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Posts Tagged ‘#smallpoems’

This Photo Wants to be a Poem: The Path

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , , , , , on July 30, 2025| 7 Comments »

Photo card from Molly Hogan

I am feeling uninspired, tired, and sad. Yesterday a dear friend died. Just last week she sent me a sweet card giving me sage advice about the death of my mother.

“I’m sure your emotions must rotate from one to another. I don’t need to remind you to take care of yourself. Sending you positive energy and caring thoughts.” Betty LeBlanc

I’m trying, Betty.

This card featured today came from my Inkling friend Molly Hogan. I’d also like to share a poem that another Inkling, Mary Lee Hahn wrote for me:

And if the darkness is not
a hallway, perhaps it’s
a bridge
a reflection
an eye into your soul
or into the mystery
that comes at the end of a day
or a life.
Mary Lee

If you are so moved, write a poem in the comments and encourage other writers with your comments. Thanks for walking by.

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Poetry Friday: Tiny Letters

Posted in Poetry, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged , , , , on July 18, 2025| 15 Comments »

Today’s roundup is hosted by Jan Annino at Bookseedstudio.

My well has been running dry lately. I could use the excuses that I’ve had a lot on my plate, but the real answer is I haven’t felt much like writing.

When I get this way, it helps to turn to poetry prompts. Georgia Heard sent out a monthly newsletter with a calendar inviting us to write daily tiny letters.

Today, to make myself accountable, I will share two of them from my notebook.

Dear Breath,
Find my sorrow.
Lift it up.
Draw from within
a purple flower
a single petal
remembering
how to bloom.

Margaret Simon, draft

My butterfly garden is overflowing with passion vine waiting for the Gulf Fritilary butterflies.

Dear Voice,
From your hiding place,
come home.
Give me strength
to know when to say no,
when to say yes.
Be there as a guide
when silence
grates on my nerves
like the rain
clanking through the drain.
Wake up, oh voice of mind.
Find my comfort zone.
Come home.

Margaret Simon, draft

Angel Trumpet (New Orleans)

If you are not familiar with poet Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, I have found her poems uplifting and accessible. I signed up for a poetry class with her that begins next week. I am hopeful she will put me back in touch with my own voice. She has released an album of spoken word. This amazing and uplifting poem is included. Take a moment to listen.

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Fingers and Toes

Posted in being mamére, Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , , , , on July 16, 2025| 3 Comments »

Baby Sam’s footprints
Baby Sam’s fingers holding Mamére’s finger.

This week’s photos may be a bit selfish on my part. I hope you can find a way into writing from your own life. Leave a poem in the comments and respond to other writers.

Two weeks ago my youngest daughter gave birth to my youngest grandchild, Sam. He is absolutely perfect. I marveled at him for days. All his tiny parts, especially his long fingers and his tiny toes. Two of his toes are webbed.

I can’t really write anything that isn’t sappy, but never mind, just dig right in to it. Grandmothers are made to be sappy.

Perfection Is

Ten fingers
ten toes
that treasure your gentle touch.

Fingernails
tiny and sharp—
His simple signature.

Two hands
two feet
fill a heart with love.

Margaret Simon, draft

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Letter to the Wind

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , , , , on July 2, 2025| 9 Comments »

Photo by Molly Hogan

I subscribe to Georgia Heard’s newsletter. For the month of July, she invites us to write tiny letters. For July 2nd, the prompt is “Write a letter to the wind.” For the complete calendar, try this link.

I asked Molly Hogan, fellow Inkling who blogs at Nix the Comfort Zone, for a photo for this week. Molly is an amazing nature photographer who lives in Maine. She sent me a few to choose from, and I felt this one lended itself well to a letter to the wind.

Please share your small poems in the comments and support other writers with encouraging comments.

Here is my “quick write” letter to the wind:

Dear Wind,

Whatever the season,
you show up
soothe our suffering,
cuddle tree branches,
wrapping us up in your dreams.
Be kind to us, wind, we are struggling
through climate change,
through terrific
thunder storms. You give us breath,
breath of life,
breath of death.
Tend our tender hearts,
breath of daisy,
breath of desire.
Dear wind.

Margaret Simon, draft

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Slice of Life: What is Normal?

Posted in Poetry, Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , , , , on June 24, 2025| 9 Comments »

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

This past weekend was the Open Write at Ethical ELA. I am trying to write a poem every day, but it sure helps to have a good prompt. On Sunday, Tammi Belko led us to write in response to the question “What is normal?” You can see her full prompt here.

I was spending the morning with two of my grandchildren. As I sat with my tablet and notebook pondering her prompt, my grands Leo and Stella were drawing. Leo, age 6, has always loved drawing. Now he is old enough to add words to his drawings. Stella, his sister age 4, is following in his footsteps. Her drawings tell stories.

Super Dino-Force by Leo
“The monster was walking in the forest. In the ocean, the whale was splashing.” By Stella

Kid-Time Normal

All they need
is a marker
and paper—
Imagination soars…
Dinosaurs
with super powers,
Bad guys
with two robot arms,
Magical crystal charms…
Transformed
Transfixed
Time stops
on paper.

Margaret Simon, draft

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Summer Farmers Market

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Travel, Writing, tagged , , , on June 18, 2025| 9 Comments »

Madison, MS Farmers Market

My brother lives in Madison, MS, north of Jackson. My sister and I have been visiting. Yesterday he performed at the weekly farmers market. The theme was New Orleans, so he had a sax player join him, and they played New Orleans jazz tunes along with some favorites.

The afternoon had been the setting of a pop-up storm, but as soon as Hunter sang “When the Saints Go Marching In”, the sky opened up and “the sun began to shine.” My sister bought a box of fresh blueberries for us to enjoy for breakfast today.

What does a summer farmers market conjure for you? Please write a small poem in the comments and come back to support other writers with encouragement.

I am writing a nonet today, a form in which the syllable count goes up from 1-9. 

Come
enjoy
Jazz and juice,
plump blueberries,
tomatoes, peaches,
kids jumping for bubbles,
ice cream pops and cookie cake.
Fill your shopping bag with sunlight.
Take home golden garden groceries. 
Margaret Simon, draft

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Poetry Friday: My Favorite Kind of Silence

Posted in being mamére, Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged , , , on May 30, 2025| 11 Comments »

Poetry Friday is hosted today by Karen Edmisten.

I am finishing up a week of babysitting for two of my grandchildren this week. One of them, June, I kept during the day because daycare was closed. The other, Thomas, I kept after his day camp because his mother had a work trip.

This morning when I was dropping Thomas off for the last time, we had a talk about missing people we love. He started the conversation with “I miss my dad,” which could be viewed as a manipulative ploy for attention, but I didn’t take the bait. I said how much I would be missing him when I go back home.

He said, “Do you miss Papére?”

“Of course, I do. I miss Papére and Albért when I’m here with you, but I miss you and June when I’m home.”

Loving means you’re always missing someone. A conversation with a 5 year old brought me to tears.

This month I have been writing a poem each day using Georgia Heard’s May calendar. The prompt for today was “your favorite kind of silence.” The shadorma form fit nicely with the syllable count of 3, 5, 3, 3, 7, 5.

My Favorite Kind of Silence

Silence comes
after summer rain
before birds
recall sun
after a sung lullaby
a sleepy child’s sigh

Margaret Simon, draft

A rainy morning with Thomas

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Ode to Gladiolas

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , , , , , on May 28, 2025| 6 Comments »

May is a month for flowers. Last week sunflowers. Today, gladiolas. My friend Mary brought me a full bouquet with a variety of colors.

I am following Georgia Heard’s calendar and on Sunday, the topic was “what quiet sounds like.”

An ode is a poem of praise. I was also inspired by Amy Ludwig Vanderwater’s Ode to Seeds “Seedsong” from Poetry Friday.

Ode to Glads

Oh, the silence
in your lavender
touched by white
laced around a tall stalk.
It’s hard to believe
how you grow
perfectly perched
upon the soil,
now delighting
my kitchen table
with joyful obedience.
I love you.

Margaret Simon, draft

Please join me in writing a small poem of praise about May flowers. Leave your poem in the comments and support other writers with encouraging words.

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Sunflower

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , , , , , , on May 21, 2025| 31 Comments »

Sunflower at Petite Anse Farm, May 2025

This weekend was You-Pick Day at the Petite Anse Sunflower Farm. My daughter Martha was visiting with her little family, so we headed out Saturday morning to fill a vase for my book signing. The bright May sun was shining, and, with Martha’s help, we filled a vase of beautiful sunflowers. I love this annual event. Jennifer and Andy welcome visitors with buckets, clippers, bug spray, and conversation.

Sunflowers are living examples of the Fibonacci series, so I feel a fib poem is an appropriate small form. The syllable count is 1, 2, 3, 5, 8. Today on Georgia Heard’s inspiring calendar the prompt is “a letter to a place.”

Let’s celebrate May and warmth and flowers today. Please leave a small poem in the comments and support other writers with encouraging comments. Thanks for being here.

Dear
fire red
sunflower,
Thank you for your face
flaming from a stalk of grace.

Margaret Simon, draft

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Poetry Friday: The Meaning of your Name

Posted in Poetry Friday, Writing, tagged , , , on May 16, 2025| 16 Comments »

Poetry Friday is gathering today with Ramona Behnke at Pleasures from the Page.

I’ve been writing small poems this month following Georgia Heard’s Permission to Write Small calendar of prompts. Today the prompt was “the meaning of your name”. I felt an acrostic poem form would be a good choice.

The meaning of my name “Margaret” is pearl. I’ve known this, but I didn’t know why until I did some quick research on pearls. Apparently, the Persian word for pearl is margarita, which is the source of the name Margaret.

Margaret is a pearl—
Alchemy of soft tissue
Restored over time with
Grit, becoming
Abiding beauty,
Resolving with genuine grace
Eternal gem
Turning

Margaret Simon, draft

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