I lay my hand on his back, gently hush him, telling him everything is all right . . . when really my life is torn raw and your fading whomp, whomp, whomp is the sound of war far away, yet so close.
EM, in her summer between kindergarten and first grade, full of gift-excitement, stops just in front of me, “It’s for you, Gramma.”
The air is dry, scented with fading lavender and blooming peppermint that line my walkway.
I wonder, would my poem have been celebrated in the classroom or would it have been set aside because I failed to follow directions explicitly?
There are times when I must go to the sea. This past week was one of those times.
Three very loud blasts, like a blaring horn, shattered the quiet with a suddenness that makes you panic. I felt a strange tension run through me for a moment.
Sacredness surrounds me
in the wonder of creation
my heart praises God.
I marvel that they sing such songs in this their darkest night. Such joy, peace, love — they give to all of us in their songs.
This post, inspired by primary teachers who joined me during the workshops, is a recap one of the activities we did, an activity to build background knowledge, introduce rich vocabulary, and provide descriptive models during our discussion about prewriting … using poetry.
Words were swelling out of my spirit like a mighty sword . . .
You must accept
or reject the story.
I was a child on that day / sitting on the shoulders of my uncle / part of a great multitude
Sometimes the petals float down in a soft shower, drifting on a spring breeze. It is such a lovely sight.
Under the falling darkness
as day fades and night engulfs
I think of light and warmth.
The campfire pulls me in . . .
Not all appreciation is expressed with a “thank you.”
#SOLC19 No. 31.
As she blended a smoothie, Grandma
cautioned “Pays to pay attention,
or caged birds eatin’
seeds is what you’uns’ll be.”
#SOLC19 No. 30
He looked at his glass with sadness.
#SOLC19 No. 29 and #PoetryFriday
“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.” -Elie Wiesel
#SOLC19 No. 28
I was sitting tall on my bike trying to catch the full effect of the air moving over my body, hoping it would offer some relief to the heat. I rode deliberately under the low branches of oaks, mulberries, and pecans that lined our streets.