Poetry Friday.
Today is National Kite-Flying Day. That’s what I just read. Hmmm… I’ve always associated kites with March winds. I wonder? And… last night I watched “Kite Runner.” I wonder now, was it scheduled to coincide with this special kite day?
Intrigued, I searched and found a site with lots of trivia for National Kite-Flying Day 2019.
And then I saw some old photos from the St. Paul Daily News, Minnesota Historical Society Photograph Collection. I had to include them because they reminded me how my brothers and I would make kites out of newspaper and willow sticks. We were never very successful, as I recall.
Somewhere, in the back of a closet, I know there are a couple kites. We’ll get them out the next time we spend a day at the coast with our grandkids. And if we go without them, we will walk the beach and enjoy the enormous ones others fly. Last spring, I wrote about a day at the beach; two lines in my beach poem were about those kites–
dragons flying in the sky
tethered to earth with a string
And then, of course, when I think of kites, I think of wind and Robert Louis Stevenson’s wonderful poem, one of my favorites, one we read in March.
The Wind
by Robert Louis Stevenson
I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies’ skirts across the grass—
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
I saw the different things you did,
But always you yourself you hid.
I felt you push, I heard you call,
I could not see yourself at all—
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
O you that are so strong and cold,
O blower, are you young or old?
Are you a beast of field and tree,
Or just a stronger child than me?
O wind, a-blowing all day long,
O wind, that sings so loud a song!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I’m linking up with #PoetryFriday hosted by Laura Prudie Salas at her blog Writing the World for Kids. She’s celebrating the publication of her newest book, “Snowman – Cold = Puddle: Spring Equations,” and invited us to share an equation poem. Here’s mine.
kite + wind = touching the sky
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Photo Gallery: A kite-flying day during family week at Oregon coast
It’s so nice to “see” you again, Alice! I love your windy kite post. Those old pictures are fabulous–I can just imagine the care that those children put into creating their kites. I just picked up a kite for my husband and I to fly at the beach this spring. It’s old and dusty from our town’s recycling barn–I wonder what windy tales it could tell. Oh, and your equation poem is perfection!
Glorious! So beautiful to see wind intersecting with kites, and not snow, as it is here in the heart of winter in Montana. I enjoyed your poems and photos today!
Hi, Alice. I’m glad that you are back with us, flying high with your kite post! I love old photos and of course your beach poem and equation poem. Thanks for sharing high flying day thoughts.
And I hope you’ll put your poem in the Padlet!
I love your flying dragons! And I live in St. Paul, MN, so it was fun to see these photos!
Love Stevenson’s poem and your Equation Poem. I wish people in my area flew more kites. It’s one of those activities that seems to be disappearing around here.
What marvelous images! I think of wind, too when I think of kites. I like your equation poem!
I often think of kites as in March, too, Alice, so didn’t know about this day until Linda M. wrote. We take a special kite to the beach each year, as you wrote you sometimes do. Stevenson’s poem is like his others, often exactly right and true, and your two lines show promise of wonderful things to come! Love those older pics, too!
Yay! I wrote about kites today too. Great minds!
I found the notion of National Kite Day quite appealing Alice. Wish we had such a celebration in Australia. you further evoked a sense of nostalgia with your memory of making kites as a child. And finally you allowed me to savour the wonderful words of R L Stevenson:
I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies’ skirts across the grass—
You have left me flying high Alice. Thank you.