What is the greatest gift a poetry teacher can ever hope for? A student who keeps writing poetry, even though you are no longer teaching her. You may remember my student Chloe. She’s now in 7th grade and attending another school, but last week she sent me a poem. She told me that she was in Thibodeaux, LA for a gymnastics meet. Her father went to college in the town and showed her the route to where he had lived. He asked her to write a poem about it. And what father do you know encourages the poet-daughter? I was charmed, of course, and asked if I could post her poem here. Please leave encouraging comments for Chloe.
Thibodeaux Turns
Extravagant land that turns your world
The world that grew with you
That rested with you
That prayed with you
Never felt alone with this land
These bodies of water mark journeys in our lives
And heart
And minds
Traveling tree roots that build our homes and house animals that feed us
This air that circulates our bodies and arms and legs
Blowing away our doubts and fears
Bringing us to our pot of gold at the end of our Louisiana adventures
Our sugar cane grounds desperately reaching for the water we provide
Did you see the moon last week? The Full Wolf Moon came out on January 6, the 12th night of Christmas. I was struck by a photo from Jone MacCulloch on Instagram. Like Jone, I was taking an early morning walk and tried to capture it with my phone. She used an iPhone 13. They seem to improve the camera feature on every new phone.
When I asked Jone about the photograph, she wrote, “Every morning I take the dog out sometime between 6:30- 7:30 ( when he gets up. I’m always the first up). This was last Friday. I used an IPhone 13. The moon was setting and one thing that struck me was how it is now more northerly in the sky.”
Can you follow your moon muse and write a small poem? Share in the comments and write encouraging comments to other writers.
Full Wolf Moon by Jone MacCulloch
The moon glows in harmony with the sun– a perfect reflection of peace.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
All we have are these moments: the golden trees, the industrious bees, the falling light. Darkness will not overtake us.
Barbara Crooker, “Poem with an Embedded Line by Susan Cohen”
My One Little Word for 2023 is Purpose. I am trying to purposefully capture small moments and hold them close. My dog Charlie is near the end of his life. He is 15. He sleeps most of the day. But he still gets excited about treats.
We were having a rainy day. I heard the rain, but it didn’t register that I had let Charlie out in the side yard. I don’t know what made me remember. Perhaps it was his slight scratch at the door. Or the boom of thunder. He is usually afraid of thunder.
I opened the door and Charlie ran in, soaking wet. I grabbed a towel and sat down on the floor. He ran into my arms and let me rustle him around in the towel. Then he’d run away and turn around, back into the towel, rub rub rub, shake, shake, off he ran again. He did this a few times. I was giggling hard.
It’s a new year for Poetry Friday, so I created a logo using a photo from Henry Cancienne. Henry was the photographer for my book of poems, Bayou Song, and he recently emailed me a slew of photographs with permission to use them on Reflections on the Teche. Thanks, Henry.
Today is the first Friday, so the Inklings have a challenge. Heidi Mordhorst challenged us this month to write about #change. When we met on Sunday, everyone had had a full holiday with little time to write, so rather than critique, we created an exquisite corpse poem together. Each person wrote a line and sent it to the next person on a private chat message. After we had each had a chance to respond with a line, we shared the whole thread. Mary Lee was the experienced one at this process, so she placed the results in a Google doc with the instructions that we could manipulate the lines to create our own poem.
I drew bubbles in my notebook and placed each line inside a bubble to give myself the freedom to move around and play with the words and phrases. I like what I have for now. It was a fun exercise. I can’t wait to see what my other Inklings did with the original poem. Here is mine:
#Change (like the wind)
The wind unwinds us day by day shifting clouds, shining light, casting shadows.
When we choose to wander, submit like leaves on the forest floor and understand without challenging the direction of the wind, we can walk where steps and stones still lie.
Margaret Simon (with Mary Lee Hahn, Molly Hogan, Heidi Mordhorst, Catherine Flynn, and Linda Mitchell)
Book Announcement: Along with many of my Poetry Friday friends, I have poems in the just released “Two Truths and a Fib” anthology from Bridget Magee. I wrote about bubbles. I’m excited to be a part of such a fun collection. Check it out!
Grab the 2023 Spiritual Journey image for your blog posts. Image by Henry Cancienne.
Do you select a One Little Word for the year? For years, I’ve been choosing a single word to guide my spiritual journey. Last year’s word was Enough. This word kept me in check. Whenever I questioned myself, I remembered “You are enough.” But as 2023 approached, I thought I wanted a more active word. I follow my good friend’s daughter on Instagram. Faith Broussard Cade has become an influencer under the name Fleur de lis Speaks. I clipped this recent post:
My new word for 2023 is Purpose.
What is my purpose?
Does this activity fit with my purpose?
Can I live each day with purpose?
I have been having mixed feelings about the word, so I talked it over with a friend. She offered me the wisdom that my purpose is with God, to bless others with my own faith.
My daughter got an oracle deck for Christmas. She said, “Just for fun, ask the oracle a question and pick a card.”
I kept the question to myself, but the card I picked was “Dancing Spirit” with a beautiful butterfly as the image. The main tenants were “Honoring Oneself”
*Build self-esteem
*Feeling the sweetness of life
* Sharing your inner light in a centered way.
I believe that purpose will continue to show up in my life. Funny how that happens.
I love to share the practice of choosing a word with students. I found some word beads and elastic string at Target, so my students each chose a word and I made them a bracelet.
Students share their one little word bracelets.
I asked them to write a post about their words by choosing a quote and writing about what the word means to them and why they chose it. It’s a fun way to greet the new year.
Happy New Year and Welcome to This Photo Wants to be a Poem. Let the muse take you away for a few minutes to the swamp of Louisiana where Spanish Moss drapes from trees. This week I am using a photo from photographer Henry Cancienne who head out to shoot photos on New Year’s Day when the weather was misty and warm (balmy). Henry’s photographs are featured in my book Bayou Song: Explorations of the South Louisiana Landscape.
Henry takes pictures of both flora and fauna of South Louisiana. Let this photo help you create a small new year poem (perhaps your first of 2023; it is mine). Share your poem in the comments and write encouraging responses to other writers.
Mossy branch by Henry Cancienne.
Swamp fairies sprinkled dewdrops to wake up the forest. The new year was yawning.
Welcome back to This Photo Wants to be a Poem, a weekly writing prompt that I borrowed from Laura Purdie Salas’s Fifteen Words or Less. I was not here last week, so Linda Mitchell took the reins with a beautiful photo from Amanda Watts. I was busy last week with the arrival of my 4th grandchild, June Margaret. You can read about that experience here.
On Christmas Day, my husband and I were separated for the first Christmas in 40 years. He traveled to New Orleans on Christmas Day to meet his new grandchild and have a bowl of gumbo. Baby June is a big baby, and her fingers are long. I marveled at them as Jeff (Papère) held her tiny hand. This is a more personal image than I usually post. Forgive me, I’m smitten.
Papère’s Hand
Christmas package wrapped in tiny fingers perfectly peaceful
Margaret Simon, draft
Take a peaceful moment for yourself to write, remember, marvel and share. If you are able, write an encouraging comment for other writers.
Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.
June Margaret and mother Martha
I was prepared for this to be a different Christmas. My youngest daughter’s first child was due on Dec. 19th, so I took off the 19th and 20th and drove to her home to be with her and her husband. She had a scheduled induction on Tuesday, Dec. 20th. I will not go into the details of the whole process, but Martha handled the long labor like a champ. When at 11:30 PM, she was ready to push, my middle daughter turned to me and pointed to her watch. We realized that the baby would be born on her great grandfather’s birthday. She came into the world at 12:39 on Dec. 21st.
My first look at this new baby girl confirmed our suspicions that she would be a big baby. She even had jelly rolls on her legs. Later we found out she weighed 9 lbs. 5 oz.!
Martha and Paul did not reveal her name until she was born. I anxiously waited while Martha said she needed to hold her before she would name her. With the baby in her arms, she turned to me and said, “Her name is June Margaret.” My heart melted.
Margaret is a name that was given to me by my mother to honor her mother who passed away 3 months before I was born. I’ve always thought of my grandmother Margaret as a guardian angel. We named our first daughter Margaret and call her Maggie. When Maggie didn’t use the name for her daughter, I thought that was the end of the line. I never imagined that Martha would choose it. Once Martha knew she was having a girl, she told us that the baby’s name was one syllable. That put me into a rabbit hole of one syllable girl names. June never appeared on my list. And neither did Margaret.
I know Baby June will grow into her name and give it her own personality. The legacy of Margaret is with her. But even without the gift of the name, this child is in my heart.
While she was being born, we played Martha’s Christmas playlist. One of the songs was “Breath of Heaven” by Amy Grant. In that moment, all was quiet. I looked over at the doctor, a small petite woman, who was swaying back and forth as I was. We felt the presence of God in the room. Birth is a holy moment.
One hymn that has been playing in my head was featured in Presiding Bishop Michael Curry’s Christmas message: “Love came down at Christmas. Love all lovely. Love divine. Love was born at Christmas. Star and angel gave the sign. Love came down at Christmas.”
June Margaret is a Christmas miracle. She is love divine. She is a pure angel.
I attended Christmas Eve service at Christ Cathedral in New Orleans. In her first Christmas message as bishop of Louisiana, Bishop Shannon Rogers Duckworth told us to embrace the small moments. I pray this first Christmas with June will stay with me as one of those gems, the small moment of holding pure love and being a witness to the love of my daughter with her husband and their new not-so-tiny newborn.
Breath of Heaven
A winter solstice A holy birth Total darkness shines with June light.
I read somewhere that the earliest sunset is on December 13th. Did you think, like me, that it would be on Winter Solstice Dec. 21st? After carpool duty, I was walking to my car and saw this beautiful ray of sunlight peeking through the clouds. I noticed the sun was lower in the sky. My school is situated out in the country among sugarcane fields. This single horse only recently appeared in the field next door. At the end of a long day, this scene brought me peace.
Jefferson Island Road
Winter sun slyly slips lower in the sky beckoning me to slow down and be still.
Margaret Simon, draft
Write a small poem in the comments and support other writers with encouraging words. Thanks for stopping by.
For the Christmas season, I have decorated my classroom doors (I service 2 schools) with a Christmas tree, but they’re not typical Christmas trees. They’re Grati-ku Poet-trees. Each day since Thanksgiving break, my students and I write a gratitude poem on a paper ornament.
Our Grati-ku Poet-Tree
We are reading daily Santa Clauses (a book of haiku written by the man himself) by Bob Raczka. These poems are inspirational to us and help us see the different ways to create a haiku poem. A complete sentence, a metaphor, a moment in time.
Japanese poems Santa Claus inspiration I write haiku, too.
by Avalyn, 3rd grade
Avalyn wanted to invite some teachers to write poems, too, so she asked the speech therapist whose classroom is adjacent to ours to play along. (She calls it a “haiku party”.) Kim wrote:
A burnt string of lights one bulb out, they all go out. To the store I go!
By Kim Degeyter
School spirit is everywhere this season as students and teachers participate in dress-up days. I wrote a grati-ku about this:
Reindeer headbands on little girls’ heads bouncing down Holiday hallway
Margaret Simon
Other teachers join in the fun!
You should join the fun. Write a grati-ku holiday inspired poem in the comments. I’d love to share them with my students.
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 