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

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

 

 

Photo by Kim Douillard

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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Spiritual Journey thursday

 

baby's touch

My dentist died this week.  He has been my dentist for 30 years.  When I think of him, I think of his hands.  His hands were soft and gentle.  They moved with confidence. His hands calmed me down.  I will miss his hands.

One of the givens of human nature is the need for touch.  Research shows that when a child is deprived of human touch, he will not thrive.  Sometimes we forget this basic need.  We get busy with life and forget about touching the ones we love.

When my daughters were born, touch was a part of our daily life together.  There was feeding, bathing, changing, and cuddling.  Even after they could dress themselves, cuddling together at night with a book on the sofa or in the bed kept touching a part of our lives.

When did we stop touching?  I don’t remember the day we stopped cuddling.  They grew up.  We got busy.  It happened without me noticing.

Now my daughters are adults and live their own lives.  Touch is the occasional hug when we get together.

The same thing happens to couples.  When my husband and I were dating and then married, we touched constantly.  A kiss, a hug, a pat.  But now we’ve been married almost 34 years.  We have to be more intentional about touching, or we get busy and forget.

Dancing has brought us back to touching.   We dance at least once a week.  Dancing requires touching.  We hold each other.  Our hands touch and hold and spin.  Sometimes we step on each other’s feet.  Usually we are smiling. Touching, music, and movement bring joy, laughter, and love.

My last dentist appointment was a few months ago.  Clyde had retired in January, so I was surprised when he came in to check on me.  He couldn’t stay away, he told me.  I was so relieved to see him.  I didn’t know it would be the last time.

Take time today to remember the power, the magic, and the love of a gentle touch.

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Please use this button on your site for DigiLit Sunday posts

Please use this button on your site for DigiLit Sunday posts

The school year has ended for me. The end isn’t a celebration for me. I try to feel excited about summer, but my heart is hurting. I miss my kids. I wonder what they are doing. I miss our daily connection. I hear their voices in my head. Eventually this fades, and I fit into my days like they were meant for me.

This weekend in order to tender the depression I know is coming, I traveled home to my parents’ house on the lake. This is a beautiful place to reflect, read, and relax.

Canada geese

While at the lake, these Canada geese hatched five goslings.

Teachers need this time as much as our students do. Time to not worry about the next lesson or the necessary evaluations. Time to look out at nature and just be present.

This is my intention: Presence.

My other intention is professional reading. I have started Katherine Bomer’s book The Journey is Everything. What I love about this book is Katherine writes as if she is speaking directly to me. Her tone is easy and conversational as she marvels in the wonder of the essay. I think her book will transform me personally as a writer as much as it does me as a teacher. The very things I love about writing this blog, writing to know what I’m thinking, is central to her theory about essaying. I grabbed the following quote to keep.

Students need essays

In order to read with more intention, I will be joining a book study group. Let me know in the comments if you want to join us. I am planning a Twitter chat with Katherine Bomer for later in the summer, so stay tuned.

If you have written a DigiLit blog post this week, please click the link below.

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Poetry Friday round-up with Violet. Click here to read more posts.

Poetry Friday round-up with Violet. Click here to read more posts.

The end of the school year is coming to a close. One fun day that our gifted students look forward to every year is Gifted by Nature Day. We hold it in City Park and all the elementary gifted students in our parish attend. The day is full of games, art, and writing.

This year middle school gifted students (who fondly remember their own Gifted by Nature Days) led this year’s art activity. They presented a skit about endangered animals. Then our kids were encouraged to freely create their own favorite animal, real or imaginary.

I led a poetry writing activity as a response to the mask activity. And what better poetic form to use than a mask poem? The directions were simple: Write a poem from the point of view of your mask. Use your creature’s name as the title. Use I statements. We read a few mentor poems from Irene Latham”s Dear Wandering Wildebeest and Patricia MacLachlan’s Cat Talk.

The students were primed for creative thinking after making their masks. I am sharing some of the masks and poems here.

This is Erin as a narwhal, of course.

This is Erin as a narwhal, of course.

Call me watercat. I am guard. I am smart and curious. I run very quickly through prickly vines. I am big. I am blue. I am sneaky. I am fluffy. I am strong. I am a watercat. by Madison, 2nd grade

Call me watercat.
I am guard.
I am smart and curious.
I run very quickly through
prickly vines.
I am big.
I am blue.
I am sneaky.
I am fluffy.
I am strong.
I am a watercat.
by Madison, 2nd grade

How adorable is this puppy mask with a bow on its chin!

How adorable is this puppy mask with a bow on its chin!

Dis-Grace I am a disgrace. I am a mess of an animal. I am rainbow. I have three sets of ears. My mouth stays open. My nose is green. People come around me and say "uhoo." They must hate me. Then I hear people say, "That's cool." Maybe I'm not a Dis-Grace after all. by Emily, 5th grade

Dis-Grace
I am a disgrace.
I am a mess of an animal.
I am rainbow.
I have three sets of ears.
My mouth stays open.
My nose is green.
People come around me and say “whoo.”
They must hate me.
Then I hear people say, “That’s cool.”
Maybe I’m not a Dis-Grace after all.
by Emily, 5th grade

 

Shadow, by Jacob, 2nd grade

Shadow, by Jacob, 2nd grade

I was born in a magic cloud. Then I flew all day. I made a lot of friends and we played in the Milky Way. Then we found a top hat, black and a very light gray. I put it on and then I had the power to always save the day.

I was born in a magic cloud.
Then I flew all day.
I made a lot of friends
and we played in the Milky Way.
Then we found a top hat,
black and a very light gray.
I put it on and then I had the power
to always save the day. Jaci, 5th grade

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Slice of Life Challenge

At one of my schools, I coordinate a leadership organization called “Paw Pride.”  Students are nominated by their teachers to be in this group.  Throughout the year, we participate in service-oriented projects.

Yesterday we took an end-of-the-year field trip to Avery Island, home of Tabasco sauce.  I love field trips.  Yes, they exhaust me, but the kids are so excited and can’t wait to learn and play.  This group worked hard and raised enough money for this treat.  Avery Island is in our own backyard.  We should know and learn about the products of our own area.

 

3D map

“Are we here?”

“Look!  There’s the warehouse!”

Seeing the overall, big picture on a 3D map intrigues the students.

 

salt barrels

The mash from the peppers are aged for three years.  Salt covers the tops of the barrels, slowly spicing the aging peppers. At the factory store, students sampled different Tabasco flavors and even Tabasco ice cream.

 

bird city 3

In 1895, the snowy egret was nearly wiped out by plume hunters.  E. A. McIlhenny created Bird City, a nesting ground for these majestic birds. I took this picture from the high look-out deck. It was a nice climb but worth it for this view.

Paw Pride with Buddha

E. A. McIlhenny acquired a gift of an ancient Buddha statue in 1936. The statue is surrounded by authentic Asian flora.  Visiting the Buddha is a highlight of any Avery Island field trip.

Jungle gardens

Jungle Gardens is often used for wedding photos, and you can see why. This is a beautiful setting just beyond the Buddha statue in Jungle Gardens.  At this point, the students had disappeared into a wooded area.  I sent a parent chaperone after them.  The magic of this place drew them in.  A wonderful way to celebrate May, these students were able to spend a day outside of the classroom learning about a locally made product as well as enjoying the beauty of nature.

 

 

 

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Please use this button on your site for DigiLit Sunday posts

Please use this button on your site for DigiLit Sunday posts

I follow Kim Douillard’s blog, Thinking Through my Lens, and she posts a weekly photo challenge. Yesterday the challenge word was Curves. She wrote, “When your week throws you curves…take photos of them!” And I thought, if your week throws you curves, write about it. So I am going to combine the two, DigiLit and Photo Challenge.

May is a stressful time for me as I’m sure it is for most teachers. As I thought about this month and the many stresses, I realized I needed a new perspective.

There is a large old oak in my front yard. I look at it every day. Yet this image shows a new perspective, looking between the branches.

between the branches

If I turn my perspective to the curve between the branches, I can see a new design. The branch that was trimmed has new growth. Some curves may be tough to take, but later allow for new growth.

On a walk with my dog, we came upon this snail in the grass. Small and slow, the snail curved his slick body, stretching out as far as he could go, lugging along his shell. When we stopped to look, Charlie didn’t see it, so he stepped on it. The snail retreated back into his shell.

snail in grass

When I complain about May, my wise husband says, “May is followed by June.” So I can make it. I can stretch out and lug along because I am heading toward a safe harbor, a time of renewal, “the big weekend!”

a single rose

The curves of a single rose fascinate me. These are my Mother’s Day flowers. They remind me that I am in this with others. I am not alone. I can turn to colleagues and friends. They will listen to my rants and my complaints and tell me that all will be well. And it will be.

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Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for March Slice of Life Challenge.

Join the Two Writing Teachers blog for March Slice of Life Challenge.

Emerging from 30 days of poetry, words eluded me.  I looked outside for inspiration.  With my camera in hand, I captured the natural meaning of the word saturated.  

Reflections in the flood by Margaret Simon

Reflections in the flood by Margaret Simon

 

After three days of incessant rain, I am saturated.
The ground below is just a shadow.
My words are hiding there.

Resurrection Fern by Margaret Simon

Resurrection Fern by Margaret Simon

Fern glistens in the emerging sun.
Beauty finds me
speechless.

Lizard face-off by Margaret Simon

Lizard face-off
by Margaret Simon

Like these lizards,
face to face
puff up and show their true colors,
I dive back in,
searching for the light.

Bayou Sunspot by Margaret Simon

Bayou Sunspot
by Margaret Simon

When I am not even trying, poetry finds me.  In reflection of her month-long poem-a-day writing, Violet Nesdoly posted this quote from Annie Dillard.

Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes. – Annie Dillard

 

I turn to poetry when I feel inadequate.  When I’m not sure what to write, creating a verse moves me forward.  So here I am again, no challenge, no poem-a-day, just me, opening the page,  and giving freely, so my writing will not turn to ashes.  

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NPM2016

Discover. Play. Build.

Ruth Ayres invites us the celebrate each week. Click over to her site Discover. Play. Build. to read more celebrations.

This week was state testing week. We made it through. Because I am an extra teacher, I was assigned a small group to test. The routine was changed. I stayed at one school all day.

When on Friday the test was over, I resumed my routine. My students were so excited to see me again. They truly missed me. I think they also missed the flexibility of our days. It was as though they could breathe again.

I celebrate the love I share with my students while I am sad to realize the year is quickly coming to an end. So many activities planned; end-of-the-year picnics, talent shows, and field trips will interrupt my class again and again.

I want to stay calm about it all, so I planned a creative end-of-the-year project. We are making re-purposed books. They will paint the pages of a discarded book and add art and writing to them. They are already excited, and the mess making has begun. I celebrate creativity and mess making.

I am altering a book as well. This inspires the creative side of me. No one sees it, really, so I let go of my inhibitions about my art talent and just do it. Here’s a page I’ve painted waiting for a poem.

kaleidoscope

Pass the scissors
then the glue;
I am pasting poems
in a book.

Make a mess
filling the pages
with happy words.

Anyone can make a book.
Let’s make a book today!

National Poetry Month is at the end. I thought it would never come. Writing a poem a day has been a challenge. I celebrate all the poets out there writing daily and inspiring me and my students to do the same.

I celebrate Irene Latham who blogs here. She generously Skyped with my students on Poem in your Pocket Day. She listened patiently while they shared their own poems and responded with nothing but kindness. She even answered a question about whether or not she felt haunted. (Kids say the darnedest things.) But Irene handled it like a champ. She told my students that she likes to visit graveyards and feel the presence of people who have gone before.

Irene offered excellent advice about finding new words; brainstorm a list of words about your topic. Then mark them all out and start again. This forces you to find new and unusual words.

I also want to thank Laura Purdie Salas whose putrid poetry gave my students permission to write about poop and other yucky stuff.

And what would NPM be without Amy Ludwig VanDerwater? She wondered with us all month long and inspired my students to write about their world.

Thank you to all my readers who stuck with me each day as I attempted to entertain the poetic muse. Here’s to another wonderful National Poetry Month. Do not be mistaken, though. Poetry is made for every day!

Donna has the final line to the Progressive Poem and it is just right!

Donna has the final line to the Progressive Poem and it is just right!

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NPM2016

Most every Tuesday, I wake early to serve at Solomon House, a mission of my church and a food bank.  My self-appointed job is to find the clients’ names on a printed spreadsheet, check their IDs, and have them sign.  During this process, I say good morning, how are you today, and have a great day.  And most times they say these same greetings to me.  I feel blessed by their presence, their love, and this small way to be a blessing to someone else.

 

 

buttercups

There are places where
buttercups bloom
unattended
no one cares
or notices.

They bloom anyway.

Solomon House waiting

There are people
nobody sees
walking alone on the street
clothes in need of  cleaning
backs aching from failure.

The news speaks for itself
but I can help.

My hands are warm and kind;
they reach for you.

My mind is clear and focused;
I think of you.

My shoulder is light and flexible;
I can carry your burden.

I see buttercups.

I see you.

–Margaret Simon

 

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