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Poetry Friday: The Witch has Told You a Story

Posted in Poetry Friday, tagged Ava Leavell Haymon, fairy tale poem, Jane Yolen, Snow White on September 16, 2016| 17 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Michelle at Today’s Little Ditty

Last week, Michelle welcomed Laura Shovan to her blog with a workshop idea around Fractured Fairy Tales.

I have ordered the two books she suggested, Sleeping Ugly by Jane Yolen and Mirror, Mirror by Marilyn Singer.

Ava reading at A&E Gallery, November, 2013

In the meantime, I was reminded of a book of poetry I have by Ava Leavell Haymon, former poet laureate of Louisiana, Why the House is Made of Gingerbread. This book is really for adult readers, but a few years ago Lemony Snicket published a collection of poems for adults that children would like, available here on the Poetry Foundation. He selected Ava’s The Witch has Told You a Story for this collection.

You are food.
You are here for me
to eat. Fatten up,
and I will like you better.

Your brother will be first,
you must wait your turn.
Feed him yourself, you will
learn to do it. You will take him

eggs with yellow sauce, muffins
torn apart and leaking butter, fried meats
late in the morning, and always sweets
in a sticky parade from the kitchen.

His vigilance, an ice pick of hunger
pricking his insides, will melt
in the unctuous cream fillings.
He will forget. He will thank you

for it. His little finger stuck every day
through cracks in the bars
will grow sleek and round,
his hollow face swell

like the moon. He will stop dreaming
about fear in the woods without food.
He will lean toward the maw
of the oven as it opens

every afternoon, sighing
better and better smells.
—Ava Leavell Haymon

My lesson plan around fractured fairy tale poems will include this poem about Hansel and Gretel.

Jane Yolen challenges us this month to write a septercet, a form she invented. Each line of the 3 lined stanza has 7 syllables. I will ask my students to write a septercet about a favorite fairy tale, fractured or not. So I’m giving it a try myself.

Fairy White

When she wanders in the woods,
soft white reflecting diamonds,
her fair skin glows like snowflakes.

Apple laced in evil spells
tastes of beauty golden red
slips her slowly into sleep.

Finally she rests from all
her troubles. Let her be free.
Love will find a peaceful soul.

–Margaret Simon

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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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August

Posted in Photography, Poetry Friday, tagged August, hummingbird poem on September 2, 2016| 32 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Penny. Yee Haw!

I am glad that August is over. It was a rough month down here in South Louisiana, but the hummingbirds have come. There is hope for fall, even though there is a hurricane in the Gulf and temperatures hit 95 degrees today.

Photo and poem by 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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Ekphrastic Voice

Posted in Creativity, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged Dennis Paul Williams, ekphrasis, poetry activity, Sandra Sarr on August 19, 2016| 25 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Dori at Dori Reads

With the threat of flooding gone and a need to connect with others, I attended a writing workshop led by my friend Sandra Sarr.

Sandy moved to Louisiana two years ago and quickly embedded herself in the arts community. From her travels here to research her novel, she met interesting people like Dennis Paul Williams. She once took me on a visit to his studio. In 2013, University of Louisiana at Lafayette Press published a large coffee table book of Dennis’s artwork. I bought the book, but hate to admit that it just sat on the coffee table.

But Sandy’s ekphrastic exercise brought me closer to the images housed in Soul Exchange. She made color copies and handed them out. This is the one I picked.

Before Sandy instructed us to write, I started writing.

Secrets shared
like a kiss
softly touching
a cheek.
Even while
she’s sleeping,
she hears
the sound
of singing,
a lullaby.

Sun glows
through the window.
She traces the line
of her face
in the mirror
only touching
the outline–
That space
where skin
meets sky.

She’s never lonely
within
covers of lace
because she knows
the secrets,
the ones whispered
on the wings
of a prayer.

Even her hair
glows like
rainbow light.

–Margaret Simon

This was just the free write, but I was happy with it. Then Sandy asked us to circle words from our free write that had some power for us. She handed out notecards for us to write our words on, tear them apart and put them back together into a new poem.

Words taken from my free writing.

This was the resulting poem.

Enter dark space
a line draws her face
whispers
secrets

Her protector
sleeps
in covers of lace.

Angels kiss
her prayer.

Opening
the path to grace.

–Margaret Simon

What I love about this activity is the abstract way it gets to the soul where you write with authenticity and abandon all at the same time. I want to try this with my students. I wonder how they will handle the randomness of it. Will they get frustrated or enjoy the freedom? Some days, and especially hard days full of sadness, I find solace in poetry, in the act of creating. It gets me out of my thinking brain for a minute and allows me to relax into flow. Thanks, Sandy, for sharing Dennis’s art and leading me on a path of discovery.

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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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Tanzania Travel Journal #5

Posted in Poetry Friday, Travel, Writing, tagged Anne Simon, Georgia Heard, Mary Oliver, Overseas Adventure Travel, poetry, Tanzania on July 15, 2016| 12 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Mary Lee at A Year of Reading

I am dedicating this Poetry Friday post to my mother-in-law, Anne Simon, who took me on an amazing adventure to Tanzania, Africa to celebrate her 85th birthday.

I have been blogging about this trip since I’ve returned. You can read previous posts: Safe Water for Eastern Africa, Tarangire National Park, Maasai village, and Lions on the Serengeti.

The only way to thank Anne “Minga” for this fabulous opportunity was to thoroughly enjoy it. I immersed myself in Presence, my one little word, taking in the experience with my whole mind, body, and spirit.

On the day of Minga’s birthday, we set out at sunrise to tour areas on the Serengeti with rocky outcrops called kopjes. Kopjes are places where lions linger and hide their young. We stopped to have breakfast on one of these kopjes. Before any of us got out of the vehicles, though, our guides scouted and clapped away any animal life.

Kopjes (pronounced ko-pee-us) dotted the Serengeti landscape.

Singing “Happy Birthday” to Anne on the kopjes breakfast.

I created a video to capture the birthday celebration complete with a cake and the camp workers singing a favorite celebration song, Hakuna Matata (not the Disney version).

Since today is Poetry Friday, I found an appropriate poem to share. “The Journey” by Mary Oliver describes the individual that my mother-in-law is, strong and independent. I am very grateful that she is willing to share her journey with me.

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.