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Spiritual Journey and Poetry Friday: Family and Prayer

Posted in being mamére, Gratitude, Poetry Friday, Spiritual Growth, Writing, tagged Alberto Rios, Dot Gibson, family, paradox poem, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, spiritual journey, Spiritual poetry on August 8, 2025| 16 Comments »

Spiritual Journey First Thursday is being gathered by Leigh Anne Eck at A Day in the Life.

Leigh Anne asked us to write about family this month. Family is my priority always, but since retiring, I find myself dedicating more time to my children and grandchildren.

This week as my husband and I celebrate 43 years of marriage, I am caring for my grandchildren in New Orleans. My colleagues are going back to school and while I admit to feeling a pang of “I should be there”, I am grateful I am not. My mind and body are more relaxed, and I am able to devote energy to my family. What a blessing!

Next weekend we will all gather in Jackson, MS to celebrate my mother’s long life of 89 years. My mother, Dorothy Liles Gibson, was dedicated to family. She taught me the value of being fully present. I have selected this poem to read at her service: “Let the Last Thing Be Song.” My mother was a musician all her life. She taught piano lessons and got her masters in piano. She was a founding member of the Jackson Music Forum. She was also an active choir member at St. James Episcopal Church. I look forward to being with all of my children and grandchildren, siblings and their families, as well as friends and cousins. We will raise our voices to praise her life.

I am taking a poetry workshop with Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer. This week she used a model poem by Alberto Rios, “When Giving is All We Have” to talk about paradox in a poem. She gave us a prompt with a variety of anaphoric phrases. I chose prayer. “We pray because…” I’m sharing the draft of my poem.

When Prayer is all We Have

After Alberto Rios “When Giving is All We Have”

We pray because we are lost.
We pray because we are found.

We pray because prayer changes us.
We pray because prayer changes nothing.

We hold hands to pray.
We kneel alone in the sand.

Prayers have many ways to begin:
Our Father
Dear Lord
Ah, me
I am here

Silence can be a prayer.

Prayers connect us to the dead.
We are helpless in prayer.

What I do not have, I offer to prayer—an empty voice, a sigh of desperation.
Does it matter who is listening?

The prayer makes all the difference.

Margaret Simon, draft

Molly Hogan has the Poetry Friday link up today at Nix the Comfort Zone.

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Slice of Life: First Musical

Posted in being mamére, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged #beingmamére, IPAL, musical, theater on July 22, 2025| 15 Comments »

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

Have you seen Matilda, the Musical? I’ll take any excuse to see a musical. Our local performing arts league, IPAL, does a musical every summer with kids under the age of 18. I am always impressed with the skills of these young people and their directors. Matilda was no exception.

Last summer I took Leo to Beauty and the Beast. We weren’t sure how he would like it, but he sat in his seat mesmerized for the whole play. We took a picture with Gaston.

Leo, age 5, with Gaston from Beauty and the Beast (IPAL, 2024)

This year Leo is 6, which means he’s all grown up and knows about musicals.

Sister Stella is four. So it was a long shot to try to take her to the show. My daughter decided to go with us because two kids are harder than one.

Stella was not as mesmerized as Leo. She asked a lot of questions.

“Why is Miss Trunchbull a boy?!”

I explained the beauty of theater is that boys can be girls and girls can be boys.

Stella also had a little trouble suspending belief.

“Her father is so mean!”

“He’s just pretending, remember?”

Leo and Stella both enjoyed the time called “Intermission” when they could get treats.

While Stella lost her patience about a half hour before the play was over, “Is it over yet?”, she can’t wait to go to another musical.

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Fingers and Toes

Posted in being mamére, Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged #beingmamére, #poemsofpresence, #smallpoems, newborn, This Photo Wants to be a Poem on July 16, 2025| 3 Comments »

Baby Sam’s fingers holding Mamére’s finger.

This week’s photos may be a bit selfish on my part. I hope you can find a way into writing from your own life. Leave a poem in the comments and respond to other writers.

Two weeks ago my youngest daughter gave birth to my youngest grandchild, Sam. He is absolutely perfect. I marveled at him for days. All his tiny parts, especially his long fingers and his tiny toes. Two of his toes are webbed.

I can’t really write anything that isn’t sappy, but never mind, just dig right in to it. Grandmothers are made to be sappy.

Perfection Is

Ten fingers
ten toes
that treasure your gentle touch.

Fingernails
tiny and sharp—
His simple signature.

Two hands
two feet
fill a heart with love.

Margaret Simon, draft

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Slice of Life: Saints Marching In and Out

Posted in being mamére, Gratitude, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged #beingmamére, mothers, saints on July 15, 2025| 10 Comments »

Twelve days ago, this beautiful boy came into my world. Wrapped in the stitches I crocheted for him, he sleeps. While he sleeps, I breathe his newness and want to hold onto that feeling that all is well with the world.

Six days ago my mother, Sam’s great grandmother, died. She slipped out of this world that had been her home into a new one, where we will all be someday. I like to think it’s a better place, a warm welcoming embrace.

I got a phone call message from my aunt, Alabel. She was once married to my mother’s brother, and she has remained a part of our family. Her message said, “I have been so privileged to be a part of your family. I’m glad your mother is now free and happy and seeing Johnny (my father)…I hear you have a new grandchild. That’s how it works, the saints are leaving and the saints are coming.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

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Slice of Life: Summer Walk

Posted in being mamére, Photography, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged #poemsofpresence, haiku, New Orleans City Park on July 1, 2025| 9 Comments »

I am spending some time in New Orleans with my daughters and grandchildren. Soon a new grandson will be here. But in the meantime, I took a walk in the neighborhood. A city walk is different from my small hometown walk, so I took some pictures to set the scene. (Don’t forget to add 80+ temps and 60% humidity to your imagination.)

We took grandson Thomas to City Park and walked around the gardens.

Thomas, 5, looks for turtles in the pond.

My One Little Word for 2025 is Still. Even in the midst of city traffic and busyness, a moment of stillness can be found.

City Park Haiku

Turtles sun-basking
While heat rises from old stone
Bridges to stillness

Margaret Simon, draft

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Poetry Friday: My Favorite Kind of Silence

Posted in being mamére, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged #poemsofpresence, #smallpoems, Georgia Heard, shadorma on May 30, 2025| 11 Comments »

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Karen Edmisten.

I am finishing up a week of babysitting for two of my grandchildren this week. One of them, June, I kept during the day because daycare was closed. The other, Thomas, I kept after his day camp because his mother had a work trip.

This morning when I was dropping Thomas off for the last time, we had a talk about missing people we love. He started the conversation with “I miss my dad,” which could be viewed as a manipulative ploy for attention, but I didn’t take the bait. I said how much I would be missing him when I go back home.

He said, “Do you miss Papére?”

“Of course, I do. I miss Papére and Albért when I’m here with you, but I miss you and June when I’m home.”

Loving means you’re always missing someone. A conversation with a 5 year old brought me to tears.

This month I have been writing a poem each day using Georgia Heard’s May calendar. The prompt for today was “your favorite kind of silence.” The shadorma form fit nicely with the syllable count of 3, 5, 3, 3, 7, 5.

My Favorite Kind of Silence

Silence comes
after summer rain
before birds
recall sun
after a sung lullaby
a sleepy child’s sigh

Margaret Simon, draft

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National Poetry Month Day 22: You Matter

Posted in being mamére, Poetry, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged #beingmamére, #EthicalELA, #verselove, musical lyrics, National Poetry Month on April 22, 2025| 8 Comments »

I’ve been writing this month with Ethical ELA’s #Verselove. On Sunday, Susan Ahlbrand led us in a prompt called “Lingering Lines.” We could choose a song from a musical to use as inspiration. One of my favorite musicals is Waitress by Sarah Bareilles, and my favorite song is You Matter to Me. Try to listen to it without crying. I can’t.

This weekend my daughter was visiting with her son, Thomas, who is now 5 and a half. How time flies! He is the sweetest boy with an active imagination and crystal blue eyes. He loves me without condition which warms my mamére heart. I borrowed the song lyric and wrote a short poem for Thomas.

You Matter to Me

I find sea glass treasure in your eyes.
You look in my heart as a mirror
and smile for the picture frame.
You matter to me.

I sing a lullaby love song
and you think I’m magical.
You say “I love you” like they’re
the easiest words to say.

I know your love is true
innocence of a 5 year old
simple and free, no baggage
or judgement. You see
You matter to me.

Margaret Simon, draft

Kidlit Progressive Poem Update: Patricia had a family emergency, so Rose is taking her line today (at Imagine the Possibilities). That is one thing I love about this community. We can lean on each other.

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National Poetry Month Day 20: Things to Do if You’re Mamére

Posted in being mamére, Poetry, Writing, tagged #EthicalELA, #verselove, Barred Owl Cam, food poem, Things to Do Poem on April 20, 2025| 1 Comment »

In my book Bayou Song: Creative Explorations of the Southern Louisiana Landscape , I have a Things to Do poem about the alligator snapping turtle. You can see the poem and poem prompt here. On Friday, I was looking at the Barred Owl Cam from All about Birds with a young poetry student. We wrote Things to Do poems. From Ethical ELA, Tammi Belko suggested using random words to write a poem. This prompt fit well with our Things to Do poems. We looked at AI generated words about barred owlets and made a list of words to use in our poems.

On Saturday #Verselove, the prompt came from Jordan Stamper. She asked us to think about food memories. What she didn’t know was that very morning I was making a food memory with my grandson Thomas.

Banana Bread (first line from Billy Collins)

I love the sound of
a grandson in the morning
finding the muffin tins
and demanding to bake with me.

We gather flour, sugar, butter, eggs–
Stir the dry.
Whisk the wet.
Smash dappled sweet bananas.

“When will the banana bread be ready? he whines,
melting my heart
with his crystal blue eyes.
Goodness takes time to rise.

Margaret Simon, draft

The Kidlit Progressive Poem is with Mary Lee Hahn today at A(nother) Year of Reading.

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Slice of Life Day 11: Motherhood

Posted in being mamére, Gratitude, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged #beingmamére, pregnancy, The Marginalian, ultrasound on March 11, 2025| 11 Comments »

When I was having children, I never really considered the future and what it might mean for me to be a grandmother. I had three girls. Three daughters who grew into three amazing women. And now I am Mamére to four grands and another one on the way. My youngest daughter is pregnant with her 2nd child. She has a 2 year old, June, and this one is a boy due in July. We’ve had fun calling him “July.”

Pregnancy is not an easy time. There are so many changes happening in a woman’s body. After an earlier miscarriage, Martha was full of fear. I was confident, but I understood her fears. She invited me to the 20 week anatomy scan ultrasound. I sat in awe at the image on the screen…a perfect baby.

Here is my love letter to this new baby boy:

July

I already love all four chambers
of your heart, steadily beating
showing off for the camera.
And those little toe nubs that I can’t wait to tickle.
We could see the perfect stairs
of your spine curled,
floating up in the certain space
of womb. I fell head over heals
for your tiny nose, the deep eye sockets,
the thing that tells us you are boy.

I can wait as you grow
and grow, coming to us
on a hot mid-July morning
wailing for more time
inside. It’s OK, my grandboy,
I love you already.
Margaret Simon, draft

On Sunday I read Maria Popover’s The Marginalian. She wrote about matrescence: “While mothering can take many forms and can be done by many different kinds of people, the process of one organism generating another from the raw materials of its own being — a process known as matrescence — is as invariable as breathing, as inevitable to life as death.”

In Matrescence: On Pregnancy, Childbirth, and Motherhood, Lucy Jones writes of her own experience giving birth to a girl.
“Time started to bend. I was carrying the future inside me. I would learn that I was also carrying the eggs, already within my baby’s womb, that could go on to partly form my potential grandchildren. My future grandchildren were in some way inside me, just as part of me spent time in the womb of my grandmother.”

I am grateful to be a grandmother, the seed from which my grandchildren sprouted. Honored by my daughters to be beside them as they do their best to be strong women who mother with wisdom and care.

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Slice of Life Day 10: Crochet Sweater

Posted in being mamére, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged #beingmamére, Stella, toddler crochet sweater on March 10, 2025| 10 Comments »

I’ve crocheted for years, so this year I decided to try to make a garment. I’ve made baby blankets, shawls, and hats, but when I saw a pattern for a baby sweater using two hexagons, I thought this will be easy enough.

We were taking a driving trip with our family to Oklahoma right after Christmas, and I wanted a project to do on the drive and while relaxing at the house. I picked out three colors from my inherited boxes of yarn from my friend Marion who died in 2020. My daughter Maggie, the mother of Stella, said of the three colors, “Stella will wear that.”

I crocheted and crocheted until I realized that it was way too big. The first hexagon would almost fit me! I had not accounted for the gauge of the yarn. I was just following the pattern.

Rather than lose the project all together, I decided to rip out the extra rows to make it fit. Then I spent a while making the other side.

Finally it was ready to block.

Two hexagon crocheted sweater blocked on the ironing board ready for steaming.

I brought it to Stella one afternoon when we were visiting. Stella has her own unique sense of fashion. Her preference is to wear leggings in one pattern and a top in another pattern. Sometimes she wears a dress as a skirt or a costume. Her favorites are skeleton, ninja mask, and Elsa nightgown.

Stella ready to go the art show (pj top, dress as skirt, and Elsa wig)

When Stella first saw the sweater, she said, “Nobody anywhere ever has worn a short sleeved sweater.”

My daughter Maggie explained to her that I had made it specially for her. She eventually came around and posed for a picture in her new sweater. Her dad sent me this picture.