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Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category

#SOL21: Spiritual Thursday Silent Wind

Posted in Slice of Life, Spiritual Growth, Writing, tagged , , on March 4, 2021| 11 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
2021 Grab this image for your blog post.

Today is day 4 of the Slice of Life Story Challenge and Spiritual Journey (first) Thursday.

A group of bloggers commit to writing a post on the first Thursday of the month around a topic. I am rounding up the posts today. (Place your link in the InLinkz at the end of this page.) The topic I chose was March Spirit Wind. The lioness of March winds roared through here on Monday bringing a new cold front. March weather is fickle. One day may be sunny and 70’s and the next rainy and 40’s. In this topsy turvy weather, I long to find quiet time.

Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself
and know that everything in this life has a purpose.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Lately I have been using magazine collage to explore creativity. I am finding that it leads to inspiration for writing. The process of design, finding images I love, cutting, placing, gluing bring my mind to a place of rest where creativity can flow.

Silence Collage in Notebook 3/3/21

Linda Mitchell sent me some poem seeds that I carry with me in a ziplock bag along with pens, scissors, glue. I tossed out some seeds and this poem fell out.

Craft of Life, seed poem, notebook page 3/3/21

Perhaps the most important thing we bring to another person is the silence in us, not the sort of silence that is filled with unspoken criticism or hard withdrawal. The sort of silence that is a place of refuge, of rest, of acceptance of someone as they are. We are all hungry for this other silence.

Rachel Naomi Remen, gratefulness.org

I hope you can take some time to be quiet and let the Spirit Wind wash over you. Sacred moments can be found when we take time to rest and be open.

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

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#SOL21: #2 In the Natural Rhythm

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, Teaching, Writing, tagged , , on March 2, 2021| 14 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

I teach multiple grade levels, so in one given day I’ll read a social justice poem, an article about invertebrates, a picture book about water protectors, and student slices. But all reading roads lead to writing in one way, shape, or form. We write every day.

Today’s notebook collage is a sea of invertebrates, including a thesaurus page with the heading word specimen. But it was the words that led to my thoughts. We all have a story to tell. I may not have a story about significant environmental issues or roots in injustice, but it is a story, a history worth noting in a poem.

Notebook page collage, 3/1/21

In the Natural Rhythm of Memory

While she may speak of rivers,
and he speaks for the trees, the poet
speaks for mollusks, snails, and anemones.
Who do I represent?
Neither drums of nature, nor blood
of brothers tell my story.
Not poor or tortured;
My river runs from Mississippi
to Texas, through veins of magnolias
and spray of Gulf waves–
my history is a southern drawl
spoken over the telephone,
sweet as maple syrup,
white as cornbread,
and golden as the morning sun.

Margaret Simon, draft

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SOLC21: #1 It won’t be Perfect

Posted in #sosmagic, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , on March 1, 2021| 19 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

A friend sent me an article suggestion from The Atlantic. “Ode to Low Expectations” by James Parker. Here’s a quote to start off my Slice of Life March Madness:

We’re half-finished down here, always building and collapsing, rigging up this and that, dropped hammers and flapping tarps everywhere. Revise your expectations downward. Extend forgiveness to your idiot self. Make it a practice. Come to rest in actuality.

James Parker, The Atlantic March 2021

I needed to read this before committing to a month long writing challenge. I need to lower my expectations and be myself on this page. Who else is any better or worse? Who else could I even try to be?

I’m testing my creativity every day. If I place my hands on the keys and get something written, then I’m ahead of the game. I’m just warning you, if you are a reader of my blog. Every day is a risk. Every day is scary. But I am here. Will you join me?

Notebook page 2/26/21

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Poetry Friday: LamiPoFri

Posted in Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged , on February 26, 2021| 9 Comments »

Poetry Friday is with Karen Edmisten*.

As I peer through bleary eyes at the end of a long week after a week off, I am remiss to find a proper poem to post, but Alas! Kat Apel has saved the day. She created a form just right for this occasion.

What is a lamipofri? It’s a poetry snapshot that’s quickly scribed, to give people an insight into the world around you at a given point in time – that point being the last minute as you’re scrambling for a Poetry Friday poem to post! Hence the name: LAst MInute of a POetry FRIday! 

Kat Apel
February Morning by Margaret Simon

A single moment
sky beckons
softness of a peach

A day begins
click,
capture,
send.

Margaret Simon, draft

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SOSMagic: Write Fast

Posted in #sosmagic, Writing, tagged , on February 18, 2021| 12 Comments »

Ruth invites bloggers to Share Our Stories. Today’s prompt is to write fast.

Capture a shadow, dance with the wind, stand in a rainbow, begin at the end.


Mary Anne Radmacher
Photo by brenoanp on Pexels.com

Leo is learning the difference between his reflection and his shadow. He sees himself in a mirror, says, “Cute Shadow!” I am finding myself fascinated by how his little brain makes connections. How does language develop? What I am learning is that it is not at all linear. We start by repeating things a big person says. Leo parrots often. I was writing a card to a friend and said, “Dear Ellen.” He took the paper using the pen to draw right over my words and said, “Dear Ellen.” But then he kept scribbling hard and said, “Words!” And then some gibberish I didn’t understand. I took a video on my phone and sent it to Ellen.

I don’t have much video from my own children growing up. I’m sure I was as fascinated, but I was also busy being their mom. Being grandmother allows me time to reflect. I am writing things in a notebook for him. I’ve decided not to worry whether or not he will care about this when he gets older. That is not the point. I think that so many times as someone who wants to write, I worry too much about audience.

I read this morning on the Writer’s Almanac that Toni Morrison felt free when she wrote. She didn’t worry about her audience. She just marveled in the way writing consumed her. “But the writing was the real freedom, because nobody told me what to do there. That was my world and my imagination. And all my life it’s been that way.”

I don’t expect to be Toni Morrison, but I can take a bit of freedom from her. Let go and just write what comes. Ruth’s invitation today was to write fast. This was a quick write, about 20 minutes or so. Just enough time to bake a brownie or write a post. Both are sweet in their own way.

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Poetry Friday: Raccoon Outside the Back Door

Posted in Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged , , , on February 5, 2021| 15 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Jone.

The beginning of February is finally here and the Swaggers are posting responses to a new challenge. This month Catherine Flynn challenged us.

Copy a mentor poem (or other text) “word for word, then replace [that poet’s] language with your own.”
Inspired by S. Kirk Walsh’s essay “How E.L. Doctorow Taught an Aspiring Writer to Hear the Sounds of Fiction” (https://www.nytimes.com/2021/01/09/books/review/e-l-doctorow-virginia-woolf-music-literature-language.html )

The Writer’s Almanac comes daily in my email inbox. Some days I barely have time to read it, but others I find a kernel of inspiration, a poem, an author, a rabbit hole. On this day, I remembered Catherine’s prompt and tucked the poem into a document to work with later.

The process was fun. I used the suggesting tool in Google docs editor. That way I kept the original underneath the new text I added. In Greg Watson’s poem, the main character is a yellow lab waiting for its owner outside a coffee shop. We don’t have a yellow lab, but my little schnoodle Charlie goes bonkers when our resident raccoon visits to steal our outdoor cat’s food.

When I’m up early, I feed the cat before dawn. When the raccoon comes, I let Charlie out to the side yard when he goes crazy. One morning, I actually saw the raccoon. It did not run away as I expected, but just stood still like a stone creature from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Watson’s poem gave me the perfect structure to capture this surprising moment.

Raccoon Outside the Back Door

The raccoon outside the back door
today does not move; but instead,

still with ever-expectant energy,
like a heron perched for the catch,

forepaws poised in the air
above the leaf-littered sidewalk,

he stops without making a sound,
knowing that any moment

the cat food will disappear,
slipped back into the human house,

and night will suddenly fall into
day: every sound, sight, and aroma

disturbed, the door swinging
open and shut, with a backward glance

awkward silhouette, following,
as if it had somewhere to go.

Margaret Simon, after Greg Watson

See other Swaggers poems from mentor poems:

Molly Hogan: Nix the Comfort Zone
Linda Mitchell: A Word Edgewise
Catherine Flynn: Reading to the Core
Heidi Mordhorst: My Juicy Little Universe

Photo by anne sch on Pexels.com

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Spiritual Thursday: Take Heart

Posted in Spiritual Growth, Writing, tagged , on February 4, 2021| 7 Comments »

Spiritual Journey First Thursday is being gathered today by Fran Haley.

Take Heart is Fran’s choice for our Spiritual Thursday posts. In my Mississippi childhood, Dear Heart was a common feminine expression, similar to cher in the Cajun culture I now live in. Dear heart is an expression of endearment that could have a connotation of condescension.

But Take Heart is not at all condescending. In a sense, its meaning is quite the opposite. To Take Heart is a way to overcome the troubles of the world.


“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” — John 16:33

Take Heart means to live a life that understands there is trouble, there is hardship, there is pain, but there is a greater spirit that overcomes and offers hope. As I read Out of the Dust with a student this week, he identified the theme, “There is always hope.” A pandemic is a kind of Dust Bowl for our time. We have little control over who the virus will target next. Our handkerchiefs are our masks. We stay distanced to avoid the dust. Yet, there is hope. There is always hope.

I started thinking about ways I overcome and find peace in my own life and wrote a “Things to do” poem.

Things to Do to Take Heart

Notice the singing of morning birds.
Begin each day in prayerful meditation.
Read poetry. Write poetry.
Write a letter to a girl in prison.
Fold an origami heart.
Sing a lullaby to a new baby.
Take a child to the park. Swing with him on your lap.
Kiss the screen on Facetime.
Laugh with your partner.
Go to sleep to the owl’s call.

Margaret Simon, 2021
My students and I are making origami heart messages for V-Day.

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Poetry Friday: Doing the Work of a Poet

Posted in Poetry Friday, Teaching, Writing, tagged on January 29, 2021| 10 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Jan at BookSeedStudio.

Last Friday I posted poems from my two fifth grade girls who responded to Amanda Gorman’s powerful words with their own poems. Their poetry prowess has not stopped. On Thursday, Kaia announced that she had written another poem. She explained to me that she saw Beldam, the Other Mother in Coraline. She googled it and found a poem by John Keats, La Belle Dame sans Merci. As she’s telling me this, she is writing and googling and writing and asking me about the Queen and how tall she is. Where is she going with this? In the end, it all led to an original ballad-esque poem.

I told her, “You are doing the work of a poet.”

Her face (her eyes, for she was wearing a mask) lit up. “Really, why?”

I explained that as a writer, we seek inspiration and research it and then write from it. Amanda Gorman explained in an interview with Anderson Cooper that she read other inaugural poets and researched inspirational speeches to write her poem, The Hill We Climb. “You are doing this kind of work. You are not just writing from my prompts anymore. You are actually a poet.”

Those words inspired her to write another poem. I will post a stanza here. She said, “I love how in poetry, you can write about anything. I can write about your desk, that pen, the Kleenex box.”

“Yes, you can.” I thought to myself, a dream come true. Or my One Little Word, Inspire, at work.

I’d like to find a place to send some of her work. If you have any ideas, please leave a comment.

The Work of a Poet

As you pick up the pen, you wonder what to write 
Thinking this way and that way, until you see a light
A shining and glistening rhythm it sets off
And helps you to the end of the paper, as fast as a cough

Kaia, 5th grade
Photo by Jessica Lewis from Pexels

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SOS Magic: Sacred Writing Space

Posted in #sosmagic, Writing on January 27, 2021| 10 Comments »

I’m writing today in response to an invitation on
Sharing Our Stories: Take Space for Writing.

The word sacred can have many connotations. When I read today’s invitation to write about your sacred writing space, I began with thoughts about the word itself. Sacred. Yesterday I read Nikki Giovanni’s poem “In the Spirit of Martin” alongside a fifth grade student. She asked the question, “What does sacred mean?” responding to the poem’s first line, “This is a sacred poem…”

My initial response was “holy.” Sacred is a place that is quiet and contemplative, like a church.

Is my writing space sacred? Consecrated by different sizes, shapes, and surfaces of paper. Blessed with pens which become cat toys if I leave them out. Ordained by hard maple wood. My writing space is my kitchen. It’s where all the animals hang out. It’s close to the coffee pot. There’s a door that leads out to a winding bayou and cypress trees.

Our writing spaces become sacred when we make the space to sit in quiet stillness, to listen to the inner voice, and to be confident enough to put words on a page (or screen).

When the c trades places with the a, sacred becomes scared. Sacred can be scary. I’ve certainly had that mix of butterfly flutters in my belly when entering a sacristy.

Writing can be scary, too.

I’m learning to trust the process. To let my words be sacred. To open up myself to the vulnerable space. It’s still scary, but more often than not, it feels fulfilling and safe.

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Poetry Friday: The Sounds of Words

Posted in Poetry Friday, Teaching, Writing, tagged , , on January 22, 2021| 20 Comments »

Poetry Friday round-up is with Laura Shovan.

Like the nation, I have fallen head over heals in love with Amanda Gorman, the youngest inaugural poet ever, and a heroine to many young girls just like the ones I teach. All girls, no matter their race, can now dream of being a Vice President someday. As much as I admire Kamala Harris and her accomplishments, the star of Inauguration Day was young Amanda Gorman. I couldn’t wait to present her to my students this week.

We started on Tuesday with her poem “In this Place (An American Lyric)” written for Tracy K. Smith’s inauguration as Poet Laureate in 2017. (This post from the Library of Congress contains the poem and a video from the reading.) As Kaia heard that poem, she was writing. And after class that day, she sent me two more poems. Amanda lit a fire in her, a flame for words.

There’s a poem in this place 
after Amanda Gorman


Not here nor there
But there’s no need to look everywhere
tug and pull on my hair 
Hoping that this poem, has time to spare

There’s a poem in this place 
While i’m in disgrace
Of finding my lyric
That belongs in this place

There’s a poem in this place
Still not being found 
Is it in a dog hound?
No, it weighs more than that one pound 

There’s a poem in this place
While the wind is hitting my face
Being withdrawn due to lack of space
Without leaving any sign of a trace

There’s a poem in this place 
Where could it be?
Wait, I have found it!
It’s in YOU
and ME. 

Kaia, 5th grade

On Thursday, we used Pernille Ripp’s generous gift of a slide show to visit and discuss “The Hill We Climb.” While the message of this poem was powerful, I was drawn to Amanda’s effective word choice, how they sound and how their meanings change with usage. Combinations like just is and justice, arms, harm, and harmony, and tired, tried, and tied. Chloe’s poem below is her good effort to play with word sounds like Amanda.

There’s a poem in sight 
Too bright
To fight
It takes flight 
To the world
of an artist
Who’s never artless
Who just started
to harness
The sharpest words
That bring out
The creativity
With a twist
And a big
Dream to
Feel like
They exist

Chloe, 5th grade

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