This is National Poetry Month, so there are many poetry prompts floating around. I appreciate you coming by today to exercise the muse.
I was in New Orleans for Easter and had the privilege of taking my 19 month old grandson to City Park. Close to Cafe du Monde where you can get amazing coffee and beignets, there is a playground set among old oaks. One of the oaks has grown huge branches draped over the ground. This oak is a favorite uncle that kids climb all over. Here is a link to more information about the Live Oaks in City Park.
New Orleans City Park Oak, photo created in Waterlogue
Please leave a small poem in the comments. You have permission to use this photo on your blog or social media. Be sure to support other writers with your comments.
You drape and dip hands free for daily dance– happily holding mother’s gold.
Margaret Simon, draft
A little lagniappe (Creole French for a little something extra): Thomas and the tree.
Thanks to Margaret Simon for hosting the Progressive Poem started by Irene Latham. And a big thank you for allowing blog-less me to appear on her blog once again. If you don’t know me I comment on Poetry Friday as Janet F. or Janet Clare F. and I love this poetry community! As a former teacher and poet I feel at home with my poetry friends.
Following last year’s procedure established by Donna at Mainely Write, we are choosing between two lines offered by the person before us and then writing two for the next poet. Our poem about kindness and friendship is now traveling a new path so off we go.
Thanks to Buffy for two great options, which did not surprise me at all, but I am off to the woods. I hear the bees buzzing, the quiet and the birdsong. I remember how I loved to explore the woods behind my house while playing as a child. And on hikes when my family camped in summers. Fresh air, imagination and wholesome times!
I’m a case of kindness – come and catch me if you can! Easily contagious – sharing smiles is my plan.
I’ll spread my joy both far and wide, As a force of Nature I’ll be undenied.
Words like, “how can I help?” will bloom in the street. A new girl alone on the playground – let’s meet, let’s meet!
We can jump-skip together in a double-dutch round. Over, under, jump and wonder, touch the ground.
Friends can be found when you open a door. Side by side, let’s walk through, there’s a world to explore.
Buffy’s lines for me were:
We’ll hike through a forest of towering trees
and
Should we follow the stream as it eddies and flows?
Not surprisingly I selected #1! It sounds like a wonderful way to enjoy special time with a new (or old) friend.
We’ll hike through a forest of towering trees
And now for Jone, I offer:
Option 1: Look for flowers, enjoy birdsong as long as we please.
OR
Option 2: Find a stream we can follow while we bask in the breeze.
(You can tell I was torn by that lovely idea of following the stream!)
Jone you may choose one of these OR feel free to choose one of your own as Kat Apel describes in the first day’s post! Happy poeting!
P.S. As I was contemplating the idea of walking for health, poetry and friendship for the Progressive Poem, it reminded me of the one I saw today at Poetry Boost with Michelle Schaub. I recalled Thoreau espousing the benefits of walking about 4 hours a day. I googled and found this interesting link. I am going to make a goal of doing more contemplative walking! With and without my friends, but friends are always good to have around!
(You can find me on FB at Janet Clare. If we haven’t yet connected, I look forward to doing so.)
This year’s progressive poem started out recognizing kindness and is currently bouncing off to the playground where we have met a new character. Here’s the progress so far:
I’m a case of kindness – come and catch me if you can! Easily contagious – sharing smiles is my plan.
I’ll spread my joy both far and wide, As a force of Nature I’ll be undenied.
Words like, “how can I help?” will bloom in the street. A new girl alone on the playground – let’s meet, let’s meet!
We can jump-skip together in a double-dutch round.
Denise at Dare to Care offered these line choices:
Over, under, jump and wonder, touch the ground
OR
But she was shy when greeted; she didn’t make a sound.
I am attracted to the action in the first line, so I have selected it.
I’m a case of kindness – come and catch me if you can! Easily contagious – sharing smiles is my plan.
I’ll spread my joy both far and wide, As a force of Nature I’ll be undenied.
Words like, “how can I help?” will bloom in the street. A new girl alone on the playground – let’s meet, let’s meet!
We can jump-skip together in a double-dutch round. Over, under, jump and wonder, touch the ground.
2021 Kidlit Progressive Poem Day 9
I am happy that I get to begin a new stanza, but since this poem has become a rhyming poem, I don’t want to burden it with a difficult word to rhyme. I also need to consider the theme thus far, kindness and friendship.
I love the idea of a friendship blooming. Chloe was around when I was trying to create the line choices, so I let her write one of them. I won’t tell you which one, though. My friend and critique partner, Molly Hogan, gets to choose from these two lines:
Friends can be found when you open a door.
Or
A never-ending sign connects hand to hand.
For a full list of participants, check out the sidebar.
Happy National Poetry Month! At the beginning of the month the Sunday Night Poetry Swaggers post a poem in response to a challenge. This month the challenge is from Linda Mitchell. “Something seen in many ways” patterned after Pat Schneider’s The Moon Ten Times as seen on Jama Rattigan’s blog here.
I was pretty last minute in doing this challenge. In fact, I’d call it a LaMiPoFri poem (coined by Kat Apel as “last minute poetry Friday” poem). To help myself find the time to write, I offered the challenge to my student Chloe, set the timer, and we wrote. I like her poem, too, so I will share it as well.
I’ve been working on crocheting a baby blanket for my daughter’s sister-in-law’s baby coming in May. With so many hours of loops and chains, I’ve got the blanket on my mind.
white crochet baby blanket by Margaret Simon
Baby Blanket. Ten Ways
I. Magic circle double crochet chain 3, chain 4 Granny square
II. Angel lace holes for small fingers
III. When the apple peeler curls a perfect unbroken spiral.
IV. Thread of cotton once worn by a field
V. Play peek-a-boo I see you over & under
VI. Miracle wrapped like a present
VII. Woven dreams criss-cross double wish
VIII. Scent of new skin settles in
IX. Touch to touch heirloom for a Hope Chest
X. Mother’s heart Grandmother’s grace Nothing but love
Margaret Simon, draft
Chloe wrote her poem about origami, a new obsession of hers.
Photo by Miguel u00c1. Padriu00f1u00e1n on Pexels.com
Join the gathering of Spiritual Journey posts at Karen’s blog.
Today is the beginning. Each day is, I suppose, but today begins National Poetry Month, my favorite month of the year. The KidLit Progressive Poem is off to a wonderful spinning start with Kat Apel.
It’s Maundy Thursday in another strange Holy Week. Thankfully, the 4 person choir at my church is gathering again and singing (masked) from the loft. Maundy Thursday music is my favorite. Feels holier. Foreshadowing death to resurrection. The solemn act of foot washing reminds us of Jesus’ servanthood and love. We are not quite to resurrection from the pandemic yet, but having had my vaccine, I am feeling a sense of relief and new beginnings.
The first three months of this year I read The Artist’s Way and met weekly with a group on Zoom. Our last meeting on Tuesday night felt sacred. We each shared a creative work. Creativity makes us human and vulnerable, but also celebratory and worthy. One of the tasks from the author Julia Cameron was to write an artist’s prayer. I didn’t write one yet. Jone inspired me when she shared hers. She included her past One Little Words into her prayer. My words are reach, open, presence, grace, explore, cherish, embrace, inspire.
Dear Great Creator,
I am here today to be an instrument of your work to explore your world with curiosity, to open myself to your creativity. I trust your hand will reach for mine, guide my pen to something new. May I be present in this day, embrace nature, follow the contrail of your vision for me.
May I be filled with grace so to bless others with my offering, May I nurture the child within, accept her imperfections and needs, cherish her with love and devotion. Help me to know I am not alone. By your side, I can be inspired to breathe your spirit into each day.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
On the last day of the March Slice of Life Challenge, walk with me. Listen to the birds. Take a minute to just be here.
This month of Slicing has been a way for me to be present. Present to my thoughts. Present to the words of others.
One of my favorite photographers is my writing critique group partner, fellow SOL blogger, Molly Hogan in Maine. I cannot imagine how she gets such amazing photos of birds. She must be so still and patient. Her latest batch on Facebook are shots of bluebirds. This one she posted looks like a cartoon character.
Consider writing a small poem in response to this photo in the comments or on your blog (link in the comments). Leave encouraging comments to other writers.
Bluebird by Molly Hogan
Morning birds serenade my walk, an aubade to the trees and sky, gentle as your hand on my sleeping shoulder. Margaret Simon, draft
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
I have been tutoring 3rd grade virtual students after school once a week. There are rarely more than 3 students who tune in. It’s on Monday; what can I expect? I actually prefer the small group. The planning for these meetings has been a challenge because I am not completely familiar with 3rd grade standards. I usually focus on a writing skill. This week when I checked on what third graders are learning, I found similes. That was a topic I could get my head around.
I created a slide show with some simile examples and a writing activity. Only one student came. D does not show his face or turn on his mike because there is a lot going on in his house. I often wonder if he is paying attention at all. When I asked him what a simile was, silence.
“Are you with me?”
In the chat box, “yes”.
“Do you know what it is?”
“no”
“Let me show you.”
I showed examples and then asked him to find the simile in a passage. He got it. We then moved on to the poem. Have you ever written a poem with a student you cannot see or hear? With discussion (me talking, him typing), we got through it. For taste and sound, I gave him some ideas to choose from.
“Do you have any clothing that is lime green?”
“A shirt”
“Where did you get that shirt?”
“school”
“Oh, it’s the Spirit Shirt you can wear on Friday?”
“yes”
So I typed “feels like Friday” as well as the line “Lime green reminds me of the shirt I wear to school on Spirit Days.”
We had “It smells like…” to fill in.
By then he had gotten the idea. He typed, “outside.” Perfect!
D unmuted long enough to read his poem out loud. I heard the pride in his voice. And then he said, “Thanks. I learned something today.” There it was, all I needed to smile.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
I’ve been writing morning pages for a few months now, and every once in a while something appears that is worthy of sharing. And then I saw this quote on the last task in the last week (Week 12).
So today I am sharing some morning pages writing.
3/23/21 Touchstones, things you love
Flowers in a vase on my kitchen table
Pearl ring from my Godmother’s estate (Margaret means “Pearl”)
3/26/21 Reading Aimee Nezhukumatahil this morning. Just writing her name makes me feel smart. She names things like fruit bats and whale sharks, becomes animal in her poem, leads me to wonder what animal I am, barely alive, awake enough to feel the familiar ache of waking. I am worried about the final shot, how my body will react or not, and what immunity really means. Yesterday my dog jumped on the AT&T saleswoman at the door. I told her he was friendly while I kept my distance. We all keep distances between us. I wonder what immunity really means.
Margaret Simon, draft
3/29/21
Resistance in “not good enough” mantra
Fear is an infection poisoning my body so I cannot perform
One of the most satisfying things about teaching for me is learning. I learn something new every day, and it still surprises me. On Teach this Poem by Poets.org, I learned about a poetic device: caesura, referring to a pause for a beat in the rhythm of a verse, often indicated by a line break or by punctuation. This literary device was used with effectiveness in a poem by Yesenia Montilla,a brief meditation on breath.
A brief meditation on breath
–they’re saying this virus takes your breath away, not like a mother’s love or like a good kiss from your lover’s soft mouth but like the police it can kill you fast or slow; dealer’s choice. a pallbearer carrying your body without a casket. they say it’s so contagious it could be quite breathtaking. so persistent it might as well be breathing down your neck—
A long held belief of mine is that our bodies will tell us when to pause. I’ve believed this since 1995 when a herniated disc in my spine caused severe pain and subsequent surgery. There was nothing to do but pause and heal. Whenever I moved, pain would send me back. Luckily, I’ve not had any serious trouble since then, but I have learned to listen and pause when my body tells me to. I haven’t quite conquered yet the annoyance and guilt that sets in. We always want answers, so when the answer is “wait”, we twiddle thumbs and pace and complain.
Pause to enjoy the azaleas– Walking to the parking lot from school, I stopped to notice how two azalea bushes were intertwined.
Following The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, I’ve been writing morning pages for a few months. They are scribbled scratches before my coffee, before my mind wakes up. I really wasn’t sure this exercise was working for me. I’ve been resistant and irritated about it. Like when my body hurts, morning pages were a kind of pain in my side. I did them out of obligation, a commitment to a weekly group. But yesterday morning, a poem came out. And today, I wrote about a picture book idea.
So, wait a minute…you’re telling me that writing morning pages every day since January 3rd is finally opening up your creativity? Could it really take that long? Perhaps it won’t for you, but it has for me. And I’m still unsure if I’ll keep up the practice after our last meeting this week. Yet, there is something to be said for taking a pause, taking your pulse before the day begins.
With my student Chloe, I read the poem Small Kindnesses by Danusha Laméris. I learned about Danusha from a podcast from Poetry Magazine featuring her in conversation with Naomi Shihab Nye (who is also well-known for a poem about Kindness.) Ramona recommended it last week.
Chloe and I talked about all the small kindnesses in the poem. About this line, “…for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass,” she said, “You know, she’s right. Red trucks are the friendliest!”
In every school, the custodian is the person you want to know. The poem about small kindnesses reminded me of a custodian at one of my schools. She is always dressed in bright colors with a wonderful head wrap and mask to match. She calls everyone “Love.” When I told this to Chloe, she gave me a word list around the topic of sun from her poetry writing journal Write the Poem. The list included effulgence which we both needed to Google. (Effulgence is brightness taken to the extreme.) My poem uses lines from Danusha, the word from Chloe, and the kindness that I almost forgot to notice had I not needed something to write about.
I’ve been thinking about the way when I walk the school hallways, it’s always the custodian who speaks. Excuse me, I say as I weave around her heavy trash bin that squeaks, rumbles and roars.
She calls after me, Have a nice day, Love! Radiant as the sun itself, her yellow t-shirt and rainbow leggings light my path. Even her scent is effulgent, shouting warmth of kindness, a hug for my hurried day.
Mostly, we want to greet each other with glowing smiles. To slip a scented flower beneath the doorway, like a spritz of perfume, leave kindness on someone else’s path.
I live on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. I love teaching, poetry, my dog Charlie, my three daughters, and dancing with my husband. This space is where I capture my thoughts, share my insights, and make connections with the world. Welcome! Walk in kindness.
