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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!”

Margaret Simon, all rights reserved,
with incredible respect and love
for the gift of time that is born at a farm in New York

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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.

–Mary Oliver

This poem, along with many other poems from women, can be found in The Woman in this Poem, selected and introduced by Georgia Heard.

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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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What Nature Knows

Posted in Photography, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged mbuntu, nature poem, New Castle Lake on June 17, 2016| 8 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Carol at Carol’s Corner.

Deer in woods near New Castle Lake.

I’m feeling a little guilty sitting on the porch on the lake in Mississippi surrounded by my loving family and a blanket of warmth (highs already reaching upper 90’s). There is so much happening in the world that feels out of control, out of my reach of consciousness. And yet I look at nature and see the connections.

On my drive here to my parents’ house, I listened to podcasts. On the TED radio hour episode titled Becoming Wise, I heard the word mbuntu. In this story, South African Boyd Varty speaks about how animals already know this concept, that I am because we are.

I think we all need more mbuntu in our lives. We need to turn our focus on each other to be fully who we are.

The kayaker doesn’t look up
to see me watching him,
seeing how his body,
his paddle,
the water are one.
Stroke right, stroke left
sends a ripple from the water
to the trees,
where light dances like fine feathers.

Branches spread from bald cypress
to shade the grass,
hide the tree frog,
nest the swallow.
A bird calls
Here-a-here-a-here.
Cicadas buzz
like maracas at a Spanish festival.
The sun rises
to the sound of Samba.

–Margaret Simon

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Poetry with Allan Wolf

Posted in Celebration Saturday, Poetry Friday, tagged Allan Wolf, Iberia Parish Library, poetry performance on June 11, 2016| 16 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Carol at Beyond LiteracyLink.

Allan Wolf…
Just like the animal
Allan Wolf…
Just like the animal

We chanted these words back and forth in a delightful performance at the Lydia library. Allan Wolf performs and teaches about poetry with pizazz. He makes poems sing, shake, and shine.

I invited my students to join me in seeing Allan Wolf’s performance at the library. Four of them came. I loved seeing them and catching up on what they are reading and doing this summer.

Allan Wolf engages the audience. Through singing and dancing, he demonstrates how poems are musical. We all wiggled, made sound effects, and echoed to participate in the fun of poetry.

In this video he is showing kids how nursery rhymes are our first exposure to poetry, and they work because they rhyme. But mostly, the kids are just enjoying his humor when he gets the words wrong.

My students write a lot during the school year and for Poetry Month, they write a poem every day. Kaiden wanted to share his favorite poem “Wonder” with Allan Wolf. After the performance, Allan continued to engage with my students. Erin told him about our Slice of Life challenge and how she hates having to write an SOL every day.

Allan turned to a box on the table that he hadn’t used in the performance. He was sharing a secret with just us. He opened it to show two vials, one looked like water, the other thick syrup. He explained the process of getting syrup out of the tree sap. The sap must be boiled down. Then he showed them a gallon jug of tree sap. “It takes this much sap to make that much syrup.” That’s how writing is. You have to write and write to get the best, sweetest writing.

Allan Wolf did more in that metaphor moment to bridge the summer to next school year than any summer program could. His performance was fun, but the time he took to interact with my students and me afterwards was invaluable. Authors are my heroes.

At the beginning of his performance, Allan points to words on a makeshift clothesline to introduce himself. When he talks about the word “author”, he pronounces it with two gestures: “Aw” with sweet eyes and soft voice, and “Thor” with a raised arm as if he is holding a torch and a strong voice. Because authors are both sensitive and brave. Allen Wolf is a true “Aw-Thor”!

A selfie with Allan Wolf and Sami Sion, the best librarian ever!

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Poetry Friday: Joy

Posted in Photography, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged joy, Kim Douillard, nature poem on May 27, 2016| 9 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Julie at The Drift Record

Photo by Kim Douillard

The Butterfly

touched my outstretched hand
for only a millisecond,
yet left behind
a tingle

on my sensitive,
scarred skin.
I kept my arm
outstretched
waiting,

watching
this fluttering yellow kite
dart through the goldenrod
Daddy grew from seed.

How could he have known
when he sowed and watered
that at this moment
when I needed it most

A butterfly would
leave Joy
on my outstretched hand?

Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

Reflection: Yesterday, I wrote about touch. I saw this amazing photograph on Kim Douillard’s post this morning. All day the gift of touch has been on my mind. Even the slightest touch of a butterfly can wrap us in a moment of Joy. What else is there?

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