Dropping a smoothie sent me over the edge. I was trying too hard to hold it all, and the weight shifted. Everything fell out of arms and undid me. Return to Presence, my Enneathought of the Day says, but a return to presence meant I needed to start over.
Give me a task, a group of fourth graders to watch over. I can count to ten, but I can’t climb down from the bleachers. I can sit on the floor with them to eat lunch, but I can’t get back up. Know thyself. Be true to who you are.
A body that is running on fumes of a school year. A plate that is toppling, balanced on a single finger.
Among the smiles of graduates on Facebook, I found a poem, a gift of Mary Oliver whose wisdom buoys me, “How two hands touch and the bonds will never be broken. How people come, from delight or the scars of damage, to the comfort of a poem.” Comfort me, oh poem. Be with me, in me, over me. Help me walk back into school today another day in May.
Margaret Simon, flash draft because I’ve been too busy to spend any time on crafting a poem.
May as a teacher is the hardest month of the year. Emotions are heightened. We are trying to squeeze in field trips, fun day/water day, ceremonies, awards, grades, and all the other seemingly endless paper work. It’s overwhelming. I didn’t have a poem ready for today, so I just did what I do best, open the blank blog post and write straight from my gut. This stress will be over soon, and I will settle into the relaxing days of summer. But today, there is much to do and little time to get it done. I’m sure you know what I mean. All my best to all the teachers out there just trying to make it to the end still smiling, still loving their job, and still being their best selves.
Waterfall exhibit at the Hilliard Museum in Lafayette, LA.
Last year on Mother’s Day, we gathered for my father’s funeral, all together, happy to have each other to hold. I am a mother who is blessed to have two living mothers, my own and my mother-in-law, who said years ago when someone called me her daughter, “I’ll claim her.”
A long line of belonging begins with mothers to me to my three daughters to their children. We are miracles dancing beside each other.
My brother texted me a video this week of my mother with her assisted living friends in a circle singing “Amazing Grace.” I responded, “When I am old, I want to sing hymns.”
My mother-in-law (affectionately called “Minga”) recites the 23rd Psalm in French every night before she sleeps.
Every night, my daughter reads Madeline to her daughter, “In an old house in Paris that was covered with vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines.”
There is a song inside of me that I wrote after Joni Mitchell for my granddaughter June. She doesn’t know it yet, but I hope she will one day.
Little June
after Joni Mitchell’s “Little Green”
Born with the moon in solstice. Choose her a name she will want to say. Call her June so December cannot freeze her. Call her June for the rosy warmth of her skin. Little June, be a strong butterfly.
Just a little June like the brightness of a summer’s day. There’ll be dandelions to pick for Mom tomorrow. Just a little June like when sprinklers make the water spray. There’ll be bicycles and birthday bows And cousins you will follow.
Margaret Simon
Baby June with my daughter, Martha in a field of bluebonnets.
Today Poetry Friday is hosted by Linda Baie at Teacher Dance.
Happy May! May is a time for flowers. Let me interrupt this poetry post with a gallery of flowers.
Purple salvia in the butterfly garden, red canna returned from winter, and begonias at Walmart on May Day
On May Day I stopped at Walmart just to see what they had in the Garden Center. I was wowed by coral pink and yellow begonias, a whole display of them that seemed to be punished. I had to climb over the back of the display to get to them while a worker totally ignored me because she had to put together a grill. How did she not notice the beauty that was right in her way? I only rescued five of them, but I wanted all 50! I gave away each one to people in my life who have been shoulders for the weight I carry.
Last week my student and I planted a butterfly garden in a vegetable garden box abandoned by the 4-H Club. Lowe’s gave her $200 to shop with. The purple salvia is singing to the butterflies. We haven’t seen any yet, but we are keeping the soil moist so that all our plants can thrive and invite them.
This first Friday of May, Linda Mitchell invited the Inklings to write:
Write a poem from your O-L-W for 2023 Or Find a piece of artwork that has a word(s) embedded and write an ekphrastic poem inspired by the piece Or Go to Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day (any similar site) and be inspired by a word from there Or Just write a poem–about anything that needs to be written.
Linda Mitchell, a generous open prompt for the crazy month of May
An author-friend suggested I subscribe to Kelly Bennett’s newsletter, Fishbowl, in which she prompts a 7 minute writing each week. I responded to her prompt using a May Sarton poem “Bliss” as a model poem. I borrowed a few words and was on my way. The photo is a word card that Linda M sent me for National Poetry Month, so I basically hit all points of the challenge.
The Kidlit Progressive poem for 2023 is archived here. I decided to archive the poems together, so scroll down to find 2023. Thanks to all who participated. What a fun adventure into the forest!
This has been an April full of poetry. In between the dreaded test prep, I have offered my students poetry breaks. I pulled out all of my poetry books and let them dig in. We also wrote some poetry. My students, when they hear the word poetry, breathe a sigh of relief and joy. I am lucky they are young and haven’t been stained by the bee that says poetry is hard.
We’ve watched a few of Allan Wolf’s Poetry Month videos. They are all on YouTube. It’s like having him visit my classroom with all his humor, antics, and natural Po-Love. My students loved watching him juggle while teaching them about dactyl meter. Sadie, 4th grade, is writing her own poems using dactyl meter.
My emotional bees
Make me want to have pet fleas!
My emotional bees
They just never seem to ease!
Sadie, 4th grade
My third grade student, Avalyn was drawn in by Marilyn Singer’s reverso poems in Mirror, Mirror and Follow, Follow. I sent Marilyn a message on Instagram, and she sent us a “Tips for Writing Reverso Poems.” Avalyn borrowed a few lines and created a poem of her own. We discovered reversos are really hard to write well.
Very pleasant, happily ever after. Luggage is packed. You sob. Nobody is there.
Nobody is there, you sob. Luggage is packed. Happily ever after, very pleasant.
Avalyn, 3rd grade
Each week I present This Photo Wants to be a Poem on my blog and with my students on Fanschool. You can see their Prime Number Haikus this week at this link by clicking on the comment button at the bottom of the page.
Prime Number Haiku
Bubble Blossoming Grows great and strong but Will not stay for very long You try to win but you will pop very soon
Adelyn, 4th grade
April has been a wonderful month of poetry. Thanks to all of our Poetry Friday friends who have contributed to the Kidlit Progressive Poem which is still traveling, almost done. Today it’s at Karin Fisher-Golton.
I am keeping all of my daily poems in a slide show. Here’s my own Prime Number Haiku which was a prompt from Ethical ELA.
I was introduced to Jessica Whipple by my friend Irene Latham. What a delight to read her new picture book “Enough is” illustrated by Nicole Wong. Enough was my One Little Word for 2022. When I need to remind myself that I am enough and I have enough, I wear the bracelet that bears the word. Jessica took this idea and stretched it into love in a picture book. “Somewhere between a little and a lot, there is Enough.”
The child character is learning about enough. “Enough isn’t a number,” so she wonders, what is enough? She comes to the profound conclusion that when you have enough, it’s easy to share.
I asked Jessica to answer some questions about her author’s journey to publication. Her book Enough Is published this week.
How would you describe your journey as a writer?
My journey as a writer began as an experiment! I’m a “try it and see what happens” kind of person. In short, I had an idea (out of which came my first book, ENOUGH IS…), and then the question “I wonder if I can write a picture book?” And soon after, “What does it take to publish a picture book?” I was a young-ish mom, so picture books were starting to fill my consciousness! And I have a degree in communications, and so writing has been part of my make-up for some time. Four, maybe five years later, here I am and I never expected to answer my first two questions in such a delightfully surprising and satisfying way.
How does writing poetry help when writing a picture book? How are they different?
There are similarities in form between a free verse poem and a picture book, and of course a rhyming PB and a rhyming poem. There tend to be short lines in both forms, economical language, a set “flow,” lyricism, introspection, toying with reader expectations…I could go on! In fact, I am working on a virtual or in-person presentation for poetry-loving highschoolers about this topic. Shameless plug: I would love to speak to your student literary magazine or English class!
Is Enough a concept you feel young children have a hard time with? What is your experience with this concept?
Very much, yes! And my own experience is that I have a hard time with it as an adult, even! As a child, I remember the sadness that came after, say, a back-to-school shopping trip and how conflicted I was with the realization it was all just “stuff,” yet somehow I wanted more of it. And now, without limits, I’ll simply keep eating chocolate chips out of the bag if I don’t remind myself that I wrote a book about this very thing! “Enough” is hard because it’s uncomfortable. We want…things, friends, happiness, you name it…so the more we help each other learn contentment, the easier it is to feel comfortable with having enough.
What part of the publishing journey is your favorite? Your least favorite?
Oh man I love querying! And now that I have an agent, Emily Keyes of Keyes Agency, I don’t get to do that anymore! I love the process of doing the same thing over and over again trying for a good result. But I suppose I can keep doing that as I work to promote my books… In terms of my least favorite part of the publishing journey, definitely the waiting!
Do you have any writing rituals that others may find helpful in their own writing?
I wouldn’t say this is a ritual, more of a mindset, perhaps: It doesn’t hurt to ask! For anything! As long as you are respectful, polite, and grateful, by all means, ASK. THE. QUESTION! Maybe it’s, “Is my manuscript still being considered?” Great one! As long as you’ve minded submission guidelines, send a brief email and ASK! Or are you seeking a blurb from an author you love? Say why you admire that author and ASK! I can’t tell you the many times putting myself out there and advocating for myself–not aggressively, but confidently–has led to positive results.
Welcome Jessica to Poetry Friday with your comments. Don’t forget to follow the Kidlit Progressive Poem to Sarah Grace Tuttle’s site today.
And because it’s National Poetry Month and I am writing a poem each day, I have a Zeno about the word Enough. J. Patrick Lewis invented the form using a mathematical pattern of 8,4,2,1,4,2,1,4,2,1 in which the one syllables rhyme. I’ve been watching ruby-throated hummingbirds fighting over the feeder.
Enough
When I am down, worried about having enough, God sends me hummingbirds flit- flapping free, messengers of “Enough, See!”
Today’s Poetry Friday Round up is with Jone, a gentle creative who always holds others up on her strong shoulders. Today she is gathering classic found poems. I forgot to do one. I have a good excuse. I’m presenting today at the Fay B. Kaigler Book Festival in Hattiesburg, MS with my friend and fellow children’s book author Leslie Helakoski. But I don’t like missing out, so I may try to get to it sometime this weekend. At Mary Lee’s post, I found a link to a poem video done by Jone’s student, Kimberly Taylor. It’s an amazingly powerful interpretation of Mary Lee’s poem Dandelions.
Leslie wrote a book entitled “Are Your Stars Like My Stars?” It’s a beautiful book about diversity in perspective using a patterned phrase i.e.”Is your blue like my blue?” I read the book to my students and had them write their own poem based on the pattern. Using blank books, they turned their poems into books. I’ll be sharing these with our session participants today. I wanted to feature Adelyn’s poem today. When she wrote it, it brought tears to my eyes because at such a young age of 10, she sees with more wisdom than many adults. And this gives me hope. Poetry gives me hope. Children’s book authors give me hope. You give me hope.
Do You Like What I Like?
Staring at the stars in cozy blankets, porch bound. Are your stars like mine? A fluff in my arms, a fuzz in my head. Do you sleep like me?
Hugging them tight, don’t want to let go. Do you love like I do?
When you’re sitting down, about to eat your food, whether it’s makizushi, chimichurri or gumbo. Think, do I do what you do?
I have trouble counting by eights but love doing equations. Do you do math like I do?
I read some advanced books and read lots of chapter books. Do you read like I do?
Sometimes when I get yelled at or I try to tell someone something and they don’t listen, I get overwhelmed and sometimes cry. Are your feelings like my feelings?
I have dirty blonde hair and blue eyes and freckles. Are your features like my features?
I like the winter but summer not that much. Do you like seasons like I do?
When you lay down in bed, getting ready to sleep, do you ever think of these things like I do?
Do you ever think about how different other people could be and think about how different you are from others?
We are all different and that’s okay. As long as you are, YOURSELF
Today I am juggling many hats. First, I am hosting the blog roundup for Poetry Friday. If you participate, the link up will be at the end of this post. 2. I have the next line for the annual Kidlit Progressive Poem (gentle hand-off from Donna who is wearing many hats of her own lately). 3. It’s the first Friday of the month which means a challenge from an Inkling (our writing group’s cute nickname).
The Kidlit Progressive Poem is the dream-child of Irene Latham. I am carrying the torch these days which means I round up all the volunteer writers and send them a reminder if they forget. Not a terrible job, really. So far, it all seems to come together in an amazing poem by the end of the month. You can follow the progression by clicking on the links on the side bar. Six days of April means six lines. I feel like I’m cheating because the line came to me immediately. Repetition is good in a poem and so are similes. Here is the poem with my line added in italics.
Suddenly everything fell into place like raindrops hitting soil and sinking in.
When morning first poked me, I’d wished it away my mind in the mist, muddled, confused.
Was this a dream, or reality, rousing my response? The sun surged, urging me to join in its rising,
Rising like a crystal ball reflecting on morning dew.
The Inkling challenge this month comes from Mary Lee Hahn. She decided to choose random words as a prompt for a poem. The words were knuckle, denial, turn, cautious.
Molly Hogan, fellow Inkling, and I are using a calendar grid for National Poetry Month. Here’s a copy of our calendar which you are welcome to use if you need ideas. I chose to write a Fib poem, a form that uses the Fibonacci Series for syllable counts: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8. (I just realized I didn’t repeat the one syllable line. Fudge it. Too late to revise now.)
The Kidlit Progressive Poem is with Heidi Mordhorst today. Watch as the magic unfolds with each line. Yesterday Mary Lee landed us solid on the end of a story and Heidi has added a bit of rain. Tomorrow Tabatha will take us a step further. but not too far because we have many miles to go before we sleep.
Molly Hogan and I are working through our self-created challenge to write a poem each day. We thought a calendar without dates, more like a Bingo card, would give our writing some kind of structure with freedom. I am a morning blogger. Last night I went to a Cajun Fais Do Do put on by The Books Along the Teche Literary Festival. I danced, and danced, and danced. Feet tired and head spinning, there was no way I could have produced a post, let alone a poem last night. So I left it alone, this space blank until this morning.
Lately I’ve been listening again to Joni Mitchell. Her songs defined my college days (my husband and I saw her in an intimate concert more than 40 years ago) and when I listen now, I hear the pure poetry and smooth soprano of her voice. I am skipping down the grid a few “weeks” and writing from a song.
The lyrics for A Case of You led me to write about my 91 year-old mother-in-law. She’s an incredible woman whom I admire beyond the stars.
In the Light
for Anne Lennan Simon
I’m a lonely writer. I live on a clean white page. I’m frightened by my own grief. And I’m drawn to those who age.
I remember when you told me, you said, “You are a deep griever.” Surely you know grief like mine ‘Cause a part of you is a part of me in these words I try to find.
You’re in my soul like dandelions. You’re my longed for wish. You’re so pretty and so wise, beauty and wisdom are yours. I want to be like you, and Still be in the light. And still be in the light.
Margaret Simon, after Joni Mitchell “A Case of You”
Anne Simon with artist-poet Melissa Bonin at a recent party for LEH (Louisiana Endowment for the Humanities). Her son, my husband Jeff is in the background.
A collaborative calendar for NPM with Molly Hogan.
Happy National Poetry Month! I’m excited (and a little anxious) to start a new blog journey today. Last month I wrote a post every day in March for the annual Two Writing Teachers Slice of Life Challenge. You’d think after 31 straight days, I’d be ready to stop. But the practice of writing gets better and in many ways easier the more you do it. I am joining a community of teachers, poets, and bloggers who commit to National Poetry Month.
For starters, take a look at the first line of this year’s Kidlit Progressive Poem with Mary Lee today. She is setting us off on a long road to an amazing collaborative feat, 30 days, 30 poets, 30 lines.
Suleika Jaouad has an email newsletter, The Isolation Journals, in which she prompted “The Open Palm.”
Your prompt for the week:
Close your eyes, and slowly trace the outline of your non-dominant hand on a blank page. Take your time. Pay attention to the physical sensations. The sound of pen on page. The feel of paper against palm, pen between fingers. Surrender any illusions of control. Any attempt at getting it “right” or “perfect.”
Write a creative intention inside your palm. Around it, begin writing things that will invite you back to your practice—encouraging words, activities that inspire you, different ways of approaching your intention, small steps to get you closer to your goal.
Outside the hand: Allow yourself to daydream about what lies ahead. Write about where your intention could bring you. What it could help you discover. Record any new revelations and realizations, dreams or ideas that you want to carry forward.
Reflect on what happened in your mind and in your body at each step of the process, and how that awareness can guide your creative path.
Suleika Jaouad
My Open Palm by Margaret Simon
This open palm feels like my opening up to this new month of writing daily, the practice of being open to what flows, without judgement, discovering the creativity that already lives in me. Thanks for being here. This haibun is from a prompt at VerseLove at Ethical ELA. I decided to abandon grammar rules and Flow.
Write, Just Write
Write fast she says without judgement keep the pen moving across the page you can do this with one hand tied behind your back standing on one leg let the flamingo in you blush with delight until the timer stops ticking then rest breathe in the feeling of success of soulsearching of secrets revealed in your own abandon you are in charge here Be Be Be who you want to be embrace her for she is yours forever.
Find a soft place to land your soft body sing yourself home.
Whew! We made it to the last day of March. I wrote on this blog space for 31 straight days. I’m feeling a little bit proud that I made this commitment and accomplished it for the 10th year. If you read any of my posts, thank you. My readers and responders keep me going, keep me writing.
National Poetry Month begins tomorrow (no April Fools). The Progressive Poem calendar is full and lives in the side bar. Mary Lee will start us off tomorrow with the first line. She is also hosting today, so pop over and bookmark her site, A(nother) Year of Reading.
Molly Hogan and I have collaborated on a calendar-chart of choices for our National Poetry Month writing. We intentionally did not include dates so we can see how the spirit moves and have some choice about the poems we write. If you wish to play along, we made a Canva calendar (not calendar).
The Poetry Sisters challenge this month was an etheree poem. An etheree is a poetry form that begins with one syllable in the first line and continues growing each line by a syllable until the tenth line has ten syllables. I looked back into my notebook to find this found etheree from an Ash Wednesday sermon from my priest, Annie Etheredge. (I just noticed how close her last name is to etheree.) Her sermon began with a poetic description of a blue bird nesting.
Nesting Box
soul nesting we could watch mama bluebird being a bluebird collecting tiny twigs flashing her royal colors you see a fragile little frame she pushed an egg out of her body with a great flourish of her azure wings
Margaret Simon, found poem from Annie Etheredge’s Ash Wednesday sermon
If you have special plans for National Poetry Month, let me know. I’d love to follow along.
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 