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Archive for the ‘nature’ Category

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

The old adage “Build it and they will come” has certainly worked for me this year. Instead of planting milkweed outside in my butterfly garden, I planted two varieties in pots. This was due to a discovery that milkweed is poisonous to dogs. And our dog loves to romp in the butterfly garden.

In the spring, I found monarch caterpillars on the swamp milkweed. A few weeks ago I found two tiny ones on the tropical milkweed. Because of all the predators (lizards, birds, etc.), I decided to put the two babies in an enclosure. What I thought was two became 6 very healthy caterpillars munching away on both varieties. I was hoping I could keep them fed for the growth period.

Healthy monarch caterpillars

All six made chrysalises. Four of them had moved appropriately to the top, but one made its chrysalis on a stem and another on the side of the cup holding the demolished milkweed.

Over the past two days they all emerged, two on one day and the other four the next.

Beautiful monarch!

I feel a sense of accomplishment that I successfully raised 6 new monarchs to fly free into the world.

Four new monarchs ready to fly free!

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Poetry Friday roundup is hosted today by Jane Whittingham.

This first day of August is time for a new Inklings challenge. Catherine Flynn asked us to write a triptych poem using Irene Latham’s model poem here. I also looked at Summer Triptych by Linda Pastan.

This summer with my mother’s passing, I have been thinking about the three summers that stand out in my mind in the long process of losing my parents. The first summer I had to face the reality of their aging was 2019 when they decided to move to an independent living apartment. They left the house full, and my siblings and I had to clean it out.

In the summer of 2022, I was grieving the death of my father and searching for a sign of him. And this year, my mother…

Solace, peace, comes to me in this poem. I hope you find it there, too.

Summer Bird Triptych  

July 2019 

The hummingbird feeder, 
blown glass
swirling
primary colors, 
reflects the sun, 
attracts a ruby throat hovering
while I sit alone on the porch,

Remembering. 

July 2022 

I hear a tap, tap at the window.  
A bright yellow prothonotary. 
Does he see his reflection? 
Does he want me to come out? 

Is it you, Dad?

July 2025 

The crows seem angry. 
The Merlin app identifies fish crows.
They call with a fervor I feel deep in my belly, 
calling me back to nature

and myself. 

(Free photo from Pexels)

To see how other Inklings met this challenge:

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

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Red Hot Poker

The flowers I planted for the pollinators are loving all the rain we’ve been having. This one is called Red Hot Poker. Unfortunately, the stem weakened and it is now flopped over, but before that happened, I took this “portrait mode” photo.

I hope this invitation to write finds you in a place of peace. Please write a small poem in the comments and encourage others with your responses.

For each photo poem, I give myself a challenge. Today, I am trying a triolet. It is a poem of eight lines in which line one repeats in lines 4 and 7, line two repeats in 8. The rhyme scheme is abaaabab.

Red Hot Poker Triolet

Torch lily towers and shines
for the day will be hot and wet.
Butterflies float to its wine.
Torch lily towers and shines.
Summer firecracker’s a sign:
sweet nectar steams like a jet.
Torch lily towers and shines
for the day will be hot and wet.

Margaret Simon, draft

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The Poetry Friday Roundup is being gathered by Sarah Grace Tuttle.

Last month I was writing a poem each day prompted by Ethical ELA. One of the prompts offered by Alexis Ennis invited us to write an ode to peace. This prompt landed on a Sunday when I had time to sit and sip on my back deck overlooking the bayou. In winter when I had to haul pots inside, I cursed my love of tropical flowers, but on this day, I was celebrating their quiet and bright emergence.

As I revised this poem, I asked AI to give it a title. I like the response, go figure, of “Waking in Red.”

Waking in Red

the corner of my heart
slowing for breaths
deep and long

on the cypress
the cardinal busy
on branches by and by

here is the ruby-throated hummer
humming a second longer

there the glowing sun rising
to light this day

space opens for red bat plant,
desert rose, and buckeye

skin warms
as I wake
with the power
of red.
Margaret Simon, draft

I am writing a poem a day in May using #poemsofpresence and #smallpoems. Many of them are inspired by flowers. I invite you to join me on Instagram.

If you live nearby, come by Books Along the Teche (our local indie bookstore) for our book signing. Books Along the Teche will take orders for signed books.

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Fairy Door by Kim Johnson

“Walking in the woods today, I came upon a fairy door,” wrote my friend Kim in a text. She suggested I use it here for a poetry prompt.

From Wikipedia: “A fairy door is a miniature door, usually set into the base of a tree, behind which may be small spaces where people can leave notes, wishes, or gifts for the fairies.”

An open invitation for imagination. I’m curious about the R on this door. Is it part of an alphabet trail? Is it the first or last initial for the person who made it? Is there a fairy with that initial?

Today I am choosing to write an elfchen. Somehow a fairy door calls for an elfchen poem.

Fairy
holds wishes
in the forest
Delicate balance of presence
Oracle

I invite you into this magical forest to let go of concerns and be imaginative. Write a small poem in the comments. Join me on Instagram during the month of May writing #smallpoems, #poemsofpresence. Tag me @margaretgsimon.

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Carol Varsalona is rounding up this month at Beyond Literacy Links.

 “A world of grief and pain, flowers bloom—even then.” -Kobayashi Issa

Carol’s husband died recently and as she navigates her grief, I am pleased that she still wants to be involved in the wider world of blogging. I love the quote she offered by Issa. I received Georgia Heard’s newsletter in which she invites us to write small. Writing that is small can carry a large load or it can capture a small moment. Here’s Georgia’s May calendar of invitations.

Gardenia power
scents the whole kitchen with breaths
of grandma’s perfume

Flowers have brightened my daily walks this spring. With the sun rising by the time I head out with Albert, I’ve had more light to walk in. Sunrises, too, delight me. A spiritual journey is a daily practice of presence.

I invite you to write #poemsofpresence this month. I will post daily on Instagram. I will also give myself grace if I miss a day or two. May is about keeping myself grounded as the whirling ending of school presses upon me.

This desert rose thrives at my front door. Another blossoming welcoming spring.

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My friend Lory is a retired first grade teacher who now works at the Avery Island Country Store. She posted a picture of a small sleeping fawn. A sure sign of spring on “the island.” Today in my class, we are on the letter K for poetry month, so I am writing a kouta, aJapanese form that contains a quatrain with the syllable count of 7, 7, 7, 5 or 7, 5, 7, 5.

Early morn, she saw a fawn
a nestled speckled pillow
Where’s your mama, little one?
Can I be your friend?

Margaret Simon, draft

Please leave a small poem in the comments and support other writers with your comments.

The 2025 Kidlit Progressive Poem is with Ruth today: There is no such thing as a Godforsaken Town.

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Today’s #verselove prompt is from Padma Venkatraman who wrote Bridge to Home and most recently Safe Harbor. Her books never fail to take me to a new place where I can find a relatable character and beautiful language. What a honor to have her writing a prompt for us based on her latest book. She invited us to write about a safe place.

I am visiting Ridgeland, MS, a few miles from the place I grew up. While my visits here bring forth many emotions, this morning I wanted to find solace in a walk in nature. Even though my hotel is near an outdoor shopping mall, there is a creek nearby with a walking path. The creek is the very same creek that ran behind my childhood home, Purple Creek. I used the poetry form of tanka (haiku with a chorus) which has a syllable count of 5, 7, 5, 7, 7.

The Kidlit Progressive Poem is with Janet today at Donna’s blog, Mainely Write.

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This morning I am writing in a little house in Hattiesburg, MS with my friend and fellow Ethical ELA writer, Kim Johnson. We are here for the Fay B. Kaigler Children’s Book Festival. Yesterday we presented together about the power of poetry to heal. We shared writing prompts from 90 Ways of Community and led a group of teacher-librarians to discover themselves as writers. The room was vibrating with their energy. We just don’t often take the time to write just for ourselves. It was a wonderful way to begin the 3 day festival.

Today’s prompt for #Verselove comes from Joanne Emery who shared a model poem from Joy Harjo, “Red Bird Love.” I used a striking line from Joy’s poem to write about my friend Mary’s butterfly garden.

Mary’s Invitation

In her garden, there’s
salvia, swamp milkweed, that
purple one
I forgot the name of: you
watch a swallowtail circle
tall parsley flowers, back
around to
orange pincushion pistils on a coneflower
for a taste of home.

Photo by Oscar Lopez on Pexels.com

Marcie Atkins has the line today for the Kidlit Progressive Poem.

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Woodland Path by Patt Little

I borrowed this photo from Instagram. I’ve been to Acadiana Park Nature Station, but it was years ago on a field trip with students. I was drawn in by the path and thought about that tree, fallen across the path. How could this be a metaphor?

Metaphor can be elusive. Metaphor can be magical. Allan Wolf uses the phrase, “Metaphors be with you!” Think about metaphor today. Can you make it work in a small poem?

A Path Can Be

A path can be a crooked line
scribbled on a page.

A path can be a stopping place
to let the world pass by.

A path can be a rocky road
where every step is tricky.

A path can be a long, long road
that leads you to your home.

Margaret Simon, draft

The Kidlit Progressive Poem is with Tabatha today at The Opposite of Indifference.

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