mind:
sparrow, wren,
small and mighty
in their announcement of spring.
A tickle of rain,
a wave from morning fleabane
Two turtles bobbing on a log
Stamens seem to say,
“Welcome! Welcome to this day!”

Margaret Simon, draft

Fleabane

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SOLC26: Day 6: Poetry Friday Becoming

Posted in being mamére, Poetry Friday, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , on March 6, 2026| 18 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Karen Edmisten.

I did not do my own assignment. I kept putting it off with excuse after excuse. This month I posed what I thought would be a simple, easy challenge for my Inklings writing group, “Write a poem using the word becoming.”

I searched my notebook, my Google Docs, and no miracle there. I simply had not written to my own prompt. Last night I decided to take inspiration from fellow Inkling Linda Mitchell and write a haiku sonnet. (She had shared hers at our meeting last weekend.) Form does not always become a poem.

Is it cheating to use a repeating line? After playing with the title “Becoming Spring”, I wrote the title “Becoming Beautiful”. Almost daily, my youngest daughter sends new photos of my newest grandson. Yesterday she sent this one with the text, “Someone had a cute spurt today.” We all marvel at how this baby just gets more and more adorable.

“Cute spurt”

Nevertheless, here is my down-to-the-wire draft of a haiku sonnet for this cutie.

Becoming Beautiful

You are born with it
in the deep blue of the sea
you glisten like gems

You are born with it
eventually you smile
at your mother’s stare

You are born with it
shine like the full blood moon
a friend to the sun

You are born with it
because that is who you are
someone’s true love

No need to apologize
Be beautiful as you are

Margaret Simon, for Sam, draft

Check out the brilliant ways Inklings responded to this prompt:

Mary Lee @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Catherine @ Reading to the Core

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Poetry Friday: A Dark Night

Posted in being mamére, Poetry, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged , on February 20, 2026| 13 Comments »

Poetry Friday is hosting today by Susan at Chicken Spaghetti.

Susan Thomsen posted a prompt from David Lehman to use the last line of Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself as a first line to a new poem. I have my grandchildren spending the night, and we read a silly scary story called The Dark Night. I went back to a New Year’s prompt from Pádraig Ó Tuama for a pantoum about the night.

The Dark Night
I stop somewhere waiting for you.
Footsteps clonking on wooden stairs—
Womblike whoosh of your sound machine,
Your shadow shape shifts in the low light.

Footsteps tender on wooden stairs.
Owl “who-cooks-for-you” wakes;
its shadow shape shifts in this low light.
Time stands still.

Owl hoots who-cooks-for-you
as I breathe your scent before you’re here.
Time stands still.
Will my love be good enough?

I breathe your sleeping scent.
Womblike whooshes from your sound machine.
Will my loving arms be enough?
I stop somewhere waiting for you.

(Free stock image)

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Slice of Life: Did You Kiss?

Posted in being mamére, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , on February 10, 2026| 12 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

“Did you kiss?” Seven-year old Leo asked when I said we went dancing.

“No, we danced.”

“But did you kiss?”

“Not while we were dancing, but we can now.” Jeff walked over to me and kissed me.

Leo stopped asking.

What does he know of love? A long love?

On Monday, my daughter asked me to babysit Leo and Stella because they were not feeling well. When I arrived, Leo was set up on the sofa with a blanket, a stuffie, and a bucket, but it wasn’t long until they both perked up and were ready to craft Valentines.

Leo wrote (unprompted by me) in his journal:

Leo’s journal page

Their energy increased, so we took the bikes out to the park nearby. I wrote this poem for Laura Shovan’s February project. Our theme this year is mysteries and the topic was secrets. I decided to ask Leo if he had any secrets.

True story

I asked him if he had a secret
while he shimmied down the fireman’s pole.
I love Abby he said.
Does she know?
I helped him write the Valentine
and tuck it in an envelope.
When his mother saw it, she said “How sweet! I’ll put it in the mail.”
Who is Abby?
I imagined a girl on the school playground running from my grandson’s chase.
Oh, don’t be silly.
He loves Abby, the dog.

Margaret Simon, draft

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