Last Friday and into the beginning of this week, my students worked on heart maps inspired by Georgia Heard. To see their “maps” and poems, see this post.
I wrote an epistolary poem to the violin. Inspiration flowed when playing Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. The violin is my favorite instrument. My grandmother was a violinist, though I never heard her play. When Jeff and I hear Cajun music, my favorites are the waltzes with dual fiddles. The instrument is universal to all kinds of music. In the poem, I used my One Little Word Still.
I have left a card on the kitchen counter for my husband. We’re in our 43rd year of marriage. I am blessed with long love. Here is the note (poem) I wrote for him.
Acknowledgement
“Acknowledge the many ways in which your life and relationships are good.” Enneathought of the Day 1/17/25
Life is good. I don’t have to sit on the floor for hours talking so you will understand, but I would and so would you.
Even in the silence of making the bed, we hold each other.
We can laugh at a photo and bring it up later with only a word; giggles rumble like rainbow bubbles between us.
We are not One. We are Two dancing a waltz of life-is-good together.
Margaret Simon, draft
Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope your heart is full. Take a peek at Carol Varsalona’s padlet. A few of my students are featured there.
Molly Hogan doesn’t mind cold fingers. She takes amazing pictures around her home in Maine. She posted this one of a male cardinal all puffed up for the cold. The contrast of red on white makes the cardinal stand out. Recently I witnessed a cardinal couple in the fruit tree. The male was on the lookout while the female fed on the ground. It’s sweet how they care of one another.
This is the week we celebrate love with Valentine’s Day. I am sharing a zeno (8, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1) for the cardinal which symbolizes many things.
Hope and Renewal: The vibrant red plumage of male cardinals is often associated with vitality, strength, and renewal. Their presence can symbolize hope and the promise of new beginnings, particularly during challenging times.Love and Relationships: Cardinals are known for forming strong and lasting pair bonds. Because of this, they are sometimes seen as symbols of devotion, loyalty, and the deep connections found in romantic relationships and partnerships.(from the birdhouse.ca)
Use any form that works for you and leave a small poem in the comments. Be sure to spread poetry love with comments for others.
Cardinal Zeno
Filling the frozen bird feeder cardinal spy waits for seeds tweets out his call while Mom feeds affectionate bird heart freed. 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 subscribe to Georgia Heard’s Heart map newsletter, Heartbeats. Last week she inspired me to use her print outs with my students on Poetry Friday.
We usually analyze a poem and write in the form of the poet or steal a line, etc. But on Friday, after the AR dance, we needed a break. I turned on Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. My students spread around the room and played with paper. I was surprised at how focused they became on a Friday!
We’ve returned to our heart maps to write poems from them. Some wrote as Georgia suggested, a letter poem to the thing you love most. Some wrote a poem like Danusha Laméris’s poem The Heart is Not.
James’s heart map
Dear pillow,
You comfort My head Every night And Keep me warm Until It is morning Where the sun Rises. When I go to school I miss you Because You’re my Object with a story. James, 4th grade
Marifaye’s Heart Map
I love how Marifaye took the map idea to a literal design making her heart look like a map. I sent this one to Georgia through Instagram. Marifaye wrote about her cat Carson. I feel partial to this poem because I was involved in matchmaking Marifaye to Carson. Carson was a stray kitten in my mother-in-law’s yard this summer. He was fostered by my friend Corrine. Then Marifaye’s family adopted him. He has found a soft place to land.
My Cat Carson:
How I love you so so much makes me smile every touch you make me happy when I’m sad hearing you purr and watching your tail flap hearing you meow, begging for pets then you take off, as fast as a jet. as soon as someone comes get me I just can’t wait to see my baby my baby cat, Carson. Marifaye, 5th grade
My messy heart map with letter poem draft.
Avalyn was drawn to the model poem by Danusha Laméris.
The Heart is Not
a bowl it’s not something you could just place your thoughts, emotions, memories in until it overflows.
The heart is not a bowl it’s not something you could just discard
The heart is not a bowl it’s not just a pretty decoration. Avalyn, 5th grade
On the first Friday of the month, Inklings (my trusty writing group) respond to a challenge. Mary Lee made it easy this month. She asked us to type a color into the public domain image archive and find a photo to write about. I chose lilac. I immediately got a photo I knew was telling a story. I imagined that Lilas and the bug are having a conversation.
“Unhappy the man who never had his eyes fill with tears at the sight of a particular flower. Such a one can have been neither a child nor a youth. He can have had neither mother, sister, nor affianced bride. He never loved.” This is the tone and tenor throughout Les Fleurs animées (The Flowers personified), a collection of floral — and sometimes florid — writing, featuring playful illustrations by J. J. Grandville (1803–1847), engraved and hand-colored by Charles Michel Geoffroy.
How Lilas Learns of Love (a cherita)
With draping lilacs for long locks,
Lilas questions Sir Ladybug, “Where will my love grow?”
Love grows from a starter seed planted small in your heart until with wisdom, grace, and tender care…Blooms!
Spiritual Journey first Thursday is gathered by Bob Hamera.
Bob suggested we ponder the idea that doors may close while another one opens, how focusing on the closed door may lead us to miss the open one. My father spoke about this in his firm belief that there is always a resurrection. Jesus showed us in a very real sense that when someone dies, it is not the end. I’ve always prided myself on a belief in the resurrection; however, when faced with an actual closed door, a death of something in my life that I put my trust in, whether it be a job, a friendship, a manuscript, I get lost and lonely and question. That is the rough part of the death/resurrection story arc.
I am following a path to a new journey to retirement. This is a door I’ve chosen, but even so, I have mixed feelings. So many of my days with my students are good, happy, and fulfilling. I will miss teaching, I know. I also know I’m a teacher through and through. I chose this career when I was 15 years old. I will find ways to still be a teacher. I keep telling myself this truth, but it’s not easy. When I tell people I’m retiring, I hear “Congratulations!” I wish I could feel excited. Is it the closed door I fear? Or the open one I’m unsure about?
Resurrection fern is grey when the sun is out, but turns to bright green after the rain. May God bless us with the knowledge and grit to survive the grey and thrive again after the rain.
With Toto in her arms, Dorothy clicked her heals and repeated “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.”
Brainstorm your thoughts around the word home. You may use Dorothy’s iconic words as a title. Or describe a place in your life that feels like home.
I used a form created by J. Patrick Lewis called the zeno based on a numerical sequence for syllable count: 8, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1, 4, 2, 1 in which each one syllable line rhymes. For more examples, I found this 2014 post from Today’s Little Ditty.
Snow transformed home to wonderland, silent ocean of white flakes reminding us climate wakes imagine us safe from snakes.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
In the book “90 Ways of Community”, Kim Johnson writes about a quirky family tradition of hiding a Where’s Waldo figurine around the house for others to find. We all have quirky traditions. I thought about a quirky tradition we have in my classroom. I decided to use a haibun form.
I remember the day that Chloe wrapped the tail of Jack-the-lemur, a class plushie, around the bars of her chair and left him there for other students to find. From then on, magically around the first of December, Jack comes alive. He travels each day to a new space–hanging on the American flag, digging in the mailbox of origami figures, even riding a cardboard prothonotary warbler hanging from the ceiling. Where will he go next? Years later, my students wait for this month of wonder.
Who needs elf-on-the-shelf when there’s Jack-the-lemur? Quirky classroom fun.
I don’t often join the Poetry Sisters challenge, but I felt this month’s was within my reach: a tanku which is a tanka in conversation with a haiku. I recently attended a workshop, Write Bites with Georgia Heard and Ralph Fletcher. Georgia’s writing prompt was to write about a word. One suggestion she had was to have a conversation with the word. That draft led me to create a tanku around one of my two words for this year.
Believe
What do I believe? Remove my rear view finder Need a reminder– blinders to understanding, “I don’t believe you heard me.”
I say to the wind; It says, “I believe in you. That’s true, you will see.”
Happy New Year! Today is the Chinese New Year and this year, 2025, is the year of the snake. I am totally afraid of snakes. I even find it hard to touch a photo of a snake. But this year I’m trying on a new skin, a more brave stance toward the scaly beasts. What are they good for?
At a recent art show, I saw this sculpture from nature. Can you find the snake skin? It is fascinating that snakes get to shed their skin in order to grow and change. Snakes symbolize transformation and creativity. How can we as humans “take off our skin” and begin again?
I was reminded of the cherita form in a post yesterday and wanted to offer it for today’s writing prompt. Simply put, a cherita tells a short story in stanzas of one line, two lines, and three lines.
What are your hopes for 2025? What skin do you need to leave behind? Explore with me in a small poem.
Hidden in a bramble of dried prairie grass
A single snake skin looms empty, translucent, urging me
To believe* in the possibility of creative transformation and strength. by 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.
As I was driving to school this morning, I wondered if the snow we had last week was all part of a dream. Every time I saw something white, I turned my head. Is it snow? No, there are still white sheets covering plants (ghosts of snowmen) and litter of white plastic (ghosts of snow drifts). But our temperatures are back to normal southern winter, 40-60 degrees, and there are few signs that last week we were covered in snow.
My students were so eager to write about their experience last week, a historic snowstorm. Most reminisced about the snow-people they built. Some wrote a Slice of Life without my prompting. I spoke with a colleague whose students were similarly inspired to write.
Kailyn described her snow-person: “Let’s talk about what my snow woman was made out of. Her eyes were flowers from my mom’s office, her nose was obviously a carrot, and her lips were a jelly belly sour pucker lip. She wore a Mardi Gras scarf, quickly changed to a light up necklace along with a coffee cup in her hand. We stuck a branch of leaves in her head for hair.”
Carson’s mother sent me a photo of him making a snow angel.
Carson, 3rd grade, makes his first ever snow angel.
James, 4th grade, wrote an I am From poem about a photo I posted of a Cajun Snowman.
I am from The winter breeze I am from wearing jackets I am from The chilly snow I am from Drinking hot chocolate I am from Making snowmen
I encouraged my grandson, Leo, to create a journal page about the experiences we had together. His writing is coming along, but most of all, I’m excited that this is something we can do together. You have to love his signature.
I hope all of our children remember this experience, but we know it will fade, as the snow has faded. I decided to create a photobook for our family. No one seems to do photo albums anymore, so with a photobook, I can remember alongside my grandchildren, who are probably too young to remember. Maybe they will. The magical wonderland of Narnia. Our own time warp through the wardrobe.
Author Phil Russotti with his granddaughter Stella.
Phil Russotti sent me copies of his 3 Stella books because I am the grandmother of a girl named Stella. It was quite a coincidence to find out while reading his books that his character, Stella, has a brother named Leo. How can that be? When I read the books to Stella, my 4 year old granddaughter, she decided to change all the names to match her friends’ names. I think she believed the story was about her. And why not? In the books, the character Stella does all kinds of magical and fun things with her family, friends, and magic wand. She can even fly on her pet bluebird. The books are full of fun fantasy. My Stella feels special that she has books with her name in it.
Phil co-wrote the books with his granddaughter. I imagine doing that someday with my grandson, Leo, who is becoming quite the artist. This grandfather/granddaughter duo took the extra hard step to publication. I was curious about the process, so I sent Phil some questions.
Tell us about the book:
The first book “Stella in Paris” was conceived by Stella and myself during the Pandemic. We were living together for safety reasons when one day Stella said to me, “Grandpa I was thinking that I went to the top of the Eiffel Tower and waved my Magic Wand and the virus went away all over the World. “
I said that was a wonderful thought and a great idea for a story and we started developing the book. It was her idea that she got the Magic Wand from the Tooth Fairy and that she flew to the top of the Eiffel Tower on her pet bird, Mr. Tweet Tweet, her trusted companion. We then decided that Stella could do more helpful things and conceived of the London and New York books.
Why did you write it?
Stella’s initial idea was born out of her reaction of fear and incomprehension of what was happening with the spreading virus. Which I assume all children had. But her solution had a positive and powerful message of empowerment that I realized could serve as a lesson for young girls that they could conquer any problem if they put their minds to it. We then ventured to other locales to show how a young girl could solve problems all by herself and help people.
Tell us about the writing process or collaboration. Did you discover anything new about yourself as a writer?
The collaborative process was accomplished by me coming up with the basic story (ie. saving a whale that got caught in the River Thames) and asking Stella questions to which she supplied the answers to flush out the story. Such as “Where should the next book be based?” and she came up with London. I asked why would she go to London and she said that once the pandemic was over, people would want to travel, and it would be natural for someone in Paris to travel to London. So she went to London to meet new friends. When I asked if she took the Chunnel from Paris to London, she said, “No, I would go with Mr. Tweet Tweet.” We just proceeded from there, question by question and she filled in the details.
I discovered that I could engage in fiction writing, which is something I had never done, and in fact, I didn’t read fiction. It was a growing experience for me to help create stories.
Who was the book written for?
The books are written for young girls to see how powerful they can be and how they can solve any problem they put their minds to. They are books of empowerment.
Could you share an example or excerpt for the audience?
In London when the whale inadvertently broke her Magic Wand, Stella had to figure out how to fix it. She came up with asking another woman, the Queen of England. When she met the Queen, she bowed and then said, “You’re welcome, but please Your Majesty can you fix my Magic Wand?” The Queen exclaimed ,”I’d be happy to”, and told Stella to hold the pieces together. The Queen then picked up her giant scepter and waved it over the wand saying, “Whippety, whoopity, whopp, Wand Wand come together!” and the wand was fixed better than ever. Two women solving the big problem together!
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She is a retired elementary gifted teacher who writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.
Reflections on the Teche 