On Memorial Day, I visited a sunflower farm out in the country with my family. I brought a bucket load home and made 5 vases full. It was fun to give them away to neighbors. I kept this large one for myself. It made its happy face known in my kitchen. Since the sunflower seed head is a fibonacci sequence, I decided to write a fib poem. A fib poem is 20 syllables as each line follows the sequence, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8.
Face it! I glow yellowbright on tables, in fields– Happiness grows if you let it.
Margaret Simon, draft
Please leave your own poem in the comments and encourage other writers with responses. Happy Summer!
My one little word for 2024 is Peace, so when Paula Bourque posted a selection of photos with the comment “peaceful morning walk”, I asked permission to use one as a prompt. I think many of us are seeking peace at this time of the year. After the frantic slide to the end of the school year, I know that I am. I usually start dreaming of vacations, the beach, and late evenings of relaxation. Summer is a field of possibility.
Welcome Summer
You shine on through morning my waking dreams sunflower faces open to a new day sharing your inspiring light glowing fields of tall prairie grass welcoming peaceful dawn of summer
Today I practiced a nonet draft. Please add your own small poems in the comments. Encourage other responders with encouraging words. Thanks for stopping by.
I recently wrote a poem about the loss of an old oak for the sake of a new road. We discussed my poem in the Inklings writing group on Sunday. Molly texted this photo to the group. “I thought of our conversation when I was walking in a nearby town and discovered they’d cut down tons of trees as they repair the sidewalks. It made me so sad. Someone had placed these small cloth notes on the remains.”
I was considering a butterfly photo for today, but when she sent this, it hit me in my gut. We have to use poetry to resist. This itself is poetry of resistance.
The roots are sewing messages of sorrow– saying goodbye to their masters, the trunk and branches they served for years. Underground, the roots hold hands in solidarity grieving and wishing the world would understand. Margaret Simon, draft
Please leave a small poem in the comments paying homage to the trees. Remember to respond with encouragement to other writers.
Storms seem to pop up out of nowhere these days. This week we had one blow through that knocked out an outdoor light in a literal flash, Crash! What does this photo conjure for you? Fear? Curiosity? Memory? Please leave a small poem in the comments.
I haven’t written a skinny poem in a while. The rules are 11 lines, the first and last uses the same words and can be any length. The other lines are one word with a repeated word in lines 2, 6, and 10.
Storms come suddenly in the night bearing violent windswept voice bearing climate change stress Suddenly, in the night, storms come.
Molly Hogan captured this funny photo on a recent outing into the marsh in Maine. I love how she captured the reflection as well. These shorebirds are called yellowlegs for the obvious reason that they have yellow legs, but I think watching them skitter along the shore would bring a smile to anyone’s face.
Let this photo be your muse this morning as we get closer to slower, beach-filled days of summer. I welcome the extra time, but not the heat. Our temperatures in the south are already inching up to 90 degrees. Leave a small poem in the comments.
I’m back to my daily elfchen practice. A reminder of the form: eleven words, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1. The first word introduces the topic, the second tells what it does, the third where it is, and the fourth how it makes you feel (I go for a metaphor in this line), ending with a word of transformation from the first word.
Yellowlegs toothpick race across sandy marsh. No one wins a prize– Solidarity.
This week is state testing week, so I did not pull my gifted students out from their regular classrooms. I’m on stand-by to help if needed. But I do get to see my youngest ones. William, first grade, was only recently placed in gifted services. His gifted brain is so full of ideas that he can barely settle on one thing. I asked him to work with me on a haiku about a rainbow. We talked about how a haiku form captures a single moment in time, usually about nature, and has 3 lines, short, long, short. We played around with word order and placement of his ideas. Then he came out with the word “surprise.” Ah yes, that’s it!
Reflex (relects) in the warter (water). a rainbow comes out of clouds. surprise in the sky
William’s first haiku, 1st grade
Carson in 2nd grade has been working with me all year long. He’s more independent in his writing, but still needs reassurance. I showed him a video from Mystery Science about how the rain becomes a prism to refract the white light into a colorful rainbow.
Rainbows are still a mystery to me even though I have this knowledge. When I see an actual rainbow in the sky, I often take a picture. My husband knows to stop for rainbows. If you are drawn to them, to Molly’s amazing photo, and want to add your writing to the collection, go back to this post on Wednesday.
Sunlight prism in the water makes rainbows arch of colors
Carson, 2nd grade
While I was checking my Fanschool post, I realized that even though Adelyn was not coming to class, she checked on our weekly “This Photo Wants to be a Poem” post and wrote. She is crazy about all things mythological. Can you tell?
The great color arc, stretching above us. As water vapor shimmers bright in shining light, Iris glows.
Adelyn, 5th grade
After a skipped day on Thursday (no worries, just busy life), Karin introduces a new character.
Welcome to Wednesday This Photo Wants to Be a Poem Day. While you are here, take a moment to be in/ with the featured photograph. When you feel moved to write, write a small poem inspired by the photo. Leave some or all of your creation in a comment. Respond to other writers with positive feedback.
Today’s photo was taken by Molly Hogan. She is a teacher-poet-photographer friend in Maine. When I first saw and saved this photo, I hadn’t seen the full reflection in the water. I’m not sure where this photo was located, but I want to be there today. Don’t you?
God encircles us rainbow stretched over water glows endless hope
For Poem in Your Pocket Day, I invited Marcie Flinchum Atkins to join my students by Zoom. We were able to get a small 30 minute window of time while she could visit. What a treat!
Marcie is a master at haiku, and no wonder, she writes one every day. She usually writes in a small notebook to photos that she has taken. Beautiful photos!
Her easy-going way led to a comfortable, safe environment for writing. My students wrote. I wrote. Like Marcie, I wanted to use a photo and Canva to design my haiku for publication. Maybe one day I’ll send them out on postcards.
At one of my schools, we are rejuvenating the butterfly garden. The purple salvia has come back after winter and is thick and covered with blossoms. We’ve been spending recess time there among these flowers, tilling and planting new feeding plants. Avalyn, my garden partner, wrote a haiku and asked me to put it on Canva like mine.
The Kidlit Progressive Poem is with Catherine Flynn today. Check on our little immigrant hero.
Visits with my mother are hard on me. I don’t live near enough to get used to her Alzheimer’s silence, the confused look in her eyes. I keep thinking one of these days I will accept this. But it seems so unfair. She was such a vibrant and thoughtful person. She is safe and happy and generally in good health, so I convince myself I should feel gratitude. Despair and grief take over. I can’t even look at this photo without tears welling up.
At Ethical ELA, we were prompted by Katrina to write about a photograph. I chose the one above.
We see a child delighted to hug his great grandmother generations of love passed on with a kiss on top of his head.
We don’t see the grief seeping into the moment the loss of a mother whose memories fleet past through empty eyes always questioning.
Spider Lily among cypress knees on Bayou Teche, Louisiana
I wanted this swamp lily to be a star lily, but research is telling me it’s a variety of spider lily. On Ethical ELA, the prompt by Wendy Everard asks us to explore the place of a favorite poet. I chose Mary Oliver and a striking line from her poem Fall: “what is spring all that tender/ green stuff”
I’m not sure what heaven is but amazement like spring when all green that was hiding in tender seed fills green bridal bouquets blossoming beautiful stuff.
Margaret Simon, draft
I’m also writing a word poem each day. Today’s word is vernal which means of, in, or appropriate to spring. Today’s form is an acrostic.
Variety of colors eagerly popping- resurrection- nature’s recital. April, I Love you.
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She is a retired elementary gifted teacher who writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 