For as long as I’ve been teaching elementary kids, I’ve use “Mrs. Simon’s Sea” as a classroom theme. I’ve decorated with sea-themed everything, from nametags to notepads. Even our blog was called “Mrs. Simon’s Sea.” So naturally I am pleased by sea-themed poetry.
This anthology has a little bit of everything you could want in a poetry book, poems in rhyme, poems in form, and poems that tell a story. These poems will put you under the ocean alongside sea turtles, sharks, and octopuses. You’ll feel the storms, the rhythm of the waves, and sing along with fish. One of my favorite fiction authors, Linda Mullaly Hunt, tells a story of a clever seal who outsmarts a shark.
Children can learn facts about ocean life through zippy and lyrical language. The illustrations by a variety of artists are delightful.
A book launch event is scheduled for November 15th at 4:00 EST sponsored by Peter Reynolds and Blue Bunny Books.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Teaching through a screen is hard. I can’t tell what my students are doing. Their mikes are muted; their personal icon doesn’t move. Trying to have a book discussion was like talking to a mirror. The only good thing about that was I could see my face getting more and more exasperated. Why weren’t they answering me? The questions weren’t that hard.
To relate to the main character’s discovery of Langston Hughes’ poetry, we watched a video of Langston Hughes reading Weary Blues.
I read aloud Hughes’ “Homesick Blues.” And tried to talk about what makes someone feel homesick. I was talking to myself, or so it seemed. After I gave up, I set the timer for a 5 minute writing time. In the chat, I wrote 5 different lines from Langston Hughes’ blues poems. I admit I didn’t have high expectations.
As always I asked for volunteers to read. Lashawn’s mike turned green and his soft voice said, “I’ll read.”
The silver lining, the golden thread, my poet heart pattered with emotion and joy. Lashawn gave me permission to share his poem.
My Body’s Feeling Wrong
I feel as I need to do better do better just do better. that’s all I need to do. But why can’t I do it? is something distracting me? Am I filled with bad luck? I get blamed but it’s not me. no explaining can help me. I tell the truth not a fib at all. but a liar is what I get called.
I feel like they are talking about me. It’s just no use for me. Change my look to let everyone know. Just a smile is what everyone else needs. not me though. I get asked if I’m fine and alright. No I’m not fine. Because if I was, my body would have looked right.
I feel a bit empty just a friend all I need. I lay down at nighttime. I was bullied by online Meanies. I watch some anime but nothing can heal me. At least I didn’t lose my life to sadness. I’ll still be here even If i’m sad. But hey as I shed a tear. I just made some people laugh. As more tears come down I smile it out.
My body may look wrong but I make other people feel bright. Thanks to my friends for being by my side. I’m happy I made all of you smile.
Do you love to travel? I do, but my travel this year has been vicariously through a Facebook group called “Women Who Keep Traveling.” This week, Jan posted a call for photos in different color schemes. “Show us something green from the travel pics on your phone. The more random the better.”
I enjoyed scrolling through the random photos. This one appealed to me for our week’s prompt. The photo comes from Crystal Bridges Museum in Bentonville, AR taken by Aimée Dominique.
Would you like to try a new form? My student Chloe invented a form she calls a Penta-poem with the syllable count of 5,4,3,2,1,2,3,4,5. She also thought about calling it an hourglass poem because the resulting poem looks like an hour glass.
Please share your poem drafts in the comments and write encouraging replies on other poems.
A maze of red hills dancing landscape ribbon stream Seuss-like dream wonder fantasy hallway jungle unique artistry
When we write poems to a photo, we enter a process of collaboration. A meeting between the photographer and the poet, the image and the words. In collaboration, one can have a conversation, an inquiry, or a conviction. Do your beliefs about the world come through in your poems? Are you communicating or responding? Are you participating or letting the muse take control?
I invite you to reflect on your process today as you write. Leave a small poem in the comments as well as a reflection of your thoughts.
photograph by Molly Hogan
Perspective
The tracks rise to a point on the horizon disappearing into a mist.
We know beyond the page, the path goes on and on.
Margaret Simon, draft
My reflection: Perspective is something an artist has to learn. If you draw two parallel lines, they must converge to give the impression of a continuing road. Our horizon line is not a finite place. The earth is round. When I think about this in a spiritual, metaphorical sense, I think of our own path through life. There is a mirage of an end, but there is always another turn to make.
Note to my readers: We are in the path of Hurricane Delta. School has been cancelled for today and tomorrow. We are preparing. We have a strong house (and a friendly generator named Sparky). I appreciate your thoughts and prayers.
Old barn between Kalispell and White Fish, Montana by Jan Risher
How many of us have wanderlust? After pandemic shut downs have kept us homebound with theaters, museums, and art galleries closed, many of us have suffered from the strong desire to go somewhere else. My friend, journalist Jan Risher, hit the road a few weeks ago with her husband. Finding travel somewhat doable again, she posted picture after picture of our amazing country.
I was drawn in by her pictures of Montana. We were there only a few summers ago and enjoyed a train ride from Seattle to White Fish. To see more of Jan’s pictures, follow her on Instagram. To read her article about her trip, click The Advocate.
If the spirit moves, write a small poem in the comments. Please encourage other writers with kind comments. I’m sorry this post is late today. I discovered that I can access my blog on my school computer, but I can’t edit or publish the post.
Here where land reaches up to sky with a hand on the heart of America… We see sacred space.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
I know school looks different for most teachers this year. For me, I spend my whole day in one building. For the last 12 years, I’ve been an itinerate teacher, traveling to 3 schools each day. Now I travel through a screen to different students. I’m providing virtual gifted services for students who’ve chosen the virtual option. I’m learning very quickly what kinds of writing activities work well and which ones do not in this virtual setting.
Last week I presented a question for quick writing. Yesterday I used a different approach. I presented a poem and asked students to take a line and write from that line. It seemed to go well; however, the kids were not throwing their hands up (or turning their mikes on) to read what they wrote. This is the part I can’t quite figure out. Do they just need more time or is this how it’s going to be?
I still believe in writing alongside my students, so I wrote a poem with them. The poem we were reading together came from Teach this Poem from Poets.org, Cento Between the Ending and the End. The lines I took frame the poem. Before sharing my poem, I explained that when we write together in quick writes, we often write about whatever is on our mind at that moment. My youngest daughter is getting married in our backyard in 3 weeks. As plans begin to finalize, I am getting excited about the family (immediate family only) that with gather with us.
Unopened Gift
Everyone we love is gathered around the bride and groom. Side by side, their eyes glow.
We understand this kind of love, tender and new, like a gift waiting to be discovered.
We hold their hearts in our hands, bless them with all that we have. Send them to the blue sky brimming with golden light.
With my 6th grader, Daniel, we wrote back and forth (in a shared document), adding lines to create a Cento* poem. When the first stanza turned out to rhyme, it was a challenge to keep it going. We were both pleased with the results.
I soar to the sun Look down at the sea Bloom how you must, wild Until we are free.
I wish I could share All that’s in my heart. It’s like the world That keeps us apart.
Everyone we love Gathered at the lakeside Marble-glow the fire A new one inside
I wish I could live The body whole bright- Of the day beautiful, Honeyed light.
Cento from I Wish I Knew by Nina Simone and Cento Between the Ending and the End by Cameron Awkward-Rich
*From the Latin word for “patchwork,” the cento (or collage poem) is a poetic form composed entirely of lines from poems by other poets.
I’m in my second week of teaching, and it’s going pretty well, despite the weather which has been churned up by Tropical Storm Beta. Dreaming of travel, I took notice of Paula Bourque’s pictures from Maine. She’s taking day-adventures with her husband. This was her message on Sunday:
Mornings are filled with meaningful lessons. They show me that everything changes and moves on. If I can embrace that, I can be open to new wonders and stop wishing for what was, to always be. Life is change. Sunday sermon over.
Paula Bourque, Facebook post
Paula is the author of Spark! Quick Writes to Kindle Hearts and Minds in Elementary Classrooms. We met at NCTE last year when I was the “chair” of her round table session. She presented ways to use images to prompt quick writes in the classroom. So here I am, full circle, using one of her photos as a prompt for a quick write.
Sunrise at Gardiner Landing by Paula Bourque
Leave a small poem in the comments or jot one in your journal. If you share, please respond to other writers with encouraging words.
I would like to be remembered* as someone who softened things like the still, blue surface of a lake at dawn.
Margaret Simon, draft
words from a Ruth Bader Ginsburg quote, “I would like to be remembered as someone who used whatever talent she had to do her work to the very best of her ability.”
Last week I posted a poem I wrote for my mother-in-law, a work commissioned by her for a local writing festival fundraiser. I commissioned a poem for myself and selected Bonny McDonald to write it for me.
Bonny and I have lost touch over the years, so I enjoyed our email exchanges that put us back into that comfortable place of friendship. You know the kind. When you feel like you were never really separated.
Bonny didn’t just take the questionnaire that was given by the Festival of Words organization. No, she emailed me more questions like What makes you think of your ancestors, and what messages do you get or teachings do you carry in your heart from those who came before you in your family?
My answers to that question and to “Who is your favorite poet lately?” (Jericho Brown) led to this wonderful duplex poem just for me. I cried when she read it at the Zoom event.
Namesake
A duplex for Margaret Simon, inspired by the portrait of her grandmother, Margaret Shields Liles
The mother of your mother is with you Margaret, still, a figure in a painting
Margaret’s figure sits still in the painting Her violin poised to spring up for a tune
A tune fit for a violin springs up For the child of your child in your lap
Oh child of my child, a song for you I wrote a few verses to leave with you
Now to leave them is what’s left to do A note resonates with the lift of the bow
A note resonates a little while Harmonics hold to a foundation
Your grandchildren hold you to the place where The mother of your mother is with you
Bonny McDonald, all rights reserved
This portrait of my grandmother Margaret hangs in my dining room.
These first days of school have been exhausting. Yet I am happy to be doing what I am meant to do. When I get home, I mindlessly scroll through my Facebook feed. I love posts that relax my brain, beautiful landscapes, quotes, flowers…
This one caught my eye. I haven’t seen these colors yet. Dianne Dempsey-Legnon posted this wistful message, “It’s almost here. Looking forward to the crunch of leaves under my feet, the crackle of a fireplace, and cinnamon in my hot tea.” Ah, yes! With all the back to school prep, I forgot that the season is changing. Fall will come.
Photo taken on Pig Trail outside of Hot Springs, Arkansas by Dianne Dempsey-Legnon, 2019
In the comments, post a small poem inspired by the photo. Please comment on other writers with encouraging words.
Fall in the air makes me sneeze. Mumbled through a cloth mask, you say, Bless you and mean it.
I’ve been raising monarchs. See this post. I am also planning for hybrid teaching, some in person, some virtual. Finding my direction through these tasks has challenged me in new ways.
Male monarch by Judy Rizzo
The word alchemy came across my radar. I found this definition: “a seemingly magical process of transformation, creation, or combination.” The process of metamorphosis is alchemy and in many ways, so is the way we have to teach this year. I decided to mine alchemist for words using Wordmaker. Following a poetic process created by April Halprin Wayland, I wrote a poem that probably doesn’t make sense to anybody but me. Let’s just say, finding my direction through this unique school year has taken some proactive effort. (The words from Wordmaker are in bold.)
Finding Direction
Connect line by line, etch a trail through calm worry, eyes that smile despite each new hurdle to scale. Raise the latch and release butterfly-mail to the gods of ethics— Teach.
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 