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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Marcie Flinchum Atkins, who has a new book coming out on Tuesday, When Twilight Comes.

For the last Friday of the month, the Poetry Sisters offer a challenge. I wanted to give it a try. The form is Ovillejo, a Spanish form described here.

In Pádraig Ó Tuama’s Substack this week, he posted a poem from Rainer Maria Rilke that began with the line “God speaks to each of us as he makes us.” I love this idea of God, intimate and personal. To get started on the Ovillejo, I borrowed this line. As I worked with the syllable count and rhyme, it changed somewhat.

Belonging

After Rainer Maria Rilke

God speaks fondly to each of us, 
makes each of us.

Birds respond to God’s call with song—
You belong.

Set the paddle deep into water,
my daughter.

Stop messing with what doesn’t matter.
Sit with God and speak in silence.
God knows your peculiar cadence.

Like each of us, you belong, my daughter.

Margaret Simon, draft

Twilight on Lake Lanier, Georgia

Our host, Marcie, asked us to post a favorite picture and poem of twilight to celebrate her new book. When I searched my blog history for a twilight poem, I found last year’s Kidlit Progressive Poem.

April Runs Over

Open an April window
let sunlight paint the air
stippling every dogwood
dappling daffodils with flair

Race to the garden
where woodpeckers drum
as hummingbirds thrum
in the blossoming Sweetgum

Sing as you set up the easels
dabble in the paints
echo the colors of lilac and phlox
commune without constraints

Breathe deeply the gifts of lilacs
rejoice in earth’s sweet offerings
feel renewed-give thanks at day’s end
remember long-ago springs

Bask in a royal spring meadow
romp like a golden-doodle pup!
startle the sleeping grasshoppers
delight in each flowering shrub…

Drinking in orange-blossom twilight
relax to the rhythm of stars dotting sky
as a passing Whip-poor-will gulps bugs
We follow a moonlit path that calls us

Grab your dripping brushes!
Our celestial canvas awaits
There we swirl, red, white, and blue
Behold what magic our montage creates!

Such marvelous palettes the earth bestows
When rain greens our hopes, watch them grow, watch them grow!

By the Poetry Friday community

Don’t forget to sign up for this year’s progressive poem. There are only a few days left.

In book news, today is my book launch party!

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Poetry Friday Roundup is with Tanita today at her blog—fiction instead of lies.

Yesterday I walked into The Pie Bar carrying my new baby, What’s That Sound? Birds of the Bayou. I was hoping to meet with the owner to ask him to place it in the gift shop. When I came in, there was Tammy from church having a glass of wine on the leather sofa.

Tammy said, “I want to get your book for my new grandbaby.” So the book I had in my hand went to her new baby, Joy.

“To Joy—Listen close!” I drew a little bird emoji, and handed my new baby to Tammy.

I went back out to my car. (Have books, will travel). This time I grabbed two just in case.

I was meeting my friend and fellow picture book writer Mary Beth for a critique session. Mary Beth doesn’t have grandchildren yet, but she works with young kids as an OT.

“Of course I want one,” said Mary Beth. “We have to support each other, and besides, it’s precious.”

I also caught the owner, and he said he would stock it in the gift shop. “I always want to support local authors.”

This baby has taken a while to come to life. Now that he’s here, I am pleased to pass him around for others to enjoy.

Signing books at our local independent bookstore, Books Along the Teche.

If you are interested in participating in the Kidlit Progressive Poem in April, please pop over to this post and comment. April is coming soon.

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Linda Baie at Teacher Dance.

Inspiration for writing a poem can come from anywhere. I have learned to pay attention to the signs and thank the universe when words become poems. This week I read Eleanor Wilner’s poem “Of a Sun She can Remember”. This poem is a renga poem in which she took the last line of another poem to become her title.

I used the last line of Wilner’s poem, along with other ideas, lines, words from my daily reading to create a poem.

The Golden Net of Meaning in the Light
after Eleanor Wilner

When a missile misses its mark,
children die.
When channels are closed,
prices rise.
Choose your trouble.
Turn your blinded eyes toward the sun.
Pace the meadow filled with butterweed.
Give your heart-swift
to the clouds hovering.
We are all connected
as the golden cross-hatched web
tethered between rose bushes.
What I need to say
After the rain,
birds sing
a glorious chorus.

Margaret Simon, drafted

Pádraig Ó Tuama

If you would like to participate in the Kidlit Progressive Poem in April, please go to this link to sign up.

Butterweed on the Bayou

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April is National Poetry Month. Each year the #kidlit poetry community writes a progressive poem. The idea originated from Irene Latham. Each day the poem travels to a different blog, and the poet adds a new line to the poem. Past poems can be seen here.

If you’d like to participate in this year’s progressive poem, please comment on this post with your date choice and blog URL link. Come back to this post to copy and paste the schedule into your blog post. Feel free to email me if you have any questions.

April 1 Tabatha Yeatts at The Opposite of Indifference
April 2 Cathy Stenquist at A Little Bit of This and That
April 3 Patricia Franz at Reverie
April 4 Donna Smith at Mainely Write
April 5 Janice Scully at Salt City Verse
April 6 Denise Krebs at Dare to Care
April 7 Ruth Hersey at There is no such thing as a God-forsaken town
April 8 Rose Cappelli at Imagine the Possibilities
April 9 Margaret Simon at Reflections on the Teche
April 10 Janet Clare Fagel at Reflections on the Teche
April 11 Diane Davis at Starting Again in Poetry
April 12 Linda Baie at Teacher Dance
April 13 Linda Mitchell at Another Word Edgewise
April 14 Jone MacCulloch at Poetry Rocks
April 15 Joyce Uglow at Storied Ink
April 16 Carol Varsalona at Beyond Literacy Link
April 17 Robyn Hood Black at Life on the Deckle Edge
April 18 Michele Kogan at More Art for All
April 19 Kim Johnson at Common Threads
April 20 Buffy Silverman
April 21 Irene Latham at Live Your Poem
April 22 Karen Edmisten
April 23 Heidi Mordhorst at my juicy little universe
April 24 Mary Lee Hahn at A(nother) Year of Reading
April 25 Tanita Davis at Fiction, instead of Lies
April 26 Sharon Roy at Pedaling Poet
April 27 Tracey Kiff-Judson at Tangles and Tails
April 28
April 29
April 30

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
Poetry Friday is hosted today by Karen Edmisten.

I did not do my own assignment. I kept putting it off with excuse after excuse. This month I posed what I thought would be a simple, easy challenge for my Inklings writing group, “Write a poem using the word becoming.”

I searched my notebook, my Google Docs, and no miracle there. I simply had not written to my own prompt. Last night I decided to take inspiration from fellow Inkling Linda Mitchell and write a haiku sonnet. (She had shared hers at our meeting last weekend.) Form does not always become a poem.

Is it cheating to use a repeating line? After playing with the title “Becoming Spring”, I wrote the title “Becoming Beautiful”. Almost daily, my youngest daughter sends new photos of my newest grandson. Yesterday she sent this one with the text, “Someone had a cute spurt today.” We all marvel at how this baby just gets more and more adorable.

“Cute spurt”

Nevertheless, here is my down-to-the-wire draft of a haiku sonnet for this cutie.

Becoming Beautiful

You are born with it
in the deep blue of the sea
you glisten like gems

You are born with it
eventually you smile
at your mother’s stare

You are born with it
shine like the full blood moon
a friend to the sun

You are born with it
because that is who you are
someone’s true love

No need to apologize
Be beautiful as you are

Margaret Simon, for Sam, draft

Check out the brilliant ways Inklings responded to this prompt:

Mary Lee @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Catherine @ Reading to the Core

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Poetry Friday is here today! Please scroll to inLinkz to post your link.

In addition to Poetry Friday, one of my favorite places to hang out is Ethical ELA during the monthly Open Write. This month we were hosted by Stacey Joy and Seana Hurd Wright.

I am sharing three poems I wrote in response to their prompts.

I Believe in Morning

reflections
bayou glows
heron hunts

chickadee
dee-dee-dees
feeder swings

doodle curls
on my lap
All is well

“Let us open and open without knowing how” Billy Merrell from “Moth” ( found in Dictionary for a Better World)

Like the butterfly in spring, Let
your heart know the us
of the universe: We open
the screen door and
swallowtail flies to the open
skies without
anyone holding on or even knowing
where it was going, just how. 

This week giant swallowtail butterflies hatched from their over winter chrysalises.

St. James Tricube

In this place
veil lifted 
parting kiss

In this place 
holy water 
baby blessed

In this place 
ashes laid 
eternal rest

My home church, St. James Episcopal Church

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!Click here to enter

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Poetry Friday is hosting today by Susan at Chicken Spaghetti.

Susan Thomsen posted a prompt from David Lehman to use the last line of Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself as a first line to a new poem. I have my grandchildren spending the night, and we read a silly scary story called The Dark Night. I went back to a New Year’s prompt from Pádraig Ó Tuama for a pantoum about the night.

The Dark Night
I stop somewhere waiting for you.
Footsteps clonking on wooden stairs—
Womblike whoosh of your sound machine,
Your shadow shape shifts in the low light.

Footsteps tender on wooden stairs.
Owl “who-cooks-for-you” wakes;
its shadow shape shifts in this low light.
Time stands still.

Owl hoots who-cooks-for-you
as I breathe your scent before you’re here.
Time stands still.
Will my love be good enough?

I breathe your sleeping scent.
Womblike whooshes from your sound machine.
Will my loving arms be enough?
I stop somewhere waiting for you.

(Free stock image)

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Robyn Hood Black at Life on the Deckle Edge.

I received an advance copy of a new poetry book from Eerdmans Books for Young Readers. Have you ever read a book that just feels good in your hands?

Poems for Every Season: A Year of Haiku, Sonnets, and More by Bette Westera offers a number of different poetry forms translated by David Colmer. Each page is a comforting woodcut design by Henriette Boerendans.

Poems For Every Season, publishing date Feb. 17, 2026
Woodcut art by Henriette Boerendans

Each poem is a delight of language, form, imagery, and the miracles of nature.

The final poem is a sonnet for February. Just when you think it’s warm enough to go outside and sow some seeds, winter makes another appearance.

Prompted by Susan Brisson in Laura Shovan’s February Challenge to write a Cento poem, I turned each page of this book to find a poem.

Roaming the Seasons

Pale petals drift down
Green buds will soon be showing on trees.
Velvety bees
Carving a nest
Buzz by
Among the yellow buttercups
Clear
I need sun
Under a blanket of leaves
Gathering growing sheltering
All curled up in my cozy bed.
We like it here and we stay.

Cento by Margaret Simon from Poems For Every Season by Bette Westera, translated by David Colmer.

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Poetry Friday is hosted by Molly Hogan at Nix the Comfort Zone.

Today is the first Friday of the month which is time for our Inklings challenge. This month Molly, our PF host today, asked us to follow a prompt to replace word for word of a Wendell Barry small poem. “Like Snow”

In South Louisiana, we don’t get much snow, but winter is a time for fog. One morning I watched the fog floating above the bayou and wrote my poem response.

Like Fog

What if I became a mist

Like the fog, softly, softly

Lifting the day. 

Fog on Bayou Teche

To read how other Inklings met this challenge, click below:

Mary Lee @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Molly @ Nix the Comfort Zone
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Catherine @ Reading to the Core

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Amy at The Poem Farm.

This month the Poetry Sisters challenge was to write a tricube. The tricube form is 3 syllables, 3 lines, 3 stanzas.

Molly Hogan sent me the list of prompts from the MoSt Poetry Center. The prompt I used was this:

“Write a poem of presence, in terms of being in a particular place and time, or of having a dynamic demeanor (such as in “stage presence”) or a feeling of an unseen spirit. Here’s an example by Arthur Sze, our new U. S. Poet Laureate:

Here by Arthur Sze – Poems | Academy of American Poets

I borrowed the line, “Be here now.”

Every year as I begin to set intentions, I get the universal message of presence. I feel presence is essential to peace of mind, but it is difficult to find.

I have a new kayak. Taking the kayak out took some initiative and help from my husband hero. Jeff had the grandkids in the canoe. When I wanted to try to get the kayak out of the water by myself, my grandson Leo said, “Prove it.” That was all the challenge I needed to pull the 60 pound vessel onto the dock. I did it.

First kayak adventure in “Chrysalis.”

Here
after Arthur Sze

Be here now
Here frog croaks
Here wren calls

Be here now
Here stalk grows
Here tea steams

Be here now
Here oar strokes
Here strength comes

Margaret Simon

I want to thank Tabatha Yeatts who offered on Poetry Friday last week to do an art piece for our 2026 words. I took her up on the offer. I’m touched and amazed at how this speaks to my intention for the year as well as the tricube I wrote.

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