I’ve been raising Gulf Fritillaries in a butterfly enclosure. One day this week we came into the classroom to find one butterfly and within minutes, like magic, there were three. Unlike monarchs, these seem to just pop out in seconds. We haven’t witness the emerging yet.
I am participating in Mary Lee Hahn’s #haikuforhealing on Instagram. This is a way to put beauty out into the world. Join me and my students today writing about the miracles of nature.
Open your wings Flutter in sacred silence Then let go and fly
With my fifth and sixth grade students, I am reading Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse. I’m amazed at the parallels of the Dust Bowl to our current climate crisis in Louisiana, but that is a post for another time. Today I am determined to focus on beauty.
The poem Apple Blossoms was our mentor text. I wrote alongside my students about our favorite fruits. Mine is currently overflowing on a tree in our backyard, the satsuma.
after Karen Hesse “Apple Blossoms” Out of the Dust
Not just an orange, you are the ultimate citrus, hanging like golden ornaments on our tree near the fence where butterflies play and spiders web.
Your easy-to-peel goodness makes anticipation grow in fall, until by Halloween, the tree is full, overflowing, drooping, dripping inviting me to basket a gift for you to share juicy sweetness and smile!
Prayer candles in St. James Episcopal Church, 2024 by Margaret Simon
I was in my childhood home church on Sunday. While the scent of incense lingered, I walked over to the columbarium to say hello to my dad. I saw the metal rack of votive candles. I decided to light a candle for my mother, in hospice care at the end stages of Alzheimer’s, and one for my daughter’s mother-in-law who is battling cancer. To light a candle for someone symbolizes the prayer intention. Do we need this symbols? I believe we can pray without them, of course, but something in me was comforted by the act of lighting.
I invite you to consider holy moments, whether they be in church or out in nature, perhaps even in the quiet of your day. We can set intentions and practice mindfulness. What are your intentions today? Write a small poem in the comments and encourage others who write with us.
Instead of empty… fill Instead of fallow… fertile Instead of loss… love Instead of lies… truth Instead of hopelessness… faith
Granddaughter June, 22 months, pointing at an alligator at Avery Island, Louisiana.
My daughter joined my older daughter and her kids at Avery Island, Louisiana, a few miles south of us. It’s the home of the Tabasco plant. The place is beautiful, set on an inlet from the Gulf of Mexico. The water is fresh water and yes, there are gators there. Alligators are generally not aggressive animals. They peacefully float along the surface. I’m not sure, but this might have been June’s first time to see an alligator out in the wild.
Let’s play with enjambment today. Enjambment is a poetic element in which a sentence or phrase continues from one poetic line to the next, without end punctuation. Enjambment can create a surprise or suspense.
Here’s an example from Maggie Smith’s poem “First Fall”:
“I’m your guide here. In the evening-dark morning streets, I point and name. Look, the sycamores, their mottled paint-by-number bark. Look, the leaves”
Here is my draft:
Your finger is the guide here, pointing, noticing, identifying first gator. You say, “Foggie,” and Mom repeats, “That’s an alligator!” You point again, fumble over new syllables, soaking up space, place, and being a toddler on tour. Margaret Simon, draft
If you have a tree covered in moss, then you must hang a ghost there.
I’ve taken a number of pictures of Halloween decorations thinking about the photo for this week. This one is the winner. In my neck of the woods (South Louisiana), moss covered trees are common. My husband grew up calling it “spooky moss”. It is the common Spanish moss, and on some trees, the stuff practically takes over the tree, even though I’ve read that moss is a bromeliad in the pineapple family and does not harm the tree.
“Many homeowners think that Spanish moss kills their trees. This is not the case because the moss is not parasitic. The only thing Spanish moss uses trees for is support.” University of Florida.
Yesterday as we were writing metaphors for artifacts in nature (#WriteOut), Avalyn created this form: The (A, An) object in nature is/is like … describe how it is like end with a connection to life
I tried the form when writing about milkweed seeds. I combined it with a prompt from Ethical ELA to write with words from paint chips here.
A milkweed seed is a great white egret showing off its lacy wings to the mirrored pool in the sky. Margaret Simon, draft
Spanish moss are stalactites hanging on a crepe myrtle hosting ghostly terrormites. Margaret Simon, draft
Now it’s your turn. You can try Avalyn’s form or use your own. Please encourage other writers with your responses. Happy Halloween!
Recently I’ve had three different friends travel to Scotland. I think it’s a sign that I am meant to travel there. And, of course “Outlander” on Netflix is my current binge obsession. Mary Lee has been posting daily albums on Facebook of her travels. I chose this one, but they are all amazing. Can’t you just hear the bagpipes and feel the cool breeze?
Let’s travel today in our poems. Where would you like to go? Maybe a stay-cation is all you need. Close your eyes and dream. Please leave a poem in the comments and respond to other writers.
Mary Lee is writing daily cherita poems of one line, two lines, three lines that tell a complete story. So I chose the cherita form.
Scotland calls me
to hear the wind roar across the sea
and be a traveler wondering isle to isle seeking Skye.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
This is Just to Say
I have forgotten the words to that song you sang to me
and which you are probably humming in your head while you sleep.
Forgive me: I will sing along with you anyway.
Margaret Simon, after William Carlos Williams
I believe in daily poetry, but I fell off the Stanford Challenge for writing a poem a day. Lately the new book from Sarah Donovan, Mo Daley, and Maureen Young Ingram, 90 Ways of Community is helping. Each day I present one of the prompts to my students and write alongside them. They are responding so well to this daily practice. I hope you don’t mind if I share a few here. First up is a skinny poem by Grayson.
White void endless space just waiting wondering no thoughts waiting, I’m tired of waiting in this endless void, white space that is just too empty.
by Grayson, 5th grade
We’ve explored ourselves and written I am From poems.
I am from crunching leaves and windy days.
I am from books, and books, and even more books.
I am from the Bayou, and I am from the trees. I come from murky waters and lush green leaves and sturdy branches.
I am from the scratching of a pen, and the flick of a brush.
I am from the smell of cigarette smoke and an autumn evening.
I am from a household, a household holding four. A mother of books, a father of autumn, a daughter of both, and a sister of all.
by Adelyn, 6th grade
Each week I invite my students to write to a photograph. They are free to choose their own form even as I model a form for them.
Old tree Stays in the backyard Is surrounded by water and ferns Waiting outside on the porch for the sunrise Lovely morning
by Marifaye, 5th grade
If you would like to write a poem to a photo, please join me on this blog on Wednesdays: This Photo Wants to be a Poem. I wish for you daily poetry.
Bayou morning with rope swing, photo by Margaret Simon
I’ve been working through the new book 90 Ways of Community by Sarah Donovan, Mo Daley, and Maureen Young Ingram of Ethical ELA. Daily I’ve been reading a prompt to my students and writing alongside them. Today’s prompt comes from Linda Mitchell. Her original prompt suggests to find a list of words in our notebooks to write along to. Her sample poem is “Wishing Well Price List” which led me to think of the song from the musical Oliver, Who Will Buy?.
I took this photo at sunrise on Sunday morning. Hanging from our grandmother oak is a rope swing. I began to imagine how many people over the years have swung on that rope. My grandchildren don’t have the strength yet in their toddler bodies to hold on, but they love swinging the rope and running to keep it from hitting them, a game they made up.
This photo may take you on a journey to another place in your memory. Let it go and write a small poem in the comments. Respond to others with encouraging words.
Who will buy this sunglow on water?
Who will buy the fallsteam rising?
Who will buy a twist of rope to swing on?
Who will buy this changing of seasons? I find a reason to keep my spirits high wondering who will buy.
Writing in a community of writers has led me to so many wonderful connections with other teacher-writers from all over the world. I discovered the writing community at Ethical ELA in the spring of 2020 when we were all isolated. Being able to find meaningful writing prompts and support from others helped me feel less alone.
Now, four years later, I am honored to be involved in a book project. I have two chapters in a book that gives teachers an understanding of how poetry can be healing in our classrooms and beyond. Words that Mend is here, alongside its sister books 90 Ways of Community and Just YA.
One of my chapters in Words that Mend appears in the section Teacher Healing titled Walking through Grief with Poetry. I wrote about my grief journey after my father’s death and how writing poems helped me process that grief. The comments others left for me on my poems felt authentic and caring. Healing from grief doesn’t happen quickly, if ever, but finding a space for sharing my thoughts in poetry gave me a purpose. And having this book now out in the world gives me purpose.
The second chapter I wrote is titled Write Along with Me, An Invitation Accepted. I wrote about how one of my students used poetry in my class to carry her through grief and how she reached out to me to start a small after school writing group. In that chapter, you can find writing prompts that worked for me as I worked with her. In fact, each chapter includes a section for a prompt for teachers and students.
Penny Kittle wrote this about Words that Mend:
“My time reading Words that Mend was not only worth it, it has multiplied my thinking about teachers as writers in profound ways. These chapters contain the lives and experiences of teachers—written like a colleague who pulls up a chair to sit beside you—and you lean in, listening with intensity and joy. What a gift this book is: it holds so much. Words that Mend is the invitation each of us needs to write in community. In celebration. In support. In discovery of what it means to bring poetry into the lives of all those we know. There is a particular generosity in this book: one of personal experiences, yes, but also the hesitations all writers feel to show their lives in writing. You will find beginnings here (even a notebook page of first thoughts) that will inspire you to write. You will find lesson plans already worn and weathered by use in classrooms. Do not turn from the gift of Words that Mend: you need it more than you might think you do.”
~Penny Kittle, author Write Beside Them, Book Love, and Micro Mentor Texts
Words that Mend is now available for purchase on Amazon (for printing cost only) and a free pdf download on Ethical ELA here.
Sarah Donovan, Oklahoma State University, curator of Ethical ELA tells our story on YouTube:
We will have an online event at 2:00PM CST on September 22nd to celebrate and write together. Stay tuned!
Every evening after dinner, my husband and I take the puppy out for a walk. Last night my gaze was up at the sky watching small birds circle and swoop above us. I opened my Merlin bird identification app and found they were chimney swifts.
The sun was setting and coloring the clouds a deep purple and pink. After a few attempts, I captured some of these “swift” birds against the canvas of the sky.
Write a small poem today inspired by this photo. Please share it with us in the comments and respond to other writers. Thanks for being here.
A Swift Fib
Small swifts circle purple sky speckling the evening with dazzling twittering delight @Margaret Simon, draft
A fib poem has a syllable count that follows the Fibonacci series (1,1,2,3,5,8…)
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 
