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Posts Tagged ‘#smallpoems’

Bleeding Heart vine

This beautiful bleeding heart vine was a small single branch when I took it inside for the winter. Last summer it didn’t bloom, but I saved it anyway. I’m learning this about gardening; As long as you see green, don’t give up on a plant. I didn’t give up, but I also didn’t have much hope. And now look! Not only is it thriving, it’s blooming. The blossoms seem to be hiding shamefully under the big leaves.

Google told me the symbolism of the bleeding heart flower is compassion. I think about the simple compassion I gave to this plant. It wasn’t difficult. Compassion should not be hard to give to others. I think it should come naturally.

Write a small poem inspired by the bleeding heart flower. Where are you needing compassion? How is your heart bleeding today?

You Belong

You belong
among white flowers
where stillness
grows heartwings
holding you in compassion,
acceptance, and love.

Margaret Simon, draft

My poem today is prompted by Georgia Heard’s calendar “Where you belong” and is written in the Shadorma form (3, 5, 3, 3, 7, 5)

Write a small poem in the comments and give encouraging feedback to other writers.

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Fairy Door by Kim Johnson

“Walking in the woods today, I came upon a fairy door,” wrote my friend Kim in a text. She suggested I use it here for a poetry prompt.

From Wikipedia: “A fairy door is a miniature door, usually set into the base of a tree, behind which may be small spaces where people can leave notes, wishes, or gifts for the fairies.”

An open invitation for imagination. I’m curious about the R on this door. Is it part of an alphabet trail? Is it the first or last initial for the person who made it? Is there a fairy with that initial?

Today I am choosing to write an elfchen. Somehow a fairy door calls for an elfchen poem.

Fairy
holds wishes
in the forest
Delicate balance of presence
Oracle

I invite you into this magical forest to let go of concerns and be imaginative. Write a small poem in the comments. Join me on Instagram during the month of May writing #smallpoems, #poemsofpresence. Tag me @margaretgsimon.

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Carol Varsalona is rounding up this month at Beyond Literacy Links.

 “A world of grief and pain, flowers bloom—even then.” -Kobayashi Issa

Carol’s husband died recently and as she navigates her grief, I am pleased that she still wants to be involved in the wider world of blogging. I love the quote she offered by Issa. I received Georgia Heard’s newsletter in which she invites us to write small. Writing that is small can carry a large load or it can capture a small moment. Here’s Georgia’s May calendar of invitations.

Gardenia power
scents the whole kitchen with breaths
of grandma’s perfume

Flowers have brightened my daily walks this spring. With the sun rising by the time I head out with Albert, I’ve had more light to walk in. Sunrises, too, delight me. A spiritual journey is a daily practice of presence.

I invite you to write #poemsofpresence this month. I will post daily on Instagram. I will also give myself grace if I miss a day or two. May is about keeping myself grounded as the whirling ending of school presses upon me.

This desert rose thrives at my front door. Another blossoming welcoming spring.

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Growing up in Mississippi and now living in Louisiana, I always thought this flower was called a buttercup and grew wild on roadsides. This photo was taken in my neighborhood near the curb of an empty lot. These wild things love a bit of concrete to bloom from.

Yesterday when I googled them, I saw that I could actually buy seeds and that they were also known as a primrose. I love both of these names and wanted to play with them in a poem.

There is a poem form in which the first line is _______ is a ________ word. I came across this form when I was cleaning my classroom. Irene Latham had sent me two along with a collage in a summer poem swap who knows how long ago.

Buttercup is a bouncy word
open to the spring
of teacups with a dollop of honey
and lacy pink napkins.

Primrose is a proper word
holding out its pinky
ready to sip sweetness
among the wild grass.

Margaret Simon, draft

Please write a small poem in the comments and support each other with positive feedback.

The final line of the Kidlit Progressive Poem is with April Wayland at Teaching Authors. Hope over and give her some comment love, too. The line is a celebration. She’s asking for a title.

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My friend Lory is a retired first grade teacher who now works at the Avery Island Country Store. She posted a picture of a small sleeping fawn. A sure sign of spring on “the island.” Today in my class, we are on the letter K for poetry month, so I am writing a kouta, aJapanese form that contains a quatrain with the syllable count of 7, 7, 7, 5 or 7, 5, 7, 5.

Early morn, she saw a fawn
a nestled speckled pillow
Where’s your mama, little one?
Can I be your friend?

Margaret Simon, draft

Please leave a small poem in the comments and support other writers with your comments.

The 2025 Kidlit Progressive Poem is with Ruth today: There is no such thing as a Godforsaken Town.

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Woodland Path by Patt Little

I borrowed this photo from Instagram. I’ve been to Acadiana Park Nature Station, but it was years ago on a field trip with students. I was drawn in by the path and thought about that tree, fallen across the path. How could this be a metaphor?

Metaphor can be elusive. Metaphor can be magical. Allan Wolf uses the phrase, “Metaphors be with you!” Think about metaphor today. Can you make it work in a small poem?

A Path Can Be

A path can be a crooked line
scribbled on a page.

A path can be a stopping place
to let the world pass by.

A path can be a rocky road
where every step is tricky.

A path can be a long, long road
that leads you to your home.

Margaret Simon, draft

The Kidlit Progressive Poem is with Tabatha today at The Opposite of Indifference.

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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.
Cat in the Window, Kilcullen, Ireland by Jone MacCulloch

When I choose a photo to feature as a poem prompt, I choose what pleases me. Sometimes it’s a picture I’ve taken during the week, but this week it’s a photo that caught my eye on an Instagram post from Jone MacCulloch. I asked her if I could use it this week, and she sent me the photo and the collage she had made with it.

Collage by Jone MacCulloch

Jone wrote, “The piece you like is a mixed media piece. I have been playing with landscape scene. This was a cat in Kilcullin, Ireland, 2022. This has some pieces of my grandmother’s journal(copied). It’s part of a new exhibit in April.” Congratulations to Jone on her upcoming exhibit.

I love how blogging has opened windows and doors for me to creative people. Jone and I have not met in person, but we’ve been on multiple Zoom meetings together. We’ve had conversations through blogging and email. She featured this same photo on her blog for “Wordless Wednesday.” But I think the photo invites words.

Please join me in the comments by writing a small poem today inspired by Jone’s photo or art collage. Encourage other writers with comments.

“A cat’s eyes are windows enabling us to see into another world.” Irish proverb

Behind a lace curtain
on a warm windowsill,
a nonchalant cat
holds a light
until her people
come home.

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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

*One Little Word 2025

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Cajun Snowman

Acadiana in Louisiana has gotten a rare, historical snowstorm. Cajuns all around are reconnecting to their Canadian roots and building snowmen. This one was posted by a colleague at my school, Alice Suire.

It’s still bitter cold here, so the snow is sticking. Another snow day! For those of you not familiar with French, the word couillon means fool.

Snowman Elfchen

Snowman
On truckbed
Rare Louisiana snow
Old family traditions reinvented
Couillon

Margaret Simon, draft

Please leave a small poem in the comments. Respond to other writers with encouragement. And stay warm!

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Dawning Wolf Moon

The full moon greeted me on a frigid morning this week. I don’t think Iphones are great at taking moon photos. This photo with its automatic longer exposure blurred the cloud cover creating an interesting effect, don’t you think? I know I’ve featured moon photos here often. Like ocean view photos, I never tire of the peaceful feeling of a full moon, especially the bright light on a cold morning.

Dawning Wolf Moon

Moon’s perfect circle
holds me in her gaze.
Her royal crown welcomes dawn.

I look up and belong
to her still space.
In her light, I find
my footing.

Today as I write, I am thinking about word choice. The last line has a few scratches in my notebook. The choices were:
I belong to the night
I become myself
I see light that welcomes me

There are many choices when writing a poem, and I am never sure which one is the right choice, and perhaps they are all good. How do you decide what words to choose? What makes a final draft? Is there really such a thing?

Join me today in writing about the moon (again) or anything else that is needing to be written. I offer a safe place where you belong.

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