Poetry | Reflections on the Teche

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

I Spy a Septercet

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged Jane Yolen, science poems, septercet on September 20, 2016| 12 Comments »

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If you follow my blog, you know I am a little obsessed with poetry. In the world of words, syllables, and sounds, I find puzzles in making them all fit together into something meaningful. Jane Yolen was recently featured on Michelle Barnes’ Today’s Little Ditty with a challenge to write septercets. This is a form Jane Yolen created with the pattern of seven syllables in three line stanzas.

I challenged my students to write septercets. And I played along.

I Spy

Looking for spinning spiders
hiding between limbs of trees
miraculous thread designs

Studying patterns of light
refraction reflecting bows
miraculous sky designs

Skipping stones from uncle’s pier
a ripple breaks the surface
miraculous water designs

–Margaret Simon

Can you write a septercet about the harvest moon above? Share in the comments and on Ditty of the Month padlet.

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Poetry Friday: Students Look for Hidden Poems

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, Teaching, tagged Naomi Shihab Nye, poem about poetry on September 9, 2016| 15 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Amy at The Poem Farm.

Naomi Shihab Nye visited our classroom this week. We watched her video of Valentine for Ernest Mann. Showing the video made it feel like she was right there with us having a conversation. Then we read the poem again and again, talking about it at length. This poem can start a classroom controversy over whether or not skunks are really beautiful.

I asked my students to re-read the poem again and find some words that speak to them and try out their own poem. I shared my poem. (posted here)

Sometimes poetry magic happens. It happened for Lani. She sat quietly with her notebook for a while and came to me to share this poem. She was proud that she wrote the poem from the point of view of the poem. I think she caught the golden fish on the first try.

You can try to look for me
and I won’t be there
I won’t be in a drawer or
in your pocket. I won’t be
on a shiny plate ready to
share. Since you can’t order
me like you order a
Big Mac at McDonalds
You will have to search for
me like archeologists search
for bones. It will take a
while to find me and
it won’t be easy if
I’m in your hair or in
a skunk’s eyes. You
just have to look. I can
be anywhere from the
outside to inside your home.
The most likely place that
I will be is in the back
of your mind, ready to
happen and be shared.

–Lani, 5th grade (after Naomi Shihab Nye’s Valentine for Ernest Mann)

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Slice of Cleaning Out

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged Naomi Shihab Nye on September 6, 2016| 15 Comments »

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This long Labor Day weekend was just the time I needed to clean out. Usually it’s a summer chore, but this summer I traveled quite a bit, so I put it off. In a month, my daughter is getting married. We are hosting the rehearsal dinner at our house. I want things to look nice.

Obviously, no one will be looking in my drawers, but I’ll know they are neat and organized.

Cleaning out also leads to memories. I found this Thanku poem written by Kylon when he was in third grade. I think he’s in 8th grade this year.

I was thinking about the little gems and memories today when I wrote poetry with my students. We were discussing Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem Valentine for Ernest Mann and how poems can hide.

Note: Kylon wrote this poem, but Kieran was the boy who cried on the last day of school. Both were gifts in their own way.

Poems Hide

Sometimes when you aren’t even looking, you find them,
tucked into the junk drawer, sticking out,
saying, “Here I am; Read me aloud!”

That’s where I found this poem.
I was looking for something else,
a roll of tape maybe,
but what I found was this gift
from that last day of school
when you cried into your mother’s lap
because you would never be in third grade again
with me,
with Mr. Pants, the class guinea pig,
or with that desk
that had become your sacred space.

Things change, Kieran,
but memories live on,
Like poems
in the junk drawer.

–Margaret Simon

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Poetry Friday: Gratitude

Posted in Gratitude, Poetry, Poetry Friday, Teaching, Writing, tagged Laura Foley, Mary Lee Hahn, Praise poem, Tara Smith on August 25, 2016| 18 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Heidi at My Juicy Little Universe

A few weeks ago, Mary Lee Hahn posted her poem Gratitude List as an exercise after Laura Foley’s Gratitude List. I immediately saved it to do with my students. This was the week of Gratitude, eating popcorn (Popcorn & Poetry), and writing our own Gratitude List. My students responded well to Laura Foley’s as well as Mary Lee’s poems. See this post to read these mentor texts.

As always, I write alongside my kids, so with a handful of popcorn and pictures from my trip to Tara’s farm, I fashioned my own version.

Praise be the morning mist,
the dewy grass, the crisp air,
and that moonrise last night
we raised a glass to.

Praise be a gathering of friends,
travels across miles, and the dog
that greeted each of us with a wagging tail.

Praise be the morning coffee, pancakes
covered in blueberries and maple syrup,
sweet, cool watermelon.
Praise be the wildflowers
in a canning jar.

–Margaret Simon (For Tara Smith)

I want to share a few lines from my students, too.

Praise be this afternoon
for gifted, the relaxing writing,
the fun of talking to friends,
reading a book.

Praise be Frootloop breakfast,
the hard floor under our feet
and a roof above our heads
and sunshine
after the flood.

–Madison, 3rd grade

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Poetry Friday: That was Summer

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, Teaching, Writing, tagged Marci Ridlon, student poems, That was Summer on August 12, 2016| 11 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with my birthday sister, Julieanne.

THAT WAS SUMMER
Marci Ridlon

Have you ever smelled summer?
Sure you have.
Remember that time
when you were tired of running
or doing nothing much
and you were hot
and you flopped right down on the ground?
Remember how the warm sun smelled and the
grass?
That was summer.
Read the whole poem here.

That was Summer was the first poem for my students to unpack this year. Yesterday was my birthday. (I share the day with two PF peeps, Linda Mitchell and Julieanne Harmatz.) To celebrate my day, we had popcorn. Somewhere online over the summer I saw pictures of a teacher’s classroom eating popcorn and discussing poetry, thus “popcorn poetry.” We started this fun tradition this week.

After reading and discussing That was Summer, I suggested that my students try out the form. Some did. Some chose another form. That’s OK. No requirements, just write what you want to write.

Madison and Jacob both chose to write about the taste of summer.

That was Summer by Jacob

Have you ever tasted summer?
Sure you have.
Remember that time
you rolled in the mud?
That was summer.

Remember that time
when you ran into
a field of flowers?
That was summer.

Remember that time
when you were so hot
you drank the ocean?
That was summer.

Remember that time
when you jumped into
a pile of leaves?
That was summer.

I tried out the form and enjoyed finding my own memories of summer.

That was Summer
after Marci Ridlon

Do you miss summer?
Sure, you do.
That easy time
when days are long,
the sun shines on and on.

Remember the time
when you chased the mosquito truck
in a cloud of toxic dust,
your father spanked you
for the first and last time?
That was summer.

Remember the time
when you gathered all the blankets, sheets, and pillows,
and built a fort in the living room,
an indoor camp-out with Karen and Ralph?
You shined flashlights and made the shadows dance.
That was summer.

Remember the time
when you lay awake
in your parents’ bed
waiting for the hurricane?
You whispered Is it here yet,
and wondered where all the birds and squirrels hid.
That was summer.

Remember the time
you waited for the sound of the sno-cone truck,
when Mary Had A Little Lamb
echoed over and over,
and you couldn’t help humming along?
Remember watching the sno-cone man
pour the syrup over ice
in rainbow flavors, strawberry, lemon, and bubblegum,
a trio of colors on your frozen tongue?
That was summer.

–Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

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Instagram Found Poem

Posted in Photography, Poetry, Poetry Friday, tagged Bonne Terre Cottage, found poem, Instagram on August 5, 2016| 14 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with my kind friend, Tara at a Teaching Life.

When I am in need of inspiration, I take a break and check my social media feeds. Maybe this is really just distraction, but today I followed the yellow brick road to a poem from posts on Instagram.

Rainbows over Bonne Terre farm in Breaux Bridge posted by my friend Jen. Click to visit her B&B page.

Ominous sky,
Rain,
Tall cane,
Summer day.

Fat caterpillar
crawling up
Up,
Up.

The one
I’m always becoming
has caught me
again and again.*

A surprise
around every corner.
A rainbow
named Sparkle,
Endless
fascination
inside
a life.

I can’t wait
to bloom.

–Margaret Simon

*Glennon Doyle Melton

Photo by Dan Spiller.

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Poetry Friday: Hollyhocks

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged Emily Dickinson, gardens, Nature poems on July 29, 2016| 29 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is here today. Leave your link .

Hollyhocks don’t grow here in South Louisiana. On a recent visit to upstate New York, I was attracted to their stately stalks with large blossoms. We encountered a few at the local garden supplier in Hebron, NY.

Later, Tara let me know that she went back and bought some for her garden.

Hollyhocks at Old Bedlam Farm.

And then I encountered an image in Better Homes and Gardens. I didn’t order this magazine, but it seems to keep showing up in the mailbox. I love the images of wild gardens that I could never grow.

While in New york, we visited Owl Pen books. I found a treasure, a collection of Emily Dickinson’s nature poems. I used the form of one of these poems and wrote my own version. This poem and the book are headed to my next poetry swap friend.

The Garden
After Emily Dickinson

I’ll tell you how the Hollyhocks rose–
A Blossom at a time–
The Petals glistened like Rubies–
The Bees and Hummers buzzed–
The Trees unfurled their branches–
The Bulbul–beloved–
Then I said softly to myself–
“That must have been the Dew!”
But how he wept–I saw not–
There seemed a dampness sincere
That little ants did clamor here
And led me to the waiting pew,
Woven easily among Lilies–
Morning Glories in blue–
And then I saw– You.

Poets and Readers: Use the Link Button below.

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A Fairy Tale of Friends

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, tagged Bedlam Farm, fairy tale poem, Martha Starke, poetry, writing retreat on July 22, 2016| 20 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is at Books 4 Learning

I dedicate this post, a prose fairy tale poem in three parts, to my writing friends Tara Smith, Kimberley Moran, and Julianne Harmatz. We spent the week together in upstate New York laughing, eating, drinking, touring, shopping, and oh yes…writing. These verses were inspired by Petal People notecards by Martha Starke.

I. Julianne

Once there was a girl from Los Angeles
with a head of curly hair.
She walked the hills of New York state
gathering wild flowers–

verbena, hosta, bleeding heart,
Johnny-jump-ups, bridal wreath–

placing them all in a clear glass jar.

The flowers captured sunshine,
the wild air of summer.

She looked at the flowers in the center of the breakfast table,
and smiled a sneaky smile.
She found the key to happiness–
Gather wildflowers in a glass jar.
You will have sunshine every day.

II. Kimberley

There once was a girl from Maine
who walked the hills of New York state,
looking for something, though she knew not what.

She picked up a wreath of wild flowers
arranged in the shape of a heart.

This heart of hydrangea petals
surrounded by Queen Anne’s lace
touched her very own broken heart.

She hung the wreath on her own front door
to show the world and herself
that this was enough.

III. Tara

Once a girl from New Jersey
walked all the way to New York
searching for wisdom,
(perhaps words on a bumper sticker),
a message for the secret of life.

On a bedlam farm,
dirty from long disuse,
she met a man selling seeds.

He told her to plant this tiny seed,
(so small she could hardly see),
water it every day, speak in a soft voice.
The seed will grow into the finest of flowers
more beautiful than hollyhocks.

One day when the sun rose
& the fog lifted,
she saw the flower,
finer than anything imagined,
and she said, “It is good!”

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Summer Poem Swap

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, tagged Doraine Bennett, Summer Poetry Swap on June 24, 2016| 12 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Diane at Random Noodling.

summer poetry swap (2)

Receiving a gift is exciting, and Tabatha Yeatts knows this. Each summer she organizes a poetry swap. She sends each participant a list of names and addresses, dates, and prompts. Then the fun begins.

This week I received a gift from Doraine Bennett of Dori Reads. Her poem gift was an original recipe for summer break. In the poem-recipe, she mentions blowing bubbles, a good book, and a cup of tea, so her gift included these goodies: a selection of teas, a bubble blowing kit, and an old book, The Poet’s Homecoming by George MacDonald. She collects MacDonald’s books. “George MacDonald is one of my favorite authors. He has a remarkable ability to impart the love of God through fiction. I’ve collected all of his books over the years and given many away.” The original publication date is 1887. What a thoughtful gift!

Recipe for Summer Break

Take one blue sky.
Place yourself gently
underneath the grand expanse.
Allow the azure to settle like goose down.
Watch it shift from moonstone to sapphire
and soften to a light cornflower haze.
Add a good book. One by an author
who knows what he knows and kneads
his wisdom with gentle, but sure hands.
Simmer with the scent of water,
pink orchids, and wisteria.
Sprinkle with long walks, quiet
conversations, and bird song.
Reserve some time to listen
to the one who knows you best.
Blow bubbles.
Find a puddle,
splash until done.
Heap with grace.
Enjoy with a strong cup of tea.

–Doraine Bennett, all rights reserved.

Summer Poetry Swap gift from Dori.

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Slice of Life: Are you Bored Yet?

Posted in Photography, Poetry, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged blueberry picking, summer on May 31, 2016| 16 Comments »

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I just got off the phone with my mother-in-law who asked me if I was bored yet. I laughed. Well, I did clean the grout on the bathroom floor. Does that mean I’m bored?

Actually, my summer list is long and growing. This morning I accomplished one of my goals, blueberry picking. I do this every year the week after school gets out because this is the time when the blueberries ripen. In 2014, I wrote a poem about this ritual that begins with…

Some things wear their becoming,
like this blueberry, for example,
plump and perfectly indigo
surrounded by pinky-red brothers and sisters,
it boasts to be chosen
falls easily into my palm
joyfully plinks the plastic bucket.

See the rest of the poem here.

My friend Suzanne came along. She couldn’t believe she had never done this before. It was fun to share the joy of fresh blueberries with her. Here is the Facebook page for Bayou Blues Blueberry Farm.