I follow teacher/writer/photographer Kim Douillard who lives in California. I envy her beach photos. Images of the beach take me away. They have the power to relax me. This photo brought me joy. One of my grandsons is particularly attracted to bubbles. If he is having a tough time, a single session of bubble time will soothe him. What is it about bubbles that is both fascinating and calming?
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
My mind has been on hearts and monarchs. For Valentine’s Day, I gave each of my students a small canvas to create a heart-inspired art piece. We looked at Pinterest images and got inspired. They enjoyed spending time focused on design and playing with paint.
Heart art by Jaden
In my email inbox, the Poetry Foundation Poem-of-the-Day was a concrete poem in the shape of half of a heart. I used the idea to create a poem for Laura Shovan’s poetry challenge. It was a challenge. I managed to make the shape, but I’m not sure if I managed a cohesive poem.
Margaret Simon, draft 2022
I came home to find four monarchs hanging out in my butterfly enclosure. Such beautiful creatures. I am worried, though, because we are still having cold temperatures. I released two of them in the afternoon 60 degrees. Today the temps will climb to 70, so I’ll release the other two.
Welcome to Wednesday again. Time to take a minute to observe, breathe, and write. This week’s photo is one I took of balancing stones I’ve placed in a front flower bed. I gathered the stones from a labyrinth at Solomon House, our church’s outreach mission. The labyrinth was not being used and there were some maintenance issues, so the board decided to dismantle it. I feel the stones still have spiritual significance, so I stacked them. The literal term is cairn.
Balancing Stones, by Margaret Simon
For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. Romans 12:4-5
What are your gifts? How do you balance gifts and beauty and time? Will you ever find peace of mind? Look to the stones. Together they form one balanced structure. It’s possible.
Margaret Simon
Please share a snippet of a poem/ thoughts in the comments. Encourage other writers with comments.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Time collage by Linda Mitchell
This month I am participating in Laura Shovan’s February poetry project on Facebook. The theme this year is Time. This beautiful collage made by Linda Mitchell was our prompt on Monday. So much to write about, but I focused on the couple dancing. This weekend my husband and I were dancing to one of our favorite bands, Steve Riley and the Mamou Playboys at an event at the Acadiana Center for the Arts. Opportunities to dance have been few during the pandemic. We were a little rusty, but so happy to be out there again. A nearby friend captured a photo of us on the dance floor.
Time in a Picture Frame
The photographer shutters the moment mid-glide of a waltz. You were smiling at him in the way a person whose known someone for a long time- familiarity mixed with joy.
In your mind’s eye, the planets spin an orbit of protection. No matter what, the photo will always show joy.
You do not know when loss will reveal something else hidden there- a child looking on or the tail of an astronaut’s lifeline.
This week’s photo comes from Janet Fagel’s daughter-in-law who captured a special moment when her children, Janet’s grandchildren, were walking at Washington Crossing Park in New Jersey.
Out for a brisk walk with their wonderful mom, the kids ask: Can we be adventurers today? Her answer? Absolutely!!!
Janet Fagel
Adventurers, by Kate Fagel
On Facebook, a friend responded “The first photo reminds me of this photo by W. Eugene Smith. It is on the last page of the book The Family of Man.”
Photo by W. Eugene Smith
I’m loving this line as a striking line for a poem.
We walk a step & another into a magical world side by side, brother to sister we’ll always be. We were born born for this adventure under a canopy of trees, your refuge the sound of our footsteps. Margaret Simon, draft
Please write your own small poem in the comments or on your blog. Leave encouraging comments for other writers. Most of all, have fun!
Last Wednesday I invited Mary Lee Hahn to teach my class. She is a retired 5th grade teacher in Ohio. Her poem Riches is the first poem in Amy Ludwig VanDerwater’s invaluable teacher resource Poems are Teachers. I wanted to share Mary Lee’s poem with my students and when I emailed her, she agreed to meet with my students. The marvel of technology makes author visits reasonable, practical, and possible.
Mary Lee wrote Riches about a photograph. She told us that the bird bath had frozen over with a myriad of leaves in it. Her husband removed the slab of ice and placed it in the sun, and she photograph it. The play of light in the ice attracted her eye and her poetic self.
Riches by Mary Lee Hahn
Mary Lee talked to my students about all the things that she thought about when she wrote the poem. She included thoughts from a book she was reading as well as loving thoughts about her husband, how he sees things that she doesn’t notice.
Today, I invite you to sit with all that is in your head alongside this photo. What surfaces for you? Write a small poem in the comments or on Facebook or on your own blog (or all three!). Be sure to encourage other writers with comments.
My student Avalyn (2nd grade) came to class today and performed for me a poem she had heard on TicTok. At first I wasn’t really paying attention, but as she spoke on, I was drawn in. She memorized Brown Eyes by Nadia McGhee. The line that was in my head when I composed my poem is “Your eyes carry earthquakes that bring mountains to their knees.”
Your eyes like the brown of a leaf in winter glimmer in the sunlight and smile at me when you say, “I love this poem!”
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
I try not to complain. I try to see the good in each day. Really, there is good in each day. But yesterday I got this haiku from a friend in Facebook Messenger.
It made me laugh, and I couldn’t resist playing along.
Haiku of my life at 5:00 on Monday.
My ribs are bruised Coffee has lost its sweetness Raindrops in my hair.
Margaret Simon
Sliding with “Tuffy”, age 60 and age 28 months.
This photo gives a clue to my injury. See that rather thick siding on the slide, just thick enough to bruise a rib on the way down. Can’t a Mamère have any fun!?
But I will not leave this post without hope. I am currently nurturing about 20 monarch caterpillars in my kitchen. Last week before a hard freeze, I got a text from Jennie who tends the garden at a local school: “There’s a bunch of monarchs at Sugarland. Do you have any desire to bring them in from cold? Thank you, Caterpillar hero!” On my way home I stopped by the school, found an open gate, and cut lots of milkweed with caterpillars feasting. I’m posting updates periodically on Instragram.
My January Kitchen
A net enclosure holds milkweed to feed future beauty-wings
Winter is here and in many places around the US, mounds of snow. In the deep south, we are expecting an Arctic blast later this week that may (accent on the word may) bring a mix of winter precipitation. The last time I was able to build any semblance of a snowman was in March of 1988. This is not true for my friend Molly in Maine. She posted a most amazing snowgirl that her daughter, Lydia, had created using old garden leftovers to accessorize. Let’s entertain our child-muse today and write a small poem about her. Feel free to give her a name.
Snow Girl by Molly Hogan
Betty White
Blonde pom-pom poofs fool you into thinking this girl is ditsy. Don’t underestimate a girl with sunlight in her hair. She’s a star in her own galaxy.
January has so far given us temperatures as high as 80 degrees and as low as 29. I’ve brought plants in (and back out and back in). I’ve gathered milkweed with monarch caterpillars. I’ve worn a heavy coat and shorts. Winter in South Louisiana has gotten weird. The Japanese magnolias are in full bloom. The sunrise and sunset are bright red. Since the New Year, I’ve released three monarch butterflies. And everywhere, Omicron Covid is on the steep rise. Nature is speaking. Is anyone listening?
Last night I had chosen a sunset photo from my phone; however, a sweep through Facebook revealed an amazing natural phenomenon from my friend and naturalist Susan H. Edmunds. She granted creative permission, so today I give you a rabbit hole you could choose to go down: frost flowers.
Frost flowers! When the temperature quickly drops, as it did last night in rural St. Martin Parish, sap remaining in the plants’ stems begin to freeze and crack the stem. When this liquid exudes through the minute cracks, it freezes and forms beautifully delicate frost flowers that vanish when the sun’s golden rays touch them. Isn’t nature just grand?
Susan H. Edmunds, Facebook Jan. 11, 2022
Frost flowers by Susan H. Edmunds
Golden light on frost illuminates, melts away cold morning moment.
Margaret Simon, draft
Write your own small poem in the comments. Leave encouraging comments for other writers.
We are gathering again for the first Thursday of each month. This is an open invitation to any blogger who would like to join us. We post on the first Thursday of the month. Each month is hosted by a different blogger. We do not adhere to any specific religious affiliation. We are here to express our thoughts about how our spiritual lives are going. Let me know in the comments or by email if you’d like to be on the list of participants.
Blessings, Margaret
I’ve been choosing a One Little Word to guide my year for many years now. I have a collection of MudLove bracelets that express my different words. I’ve even begun a practice of gifting little words to some of my friends. It’s probably against the OLW policy to assign someone a word, but the friends who receive one seem to like the idea. At an NCTE conference sometime around 2014, I was given a MudLove bracelet. I love wearing my word.
Enough, 2022
My word came to me while I was reading Jess Keating’s Epic Email.
Everything you need is inside you. The tough stuff alchemizes to create the good stuff. Your story is enough. What you value is enough. Your desire is enough.
Today I listened to Glennon Doyle’s podcast We Can Do Hard Things. She said that January branding has got it all wrong with New year, New you. “It suggests we hate ourselves. It’s insulting.”
At our core, in our soul, we are who we are. And to quote Popeye, “I yam what I yam.” Who I am is enough. I do not need to change myself. Of course, I could exercise more or cook more often or get more involved in social activism. But who I am at 60 is the same me as I was at 50, 40, 30, 20, 10… Embracing my inner self gives me safety to open up for new experiences that enrich me. And if a challenge comes along, I am ready. I am enough.
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 