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

Who among us doesn’t love a good book festival? This weekend my husband, my hero, offered to drive on Friday after work so that we could attend the Mississippi Book Festival in my home town of Jackson, MS. We had plans to visit my mother, but the book festival started at 9 AM, driving late into Friday evening was necessary.

It was so worth it! I was able to see an interview with Kate DiCamillo who is always a delight. With Ellen Hunter Ruffin, who is a hoot in her own right, they bantered and kept the audience laughing. Kate was introduced by none other than Ann Patchet, who later joined her on a panel about friendship and narrative.

When a teacher in the audience asked Kate about themes in her books, she said, “I have no idea what the themes are. Forgiveness and family seem to be my preoccupations. Those things are in there unwittingly. The only way to tell a story well is to let your guard down. Be vulnerable.”

As a teacher, a standard that I hit my head on constantly is “identify the theme.” It is so interesting to me that theme is the last thing an author thinks about when writing, if at all.

Kate is a cheerleader for reading aloud. I’ve started reading her new book Ferris to my students. They can’t wait to read more.

Kate DiCamillo after signing hundreds of books. We could be best friends.

Authors are real people. They struggle, as we do, to make sense of the world and to do their best to mold and shape the lives of children.

I ran into a new children’s book author who I had met at the Fay B. Kaigler book festival in April. She joined me and Irene Latham for dinner one night, and we hit it off immediately. Fate and this festival brought us back together. Her new book is Trunk Goes Thunk: A Woodland Tale of Opposites. She was on a panel of children’s book authors. They talked about who they were and where their ideas came from. Heather was enthralled by a live cam video of a fallen log. She wanted to write a book about all the animals that travel the log bridge which ultimately leads from separate to together. If you collect children’s books, be on the lookout. It’s coming out soon.

Author Heather Morris and me at the Mississippi Book Festival.

Today is a dual post for Spiritual Journey and Poetry Friday. Ruth Ayres is our host for the Spiritual Thursday link up here. Heidi Mordhorst has the Poetry Friday gathering here.

Ruth chose the topic of “wholeheartedly” for Spiritual Thursday. When I looked up the meaning of wholeheartedly, I read “with complete sincerity and commitment.”

Due to the invasion of Hurricane Francine, I wholeheartedly jumped into protection mode. My daughter sheltered at our house with her two littles, Leo (5.5) and Stella (3.5). Combine that toddler energy with a 6 month old puppy and you get an equation of full on energy. We baked, we colored (Albert ate a few crayons), we read, watched a fun Disney movie “Brave”, and played and played and played. My daughter said to me as they took all the plastic containers out of the cabinet, “They never get bored.”

My teacher heart was happy when Leo wanted to write a book. We folded a zine, and he wrote and drew. It was fun so see him making the connection between letters and sounds and words. His first page read “Mat is soopr hro.” He couldn’t stop laughing when he decided that Mat would sit on a pear. I loved seeing his face shine with pride.

I’m happy to report that Francine came through with little fanfare here in the arch of the boot, New Iberia. She skirted by to the east and only dumped rain and some leaves and branches. My grandchildren have learned about earning cash for chores, so they happily helped pick up sticks (a penny a stick) and swept cypress needles off the deck.

This post is neither very spiritual or poetic, but I felt I should post something. There’s a reason I didn’t write much while my children still lived in our home. I am wholeheartedly a mother and now a grandmother. I wouldn’t change a thing.

Leo and Stella show pride in their baked banana bread.

I don’t usually choose stock photos for this poetry prompt; however, today I am listening to the downpour that is the early bands of Hurricane Francine, and I can’t help but think about the helpers. Today is the 23rd anniversary of 9/11. I am not with my students to do any kind of lesson due to our weather. I always struggle with teaching on September 11th. To me it is a day that changed everything. I can remember our fairly innocent and carefree life before. This scene is poignant. Firefighters running toward disaster. That is what helpers do.

Take a few minutes today to remember. Then write a small poem in the comments. Depending on power and internet, I may or may not be able to respond. Try to respond to each other.

Our collective history
is marked by single moments–
a gunshot that kills a president,
a footstep on the moon,
a plane crashing into a tower.
We are moved and changed forever.
Remember the helpers.
Thank the helpers.
Be a helper.
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 teach gifted elementary students. I think of my classroom door as a revolving one because students from grades 2-6 come in and go out all day long. Two weeks ago I brought in some Gulf fritillary caterpillars in a butterfly net. I placed them on the table and invited my students to ask questions.

This is Marifaye’s sketchbook neatly written with her 5 questions and the answers. (Not all notebooks looked this neat.)

Students gathered around the table and drew what they saw, asking question after question. They became enthusiastic yet frustrated that I would not give them a straight answer. They practiced using Google to research and answer their questions.

This week the caterpillars eclosed (hatched) and once again we observed and drew pictures then released the butterfly.

Danielle, 2nd grade, wrote a sentence. “This is my drawing of a Gulf fritillary. I drew a vine with a flower.”
James wrote a fib poem about the butterfly. (We talked about using more specific vocabulary than words like nice and cool.)
Gulf
vine
flowers
butterfly
a fritillary
flying through the beautiful sky

I don’t always have nature at my fingertips to lead inquiry with my classes. This was a wonderful way to introduce the idea that asking questions and wondering are all part of the process of learning. And releasing was just pure Joy!

Poetry Friday: Next Time

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Buffy Silverman.

This month Mary Lee Hahn challenged the Inklings to write after Joyce Sutphen‘s poem Next Time. Sutphen’s poem has a dreamy quality to it, that if-only-I-could-do-it-again thought process. I was drawn to her lines “Next time I won’t waste my time on anger…Next time, I’ll rush up to people I love,
look into their eyes, and kiss them, quick.”

I write about grief a lot. Why is that? Grief settles after a while but is always there waiting to be released again and again. It can be set off by a song, the familiar sound of a bird, or my grandson saying “I want to Facetime Pop.” We have to remind him (at age 5) that Pop died. When I sent this poem to fellow inkling Heidi Mordhorst, she said, “You write again and again about grief because you are still learning exactly this.”

Abby Wambach said recently in “We Can Do Hard Things” that she has made friends with her grief. “grief has become a friend to me, in that I am developing a real true relationship with it, because it’s the access point to all of the most intense feelings that I feel, the most intense sadness, the most intense anger.” So, here I am again and again, writing a grief poem.

Next Time

after Joyce Sutphen

I’ll avoid the cut grass
where the snake eggs lie.
I’ll check the mailbox for menacing wasps.
Next time I’ll be wary
when the cat calls to me
in mournful mews.

Next time I won’t stray
from the well-worn path.
I’ll acknowledge wisdom of ancestors
who learned, felt a spiritual guide.
Who denies their purpose?

Next time I’ll read the book
start to finish, underline passages
in pencil, notes in the margin.
Next time I’ll know death comes.
It will not surprise me. Gut me.

Next time I’ll answer the call
on the first ring. I’ll be there
by your side, holding your hand
in mine. I’ll let love keep its promise,
be my purpose.  

Margaret Simon, draft

Photo by Robert So on Pexels.com

Linda @A Word Edgewise
Catherine @Reading to the Core
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Mary Lee @Another Year of Reading
Heidi @my juicy little universe

Golden Orb Weaver Spider (aka banana spider) by Maggie Simon

I was looking at the photos on my daughter Maggie’s phone and came across this spider. She had taken the photo on a nature walk along the bayou with her children while attending a birthday party. It is commonly known as a banana spider. Can you see its web? I featured a golden orb weaver in my yet-to-be-published book Swamp Song. I wrote the poem as a golden shovel for the golden orb weaver.

A golden shovel is a poem that uses the text of a line from another poem or text.  Align the words of the quote down the right hand margin.  Use these words to create a poem written around the words of the quote.  The poem may or may not be of the same topic of the quote.

Today you can choose to find a quote you like to write about in a golden shovel or write your own ekphrastic poem about the photo. Please post your poems in the comments and give encouraging feedback to other writers.

“Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space”

A Noiseless Patient Spider by Walt Whitman

Golden threads surrounded
her throne, detached
from her banana-abdomen, woven in
curious ways, measureless
vibrations like waves of oceans
swallowing flying insects of
space.
Margaret Simon, all rights reserved

Words that Mend

Writing in a community of writers has led me to so many wonderful connections with other teacher-writers from all over the world. I discovered the writing community at Ethical ELA in the spring of 2020 when we were all isolated. Being able to find meaningful writing prompts and support from others helped me feel less alone.

Now, four years later, I am honored to be involved in a book project. I have two chapters in a book that gives teachers an understanding of how poetry can be healing in our classrooms and beyond. Words that Mend is here, alongside its sister books 90 Ways of Community and Just YA.

One of my chapters in Words that Mend appears in the section Teacher Healing titled Walking through Grief with Poetry. I wrote about my grief journey after my father’s death and how writing poems helped me process that grief. The comments others left for me on my poems felt authentic and caring. Healing from grief doesn’t happen quickly, if ever, but finding a space for sharing my thoughts in poetry gave me a purpose. And having this book now out in the world gives me purpose.

The second chapter I wrote is titled Write Along with Me, An Invitation Accepted. I wrote about how one of my students used poetry in my class to carry her through grief and how she reached out to me to start a small after school writing group. In that chapter, you can find writing prompts that worked for me as I worked with her. In fact, each chapter includes a section for a prompt for teachers and students.

Penny Kittle wrote this about Words that Mend:

“My time reading Words that Mend was not only worth it, it has multiplied my thinking about teachers as writers in profound ways. These chapters contain the lives and experiences of teachers—written like a colleague who pulls up a chair to sit beside you—and you lean in, listening with intensity and joy. What a gift this book is: it holds so much. Words that Mend is the invitation each of us needs to write in community. In celebration. In support. In discovery of what it means to bring poetry into the lives of all those we know. There is a particular generosity in this book: one of personal experiences, yes, but also the hesitations all writers feel to show their lives in writing. You will find beginnings here (even a notebook page of first thoughts) that will inspire you to write. You will find lesson plans already worn and weathered by use in classrooms. Do not turn from the gift of Words that Mend: you need it more than you might think you do.”

~Penny Kittle, author Write Beside Them, Book Love, and Micro Mentor Texts

Words that Mend is now available for purchase on Amazon (for printing cost only) and a free pdf download on Ethical ELA here.

Sarah Donovan, Oklahoma State University, curator of Ethical ELA tells our story on YouTube:

We will have an online event at 2:00PM CST on September 22nd to celebrate and write together. Stay tuned!

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Susan at Chicken Spaghetti.

A few weeks ago I received an email from Laura Shovan introducing me to a new poetry form, the Pythagorean Poem created by middle grade author Shari Green. For anyone who loves a good challenging form, this is for you. I haven’t tried it with my students…Yet.

Similar to a Fibonacci poem, the form is based on a mathematical truth, the Pythagorean theorem. This theorem for you non-math nerds like me is the rule for a right triangle:

a^2 + b^2 = c^2

Shari took this rule to a poetry level: Using the triple, the poetic form works like this:

1st stanza: 3 lines of 3 words each

2nd stanza: 4 lines of 4 words each

3rd stanza: 5 lines of 5 words each*

* The third stanza must be composed of all the words found in stanzas one and two (in any order; variations okay). The third stanza should be a progression of sorts, a product of the first two in thought or theme or meaning.

I think you could change the numbers of a and b, but the final stanza must use a combination of words from the first two stanzas.

In my classroom and at home, I am keeping caterpillars in safe enclosures. The caterpillars are Gulf fritillaries that hatch and feed on passion vine. I tried this topic for my first ever Pythagorean Poem.

Hidden in wood
chrysalis of safety
rest for weary

hardworking caterpillars climb
munching passion vine leaves
grow longer each day
prepare for enclosed transformation

Passion caterpillars grow, prepare for
weary rest enclosed in safety.
Each hardworking, munching vine leaves.
Climb into wood-hidden chrysalis–
Transformation for longer days.

Margaret Simon, draft

Photo by Brian Forsyth on Pexels.com


Chimney Swifts at Sunset, by Margaret Simon

Every evening after dinner, my husband and I take the puppy out for a walk. Last night my gaze was up at the sky watching small birds circle and swoop above us. I opened my Merlin bird identification app and found they were chimney swifts.

The sun was setting and coloring the clouds a deep purple and pink. After a few attempts, I captured some of these “swift” birds against the canvas of the sky.

Write a small poem today inspired by this photo. Please share it with us in the comments and respond to other writers. Thanks for being here.

A Swift Fib

Small
swifts
circle
purple sky
speckling the evening
with dazzling twittering delight
@Margaret Simon, draft

A fib poem has a syllable count that follows the Fibonacci series (1,1,2,3,5,8…)

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Rose Cappelli at Imagine the Possibilities.

This week was my second week of teaching this school year. We are settling into the routine. My classroom door revolves all day long with incoming and outgoing students. Nevertheless, I am establishing some routines. One of the expectations each week is “This Photo Wants to be a Poem.” On Wednesdays I post a photo here on my blog, but I also post it on our Fanschool site.

My friend Dani Burtsfield is a teacher in Kallispell, Montana. Last week she hosted poet Allan Wolf for her annual reading conference. She took Allan on a hike that she had taken me on a few years ago, so she sent pictures of them. I was wishing I could teleport and be with them, especially since our temperatures are well into the 90’s these days. If you know Allan and his poetry presentations, you know how he creates fun wherever he goes. Dani sent me some pictures.

Allan Wolf photo by Dani Burtsfield

On my students’ blog, I post my own poem as a model, and each student writes their own poem in response. One of my new students is a second grader. I taught her how to write a haiku. First we collected words. Then she spoke lines using the words. We counted syllables. I think she was pleased with her poem.

Crystal clear water
you can see mountains through it
beautiful blue lake

by Danielle, 2nd grade

Avalyn, now in 5th grade, wrote similes and used repetition. It amazes me how seemingly simple poetic elements can work together to become a beautiful poem.

Like an oversized crystal
it falls
Like the morning mist
it falls
Like a Maiden priestess
it falls
Like an opal river
it falls
by Avalyn , 5th grade

The final example I want to share made me laugh. Kailyn wrote from the perspective of the waterfall itself.

I love spitting on people,
it’s just the way I flow.
Paparazzi all around me,
trees for hair.
My life has been a sequel,
the water in me loves to go, go, go!
I can just relax and be lazy.
If you visit me, you might want to watch what you wear..
by Kailyn, 6th grade

Dani, Allan, and Randy at Virginia Falls in Glacier Park, Montana.