Last week this lily appeared at my back door. I vaguely remember a neighbor giving me some bulbs, but I planted them ages ago. When I placed my Google lens on this flower, surprise lily came up as one of many names. It’s also known as spider lily and naked lady. Today in my poem I am focused on the surprise.
Surprise! a ribbon burst from soil on a stemmed gift lily
Margaret Simon, draft
Please leave a small poem in the comments and encourage other writers with your response.
Queensferry Crossing over the Firth of Forth, Edinburgh, Scotland
I’m still dreaming of Scotland. This photo was taken from the bus window, so it’s not super clear, but I like how the sun beams down on the modern bridge. Imagine up ahead is the old town of Edinburgh. Scotland was a study in the modern and the ancient alongside each other.
On our return home, I went back to my genealogy to find that I have ancestors from Scotland.
Today I’m turning to the elfchen (or elevenie) form.
Bridge carries across Firth of Forth Travelers of time to Ancestors
Margaret Simon, draft
Please write a small poem in the comments and respond to other writers.
Here in the deep south, live oak trees are iconic. This root is old and has emerged over time from the ground. I took notice of its unique design. As no two humans are exactly the same, I imagine trees have their own personalities, too.
I started the year 2024 with writing daily elfchen. For this Advent season, I’ve picked up the form again. Here are the rules:
Grounded Roots revealed Begging us hear The true language of Connection Margaret Simon, draft
Join me today in writing to this photo prompt. Come back to offer encouragement to other writers.
Molly Hogan captured this funny photo on a recent outing into the marsh in Maine. I love how she captured the reflection as well. These shorebirds are called yellowlegs for the obvious reason that they have yellow legs, but I think watching them skitter along the shore would bring a smile to anyone’s face.
Let this photo be your muse this morning as we get closer to slower, beach-filled days of summer. I welcome the extra time, but not the heat. Our temperatures in the south are already inching up to 90 degrees. Leave a small poem in the comments.
I’m back to my daily elfchen practice. A reminder of the form: eleven words, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1. The first word introduces the topic, the second tells what it does, the third where it is, and the fourth how it makes you feel (I go for a metaphor in this line), ending with a word of transformation from the first word.
Yellowlegs toothpick race across sandy marsh. No one wins a prize– Solidarity.
Day two of the Kidlit Progressive Poem is with Jone today.
This National Poetry Month, I am writing word poems using random words that come into my life.
I’m taking care of my 4 year old grandson while his mother is on a work trip. Today’s elfchen is playing with the word shambles.
Shambles Elfchen
Shambles of toys on Mamere’s floor a kingdom of pretend Lightstep
Margaret Simon, draft NPM 24
I’m also following Ethical ELA prompts. Today’s prompt “The Magic Box” was an interesting practice in synectics, combining words together that normally would not be connected. The intent was to release some of the insecurity in writing, loosen our muscles so to speak.
Whistle While you Walk
Wisteria hangs like lavender bubbles marching across the dog-ditch. Like a child, blossoms whisper, “I exist to please you.”
We are all monster trucks traveling through construction, a long and dusty road.
Take me on a spring walk, blow a dandelion–a train whistle to the wild world.
This week the weather has turned to rain, rain, rain. The fog is hovering. Humidity high. Winter blues making me down. But then there is poetry.
Poetry saves me. I am empowered and energized by having written something. Every day, no matter the weather, I can write a poem.
Elfchen has been my go-to form. I’m writing a few everyday. It’s such a nice compact form that can contain all of my emotions and balance my mood. Here’s one from my notebook.
January 25, 2024 Truth comes in times of silence contemplating the thrumming rain Presence.
Margaret Simon, 1/25/24 draft
I’ve signed up for The Stafford Challenge which is basically a commitment to write daily as William Stafford did. Here’s a poem about wanting to sleep in. It makes me smile.
You Do Not Have to be Good* (*Mary Oliver “Wild Geese”)
You do not have to wake at 4 AM to feed the cats mewing at the back door. Cats are survivors.
Turn over, go back to sleep– the most delicious sleep comes in the wee hours of the morning in the whisper of the heater under the warm blanket his breathing, slow and steady.
Stretch your cramping foot. Discuss with yourself how the day will go if you just sleep a little more.
Dream, perhaps, in this liminal space of sacred meditation. Lie with yourself; Tell her to calm down. The cats can wait.
Margaret Simon, draft
How is your January going? Doesn’t it feel like such a long month? I hope you are writing yourself through it. And staying warm.
In the new year, I’ve returned to a daily notebook practice with my students. Little did I know the Stafford Challenge would appear and reaffirm my commitment. I adopted this practice years ago after an NCTE panel I coordinated which included Naomi Shihab Nye. We talked about William Stafford’s daily writing, and I adapted the steps to fit with my young students. For whatever reason (maybe Covid) I haven’t been leading my students to write daily in their notebooks. Now I’m reminded of the importance of a daily writing practice. These first few days of the Stafford Challenge, I have opened up more and more on the blank page and worried less about perfection.
Notebook page on Thursday, our first day of school all week.
Our notebook steps:
Date
Quote
What’s Up
Poem-ish
Pretend Play Elfchen
Pretend no script Play echoes life. Their light, my delight –Shine!
Have you ever had a form attach itself to you and beg you for a daily poem? I’ve hoped for a daily haiku to come to me for years now. I’ve tried it on, and some days it fits just fine, but I’ve recently felt a tug toward elfchen which is a similar form to a cinquain. Five lines. However, in an elfchen (elevenie, in English) there are more specific directions that stretch the form to a higher problem-solving level, a level of Flow for me, not too hard, not too easy.
On Tuesday, I wrote about beginning this new year with a practice of notebooking with my students. I shared an elfchen there.
Do you read The Marginalian? I highly recommend it as a weekly practice. Maria Popova sends a newsletter each Sunday, and it never fails to inspire me. This is a found elfchen from Jan. 7, 2024.
Attention high degree be as prayer gravity in acts of Love
Margaret Simon, found in The Marginalian
“Perhaps this spiritual dimension of love stems from a simple equivalence: At its core, love is the quality of attention we confer upon another; and as Simone Weil observed in her timeless meditation on the nature of grace, “attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer.” All of love’s gravity and all of its grace are found in our acts of attention.” Love and the Sacred–The Marginalian.
Have you started a new poetry practice? What commitment to writing have you made?
Back to school after winter break I noticed my student’s backpack and his surfeit supply of pencils and clean, pointy eraser heads. He was prepared! I’m not sure this arrangement with his initials on each pencil and eraser was done by him, his mother, or his grandmother, but it made me chuckle and think back to the days of raising my children. They were lucky to find clean clothes to wear.
I admire anyone who can be this organized. I struggle with being organized. It’s a goal for every year, and every year I fail. What does this photo recall for you? Please leave a small poem in the comments and encourage other writers with your responses.
Pencils stand ready for another year of thinking, writing, erasing Surfeit*
Instead of Christmas presents, we gave our children and their families a house in the Appalachian mountains of North Georgia. This is a view of the house from the lake below. I don’t think I could have picked a more perfect spot. Today it becomes an image for inspiration. You may focus on the green moss on the log, the act of looking up, or the idea of a perfect place to rest. Happy New Year! I hope it brings you joy and renewal.
I am still ruminating on my One Little Word for 2024. It may or may not be the word at the end of this poem. I’ve been having fun playing with the elfchen (elevenie) form. The basis is 1 word, 2 words, 3 words, 4 words, 1 word. The magic of the form seems to happen when writing about the first word leads to a conclusion in the last word.
Tomorrow I will host Spiritual Thursday. We are writing about our One Little Word choices. Please join us.
Mountain House
Wood chopped, stacked the fire pit where secrets are shared– Connection
Margaret Simon lives on the Bayou Teche in New Iberia, Louisiana. She teaches gifted elementary students, writes poetry and children's books. Welcome to a space of peace, poetry, and personal reflection. Walk in kindness.