Today’s Mini-Lesson Monday is courtesy of guest author Liz Garton Scanlon. Liz is the author of picture books like All the World and Noodle and Lou as well as a brand new middle grade novel, The Great Good Summer. She’s wearing her poet hat for today’s lesson…all about rhyme.
Hi Teacher-Writers! Thanks for letting me join you at Camp today. I want to talk a little bit about rhyme because it’s rich with possibility but oft-misunderstood. Folks either think:
1. It’s super-duper easy (spoiler alert: it’s not) or,
2. It’s way too hard (it’s not that either).
Really, rhyme is a puzzle – tricky but not impossible. So if you’re willing to play along, I’ve got some hints to make writing in rhyme a little more fun and a lot more successful.
1. Rhyme should follow a pattern. If you are going to write a piece of rhyming verse, write pairs of lines that rhyme (couplets: aa/bb/cc/dd/etc) or maybe four lines, wherein every other line rhymes (quatrains: abab/cdcd/efef/etc) or even a whole poem where only every second line rhymes (simple rhymes: ab/cb/db/eb/etc). This pattern is called the rhyme scheme. When you start writing in rhyme, pick a rhyme scheme and stick with it!
2. Rhyme isn’t just about rhyming words – it’s about meter too. If you embed rhyming words in a chunk of text that doesn’t have some predictable rhythmic arrangement, you won’t even hear the rhyme and your work will be for naught! Start by counting the syllables in each line of your rhyming verse. Lines should be fairly regular and should match the rhyme scheme. So, if you’re writing in couplets, each line should have the same syllabic count. If you’re writing in quatrains, each line might be the same, or they might alternate so that the first and third lines match, syllabically, as do the second and fourth. (Note: Counting syllables will get you 80-85% of the way there, rhythmically. If there’s a line that still doesn’t sound right, it’s because the meter is off in one or more words, so even though the number of syllables is right, the emphasis is on the wrong syllable somewhere. The simplest solution for this is choosing a different word!)
3. Rhyme is less important than meaning. Sometimes, because the puzzle of rhyming is so tricky, we say something totally illogical or nonsensical – but darn it, it rhymes! This is really only ok if you’re writing Jabberwocky. In all other cases, you need to find a way to do what the story or poem actually needs. Rhyme is just the vehicle for getting the story told. If you’ve been forced into something that makes no sense, scratch it and start anew. With these hints in mind, here’s today’s assignment:
1. Commit to writing a 12-line rhyming poem or story.
2. Use either 6 couplets (aa/bb/cc/etc) or 3 quatrains (abab/cdcd/efef)
3. After you’ve written the first 2-4 lines, count the syllables. Even them out as necessary and then stick with that count as you finish the piece.
4. Read it over. Does it make sense? Did rhyme force you to do anything you didn’t want to do? Adjust as necessary.
5. Wrap it up. Read it aloud. Read it aloud again. You hear that? You did that!
Nice job, poet!
Note from Kate: Feel like sharing your twelve lines for today? Go ahead & paste in the comments – we promise to be supportive poet-friends!
Missing my grandkids right now, especially my grand-daughter. She has called me “Girlfriend or Grandma Girlfriend” since she was two. When here she is my writing buddy. We are actually writing a picture book together. But they moved so I don’t see her and her brother as often. I’m really missing her today so I wrote this for her.
Haylee
I miss you since you moved away
I feel so lost inside.
I don’t know what to do or say
a part of me has died.
Girlfriend you’d shout so loud and clear
and run into my arms.
The grandest words that I could hear
my heart it warms and charms.
To me a friend you’ll always be
And oh so much, much more.
Oh grand-daughter you hold the key
That opens my heart’s door.
Oh, Sandra…..the emotion of your poem is so strong! I miss Haylee too….and I don’t even know her! How old is she now? I’m so envious that you are writing together. My daughter is a talented artist. I’d love for her to illustrate some of my writings….but alas, she’s busy with the drawings and collages and projects SHE wants to do. That’s OK. I can wait. 🙂 Sending you wishes for a letter, phone call, e-mail from Haylee to you today.
Linda thank you. Haylee is 9. Our picture book came about as I was brushing tangles from her hair. We were trying to decide how the Naughty Knots got into her hair. She said, “Maybe they were using it for a jumprope”. Then she got out her paper and said, “That’s what our book can be about.” She has plotted the whole thing. She keeps a portfolio with her writing ideas and her stories here at my house. I get a “book” for my birthday and Christmas from her. She says she wants to be a teacher and writer like me when she grows up. I want her to be what she wants to be.
What a lovely poem, full of emotion. My grandmother wrote poems in every card and letter she sent, and I treasure those. She called them jingles, but they were full of feeling and beauty, just like your poem to Haylee. Thank you for sharing this. It brought a lot of feeling to me.
Your poem captures how much you love and miss Haylee, Sandra. It is lovely. I hope that you will save it and share it with her someday.
Shared it with her mom through text message. We will talk when I get back for doctor today to see when we can get the kids for a visit.
Sandra, I love, love, love your poem. I got chills while I was reading it, and I don’t even know you or your granddaughter. She sounds like a very special girl. Thank you for sharing. Happy writing!
Sandra — so much love here — and spot on rhyme and rhythm! Glad you were able to express yourself and your feelings poetically 🙂
Sandra your poem is a gift for all who read it. You”ve captured your relationship and special times with your granddaughter. A. Gift I know she will treasure forever. It evoked many memories about my grandmother. Your words are so powerful.
This made me tear up. So lovely.
Beautiful poem!
I do hope you get to see your little muse soon 🙂
Liz Scanlon,
Wow! Thank you for dropping by today. I’m so impressed with the talk The Great Good Summer is getting in the book world. Good reviews from my favs Mr. Shu and Sharpe! Keep writing for our tender, smart, thinking, questioning middle-graders. We NEED you!
I loved your challenge today. I write stories in verse…mostly free verse. But, I love a challenge for rhyme! I took a course from Renee La Tullipe over the winter: Lyrical Language Lab and I believe it helped my prose AND my poetry. We hit rhyme and meter HARD. I struggled but I think I’m stronger for it.
Here’s my rhyme contribution for this morning. I tried to tie it to one of my WIPs…the rhymes aren’t perfect and I will keep tinkering with it. But, for a morning exercise, I’m happy.
THANK YOU again for being here.
Letters in the Dust 1934
Nineteen hundred thirty-four
my name written in the dust
across my breakfast table
one finger a guilty brush.
Dirt blown in from Oklahoma
That was supposed to grow the corn
but boiled and sifted east on winds
dry as bones, sterile, full of scorn.
For farmers frantic to plant and sow
a crop, some food, a bit of life.
It’s been too long between our letters.
This is no good way to write.
http://awordedgewiselindamitchell.blogspot.com/2015/07/71315-writing-challenge-from-liz.html
I really enjoyed this. Made me wonder who she’s writing to. It also perfectly described the setting/time period. You realized just how dry and dusty it was. Great job.
Linda, your poem has a great sense of time and place. Your word choice emphasizes the lifelessness and hopelessness of this time—boiled, dust, dry, sterile, frantic. Nice job!
There is so much story here. The image of the dust on the table captured me. Well done!
Stefanie
Hi Linda! Thanks so much for your sweet words — and also, for your poetic contribution. I LOVE the language in this poem — it’s so evocative. Congratulations!
The last line of this poem is haunting, and I love how it ties back to the guilty brush in the first stanza. You’ve used powerful words (sterile, scorn) that layer meaning, and I love that it makes me want to know more of this person’s story. Who are they? Why is she guilty? Why can’t they write? Beautiful.
Linda, thank you for sharing your poem. Your line, “one finger a guilty brush,” really stuck with me. It evokes a particular feeling and sets the mood. Likewise, the words, “dry as bones, sterile, full of scorn,” are powerful and evocative. I like the simile and personification here. You have intrigued me, and made me want to read more!
Thanks for a great mini-lesson, Liz! I love playing with words and writing free verse poetry. It’s been a long time since I’ve played with rhyming poetry and this task was a challenge, albeit a fun one.
Yesterday my husband and I walked along the beach and came across a protected nesting area for terns and plovers. We stopped to watch a swaggering bird trying to entice his mate. It was fascinating and inspired this poem today. (I imagine if I’d written it in free verse it would have had a very different tone — perhaps I’ll try that later!)
Oh–and I must admit, I did not know the word “avicular.” I first used avian, but it didn’t work for me, rhythmically, so I searched for a synonym.
Here’s my poem:
A birdie did a courtin’ go
along the beach one day.
A fine slim fish he swanked about
to lure his wary prey.
He postured on the sun-baked sand,
spreading his wings aloft.
He sidled up to get in close,
his dark eye keen and soft.
Repeatedly he shook his beak,
with sparkling fish inside.
This must be avicular talk
for “Will you be my bride?”
This is lovely, Molly!
You truly have a rhythm here! I could almost dance to it! I laughed out loud. Thank you!
Stefanie
Thanks, Stefanie. It was a fun moment. I just read and enjoyed your post and loved that you linked to your blog so you could share an image. Here’s my blog link in case you want to see the photos that go with this poem.
https://mbhmaine.wordpress.com/2015/07/13/a-birdie-did-a-courtin-go-attempting-a-rhyming-poem/ (Crossing my fingers that this links!)
love your poem! Jaunty and fun!
Wow, Molly, what a connection from going courtin’ to “Will you be my bride?” I often talk to my students about the art of connecting the first line with a poem to the last line. You nailed it!
Thank you for sharing! Happy writing!
Ha — this is so much fun, Molly! Really ready to be read aloud (and illustrated!) Thanks for playing along….
Molly, what a great poem! I love the use of rhythm and syllables. I was able to visualize the bird you saw. 🙂
so much fun…and funny and is that courtship all at once. Nicely done.
Just wonderful. I laughed and then went back to read it again, aloud. The rhyme feels natural, and I feel like I can see the whole scene.
Thanks for all the comments and feedback–so helpful and encouraging!
Molly, your poem is delightfully playful and sing-songy! I would love to read it to my third graders! How fun that you imagined this from a scene you observed on the beach. Stories really are everywhere! We just need to uncover them, which you did beautifully. Thanks for sharing!
Thanks, Dalila! Feel free to share it with your class–I hope they enjoy it!
Thanks!
Very nice! Sweet and sassy all in one.
Here’s a poem I came up with this morning. My husband has celiac disease and we have to be steadfast about keeping gluten-containing foods away. I was thinking of expanding this into a children’s book. Feedback is welcome!
Cross-Contamination
Jumping gluten crumbs can kill
They would make me feel real ill
If they got into my food
I’d be in a dreadful mood.
You must keep the table clear
Wipe it down, not just a shmear
When you dip a knife in jelly
Do it once or it’ll hurt my belly.
If you follow rule for rule
We can eat together, cool?
Remember: gluten can’t touch,
Thank you, thank you, very much!
This is something I would use in my classroom. We are always having conversations about why certain kids can’t eat certain things. I think this would make a great picture book.
This sounds like a great idea for a kids’ book. I think that written in verse it would be especially appealing.
Awesome, Selene! I agree with Sandra and Molly – this would make a great picture book. I am a lunch monitor that would definitely read it to the students in the cafeteria. Thanks for sharing!
Great voice and sense of humor. Thanks for sharing!!
Thank you Sandra, Molly, Andy, and Maria for the great feedback!
Talking about allergies in rhyme — clever! Thanks for playing along, Selene!
Adorable….but also serious! I think there is probably a growing market for this topic. A collection of poems for how to work with and be considerate of special dietary needs. Keep going!
Hi Liz,
Thanks for a great Monday morning challenge! I’m also looking forward to reading The Great Good Summer. I love finding new Middle School novels.
Lately, I’ve been noticing how the laundry has grown as my children have grown. Bigger kids = bigger clothes, so I played with that & with rhyme.
I posted it to my blog because I really wanted to show the image that goes with it!
http://morningmusing.weebly.com/morning-musing/everything-grows-teacherswrite
Thanks,
Stefanie
Stefanie–I love the topic you chose for your poem as it’s one I can truly relate to and it’s nice to see it approached with humor instead of dread! It’s also a great example of how a small everyday task/moment can be a great idea for writing. Great photo, too!
Ha ha — as the mother of teens, I can relate! What a fun poem with great details…. Thanks for playing with us, Stefanie!
Wow, I really loved this. The short lines added to the exasperated mood. Plus the image you paired it with is spot on!
It may be time to transition to having them doing their own laundry! 😉 I love how the last stanza is a bit of a surprise ending – funny instead of the poignant direction my head had gone. And the post script even rhymes! Love it!
Stefanie, your poem conjures such a sweet image of teeny, tiny outfits in a neat little row, only to be substituted by the big clothes of bigger people who generate more laundry work. Thanks for sharing your thoughts in this poem!
I recently spent time at the beach with my two-year-old god daughter. She grew to love playing and splashing in the waves so this is the poem I wrote to honor our time together.
\”It\’s coming Lala!\”she yelled
And the power of water she knew.
At the wave in fear she quelled,
but she rose, and in bravery grew.
Her castles knocked down one by one,
And it buried her feet in the sand.
Holding hands in laughter she spun,
with the grand desire to stand.
Four hands, two smiles, wet hair.
Apple cheeks framed by brown curls.
Not one moment\’s rest to spare
For two swim-loving salty-eyed girls.
You’ve captured the beach with a toddler here. I like how in both the first and second stanza the last lines address her emotions.
Lilla, your poem is so sweet and took me to the water’s edge with you. I love how you start the poem with your god-daughter calling out to you. Thank you for sharing this special moment!
Thank you both for the kind words! It means so much to have positive feedback on my first post!
Good morning, Ms. Scanlon and TWer’s!
Thank you, Ms. Scanlon, for this great little lesson and for helping to get the writing juices flowing on a Monday morning. I will be honest when I write that this was a difficult task. Although, I will also write that three of the four kids are off at camp (see poem) so the environment is perfect (almost too quiet) for writing. Here goes:
Summer Vacation
A bright new day begins
No sad frowns, only grins
The blue sky comes alive
The house is a buzzing hive
Kids are running both here and there
Off to camps, the pool, everywhere
Packing backpacks, grabbing lunches
Meeting their friends in big bunches
A constant smell of sunscreen
Always piles of shorts to clean
Playing, running, flip flops to mend
Wishing the summer would not end
Thank you again. I’m off to tackle a pile of laundry. Happy Writing!
Andy–You did a nice job capturing that wonderful, busy, semi-chaotic feel of summer vacation with active children. Enjoy!
Ah yes, piles of shorts and sunscreen – I love it Andy!
Such great details and so many familiar ones! Thanks for playing, Andy.
My 3 girls are all grown up now. This recaptures that wonderful summer spirit!
Andy, your poem conveys the happy frenzy of summer! I was taken back to the years when my son was younger, and these activities were the rhythm of summer. Thanks for putting these images into words, or rather, allowing me to enjoy the images through your words!
Good morning Liz and thank you! I loved this assignment and I love a rhyming challenge! I’m considering rhyme for my children’s book/WIP so this was a helpful exercise. I thought i’d keep it short and sweet and yes, this really did happen to me as I sat down to write this morning. Blue jays can be so mean! Even to a 70 lb German Shepherd! I wish I had their spunk. Here goes:
Blue jay, you’re nasty
as you dive bomb at me-
Making those noises
from up in that tree!
You managed to do it –
you scared my big dog!
Even made me afraid
to write in this log!
I’m going back in now,
my deck is not safe.
Thanks for the show,
filled with wonder…and grief!
Still some meter to tinker with, it’s not easy!
P.S. Perfect timing, my two kids just found me hiding out here. Where’s that blue jay when I need him? 😉
Well done, Andrea!
I will write that after reading your poem that I am scared for you (so much for some quiet reading and writing on the deck). I loved the part – Even made me afraid to write in this log!
Happy writing! Be safe!:)
ha ha — this is funny and really visceral! So glad you participated, Andrea. And good luck avoiding the dive bomber!
reminds me of a VERY territorial bird who terrorized the front entrance of my former school one spring! Dive bombing indeed! nicely done!
I use to live in Kansas City where blue jays did this to me all the times. I have not seen a blue jay in years where I live now. Thanks for bringing back memories! They are such beautiful but nasty birds.
Andrea, your poem screams to be accompanied by illustrations in a book for children! I really can picture the blue jay mocking you and your big dog from above, planning it’s next attack. The rhyme and rhythm of your poem contribute to the mood. Love it!
Blue jay, uncertain
Defending her brood
Are you friend or foe?
Prone to ill or the good?
Poor mamma is blind
to the motives of all
So she’s far less than kind
to the sum of you all.
Today’s exercise really stretched me. Thank you! My poem, while far from perfect, really was fun to puzzle out. I ended up with an ABBA scheme–hope that works!
The passage of time, upon first thought,
Seems easy to understand.
Like an arrow moving but one way
It is straightforward. Or is it not?
You are born, you grow, time marches on,
It is easy to take this stance.
Yet Faulkner said, and I do believe,
The past is never truly dead and gone.
He said all of us labor in webs,
Spun long before we were born.
Those tangles of gossamer silk,
Do create our life’s flows and our ebbs.
replying to say that I’m still tinkering with meter, etc.!
Well done, Sonja!
I love the reference to Faulkner. What a creative idea!
Happy writing!
Thank you!
There’s something so lovely about this! The Faulkner, the gossamer silk. Thanks for playing along!
thank you so much!
Thank you, Liz, for this writing challenge. I have always enjoyed rhyme but have never attempted it. Your advice on meter, counting syllables and then perhaps changing the word, is something my students have struggled with but I couldn’t put my finger on until now. Here is my attempt:
The sun, it shines
The birds, they sing
I hear your voice
So I come in
Coffee is on
The paper in hand
You call to me
So I come in
Your chair empty
But I take mine
My heart is heavy
We miss you, friend.
poignant poem. You capture so well how everything seems normal–and then the realization hits.
So tender — the tiny important moments and details that add up to a person and a life. Such nice work….
I gave this a try. We jsut spent a few beautiful days in Quebec, so that is what has been on my mind.
Quebec
Old city, once fortified
by soldiers on thick fortress walls
Now children laugh and play up high
As the street performer calls
Neighborhoods stately old homes
On narrow, winding streets
Many now bed and breakfast inns
With travelers to greet
Terrace by the river beckons
wooden slats, warmed by the sun
tourists and the ghosts of guests
battles lost and won
I enjoyed this! Makes me want to visit.
Try again with spaces! This is very new to me.
Quebec
Old city once fortified
by soldiers on thick fortress walls
Now children laugh and play up high
As the street performer calls
Neighborhoods of stately old homes
On narrow winding streets
Many now bed and breakfast inns
With travelers to greet
Terrace by the river beckons
wooden slats, warmed by the sun
tourists and the ghosts of guests
battles lost and won
A lovely portrait poem of one of my all-time favourite cities. Are you there now? Isn’t it beautiful?
What a great description of Quebec! I was transported back to it’s streets.
What a great idea for a poem! I’m traveling soon and you’ve inspired me to attempt some poetry during my wanderings! Thanks for sharing!
Send this to their chamber of commerce! It’s delightful! Thanks for giving it a whirl!
Thanks, Liz. Any suggestions for rhyming words? Specifically, how close do they have to be? In a song, they can be very vaguely rhyming and the way it’s sung can carry the rhyme. Do you feel that works for poetry too?
Thanks for contributing your time. I’ll be writing later.
Hi David…. You’re talking about near rhymes and slant rhymes which I, personally, LOVE in poems. In picture books, editors mostly look for perfect rhymes but I say there are no rules here today! Enjoy
In the dark, I park my car
I haul in my lunch, and coffee, and tote
Wave at my friend from afar
Think…“Gee, I thought she had strep throat?”
Flip the lights, write on the board
Ask myself, “What’s the plan for today?”
“Hmmm. That’s ambitious, am I out of my gourd?”
Glance at the clock, and I’m on my way.
Open the door, the noise pours in
Smiling, mad, some ready, others not
Welcome them, let the show begin
Pray some remember what I’ve taught!
I was thinking about the chaos of a school day morning. My teaching partner had strep throat several times this past year, and it certainly added to the craziness!
Ha — I love this! Especially the board/gourd rhyme. Thanks for sharing
Thanks for the prompt! I teach second grade and struggle with poetry because some students get stuck on rhyming- even if I tell them not to try to rhyme at all! So we end up with strange, nonsensical word combinations, just because they rhyme! For me, my WIP is a grown-up novel, but the setting is my neighborhood, and one of our units in second grade is about neighborhood, so I spent some time thinking about how to use this in my classroom, while reflecting (in a fun way!) about the setting of my WIP. My baby is waking, but I’ll be back to read and respond to some other poems!
My Nieghborhood
Cully is where the sidewalk ends
With gravel roads that twist and bend
A piece of the city that used to be
A place where berry fields were all you could see
Now apartments tall and houses small
A brand-new park where kids play ball
A changing place as the signs soon tell
Farmer’s market, fancy restaurants, houses to sell
Other Portland neighborhoods murmur warning
Too fast change sends some mourning
Cully as you freshen up, don’t forget your modest start
So your Brown, your Black, your poor residents can still take part.
I really enjoyed this. You capture the changing town beautifully, as well as the writer’s apprehension of change.
Oh, these details! You’re lucky to have Cully 🙂 Thanks so much for sharing….
I love your description of Cully…especially the first 6 lines of the poem! I also love the first line’s allusion to a Shel Silverstein poem (not sure if this was intentional or not, but I love it!)
Great lesson! I always have trouble with meter, so the suggestion to count syllables after writing the first few lines, and then sticking with that count, was particularly helpful (even though I still didn’t get it just right!).
One Last Time
One last time you held my hand
With your own, so soft and strong.
But like an hourglass dripping sand,
I knew we didn’t have long.
One last time you sang a song,
One you had known from days long past.
For a moment, a smile erased the wrong,
A moment that couldn’t last.
One last time you took a breath,
And I held onto mine.
I watched you slip away with death,
And said “I love you” one last time.
You captured the final moments beautifully. Thank you for sharing.
This is a lovely poem — full of love and loss. Repeating the words “One last time” was so effective.
Lovely. Quite an tribute to honor a loved one who passed on.
This is so tender — thank you for sharing something so dear to you. And as for the meter — counting syllables doesn’t ensure that the meter will be QUITE right because there will still be words with the emphasis on the wrong syllable. But you’ll be so close and then you can futz with those last couple of beats that don’t feel quite right.
Beautiful! I really loved, “One last time you took a breath, /
And I held onto mine.”
Beautiful! This poem really touched my heart as I read it! I always tell my students that the best poems make you feel something, and this one definitely did!!
I am so happy to get back to TW this week, and what a way to start with Liz! I loved her new book, and always enjoy a poetry challenge. So, my poem got deep, fast. It’s a very personal commentary and observation on recent events. My little sister got married a few weeks ago, and our grandmother decided not to attend because of conflicts in the family. It hurt my sister and us all deeply…this is my reflection on her missing the wedding. Thanks for reading.
We tried not to notice
the thing that was not there
We tried not to linger
or seem to really care
We walked down the aisle
all dressed in shades of green
Not one seat left open
the gaping hole unseen
We hoped it would not weigh
on all our minds to mourn
We thought the day was whole
without her. We were torn.
oh, but she’s there…every word shows the looking for her. Wow. Very emotional. Torn….fits the mood perfectly.
Oh, gosh. Families. What we do to each other. It’s madness, isn’t it? Thanks so much for sharing…
Thanks for the poetry push. I struggled with the “a” in line four because it messed with my syllables but in the end decided to take poetic license and let it stay.
A crib, a twin and now a queen
So much has happened in between
First grade, high school, college, now work
“I’m grown up Mom,” says he with a smirk
“Can I borrow the car Mom?” Please
Oh to have you sit on my knees
Booties, Nikes, cleats, now oxfords
The time has come to cut those cords
Your car sped away, you waved goodbye
My tears slid down, I cannot lie
I’m proud of the man you’ve become
But prouder still to be your mum.
A crib, a twin and now a queen
So much has happened in between
First grade, high school, college, now work
“I’m grown up Mom,” says he with a smirk
“Can I borrow the car Mom?” Please
Oh to have you sit on my knees
Booties, Nikes, cleats, now oxfords
The time has come to cut those cords
Your car sped away, you waved goodbye
My tears slid down, I cannot lie
I’m proud of the man you’ve become
But prouder still to be your mum.
Sounds like it could be a country song.
Love this one!
Oh, this one gets me. I’m fastly approaching an empty nest myself. Thanks for sharing!
S’more, my dog, his body is white
He often barks with all his might
He stands almost one foot tall
Chasing after his orange ball
He pictures himself much grander
In his dreams he’s a pit bull commander
Guarding our house all day and night
Often giving the postman great fright
Yet at the end of each evening
A cuddle in my lap is pleasing
Although he’s small, my favorite part
Is his massive colossal heart!
Thanks for this fun prompt. If you would like to read more, please see my blog at mortonwy/blogspot.com
I am loving reading everyone’s poems today!
I will hang out with this wonderful dog anytime! This was delightful, and I hope you read it to him.
Ha! Darling and funny! Thanks for playing with us!
Hi Liz! What a fun way to start a week! OK, so I may be over-dramatizing here a bit, but some days of summer vacation might look a little bit like this. Maybe.
I really AM about to go crazy!
Watching my teens be incredibly lazy!
Episodes of the Office drone on, never-ending.
If they don’t turn this off, consequences are pending!
Outside it’s summer! Inside they languish–
teen corpses on couches…causing me anguish!
But “watching”? It’s a term I use very loosely
’cause really they’re staring at phone screens profusely.
Their eyes barely waver, all attention is caught
“Invite some friends over,” I encourage– for naught.
“Mom, you’re missing the boat, don’t you understand that
I AM with my friends! We’re all on SnapChat!”
I LOVE this! It’s so accurate of today’s teens! So much fun!
Glad I am not the only one dealing teenagers! Love this….perfect description “teen corpses on couches”. Thanks for sharing!
Great poem! I was laughing and shaking my head as I recognized this scene! I love the phrase “corpses on couches” and you have more great word choice throughout (drone, languish, anguish). Fun!
This sounds like my house! You captured this perfectly!
ha ha! Oh, Diane. I suspect many are reading this and nodding along 🙂 Thanks for playing along!
Here\’s one about our ever-hopeful, ever-helpful dachshund, Sable.
Begging
Little mini-doxie Sable
Waiting underneath the table
Hoping for a bite of scraps
Careless crumbs brushed from our laps.
Tail wagging, eyes implore,
“Please drop something on the floor.”
Ever hopeful, ever there,
Sable goes from chair to chair.
Guests ignore her, Mom says, “No!”
Sable droops and turns to go.
Then a scramble, milk is spilling,
Who will clean up? Sable’s willing!
Sable knows she is the winner,
Oh, the joys of kids at dinner!
I enjoyed your poem. It reminds of my visits to my son’s house where his dod, Stella, begs for food at the dinner table.
What a fun poem! We have three dogs in our house, and despite our best efforts, there always seems to be at least one under a chair at dinner time. Probably they’re waiting for those exciting accidents!
Oh, yes! A poem for all dogs! Thanks so much for sharing!
Okay, I am going to need all the support in the world for this one. I have always dreaded writing poetry, but I did it today! I don’t think much about this, and, unfortunately, I had to ignore Liz’s excellent advice on putting meaning first, because I have no idea where this is going. However, I worked on the rhyme, and am putting on my brave hat and sharing. Into the dark and out of the light
She ran through the hills with all her might
Chasing away the last trace of home
The land was now hers to fully roam
She never thought this moment would come
Alive with senses that once were numb
Stopping at last and turning around
It dawned on her the wonder she found
For far in the distance, sounds emerged
Voices, melodies, and cries converged
She knew at that moment time had come
Destiny waited, she would succumb
look at you! shaking some poetry lose from your pen….doesn’t it feel so good? Take a bow!
Are you kidding? This is fabulous! For not putting much thought into it, you ended up with a poem full of meaning!
Um, WOW???!!! I can’t believe this, from someone feeling so nervous about rhyme. It’s lovely — AND, you must have been following an inner logic, an implicit meaning, because there’s definitely no nonsense here. Thanks so much for sharing!
What a great way to start a rainy day Monday! I love cowboy poetry. When I retire I want to visit the festivals and maybe I’ll get the courage to perform some that I’ve written. Thanks! Jennifer Choate
Rainy Day Monday
Rain kept me from sleeping peacefully.
Late start Monday morning.
Checked the prompt- great for me!
I love cowgirl poetry!
Joy slides grumpily out of the closet.
Boo’s always ready to go.
Merle and patchwork spotty catahoulas
Anything moves- they know!
Ramble outside to check the horses.
Muddy manes- such a mess!
We’ll be workin’ those tangles out today.
Pasture’s been so blessed!
cowboy–cowgirl poetry, I’m intrigued! And, you’ve achieved that today. Bravo!
Such great doggy details — thanks so much for playing on and sharing!
Such a fun mini lesson! I love working with rhyme! I always struggled with poetry when I was in school until I realized that poetry and prose is the time where you can throw away some of those jaunting grammar rules. When I started this little poem, I originally was going in a different direction. Alas! The story took such a bit of a darker turn.
There! An invisible storm hides
behind the hope of breaking skies
The whispers of a bristled broom
hastily whisked on to costume
The upcoming disturbance that-
if you were going to chip at-
would find secrets of hushed despair
and a Truth – locked – ready to snare
but the Wise One waits for the cue-
although she is equipped chew-
as the Tempest builds broad and grows
Soon facts and flaws will juxtapose
Boil boil toil and trouble! Love what happened here 🙂
Never thought of myself as a poet but since we have the students writing poetry, I need to stretch myself as a learner. This is based on my twin daughters.
Sixteen Summer
Staying up late and sleeping in
Texting with a friend
Lazy, lazy summer days
We wish would never end.
Decisions about our future selves
What we’ll do or who we’ll be
Postponed until the school year
For now we are carefree.
Our choices are much simpler now
Movies, Concerts, Sleepovers and fun
Swim at the beach or in the pool
Until the summer’s done.
I love this. I don’t yet have a teenager, but a late tween and the end of 6th grade was drama filled. Summer has been so much easier. You captured this so well.
So many of today’s poems capture summer — and our kids during summer vacation. I just love these! Thanks so much for sharing….
Thank you for such a fun prompt today, Liz! I started out thinking about one of the elderly characters in my WIP when I started this poem this morning. But as its evolved today, the poem, it turns out, is speaking to me. I am the “you” in the poem. It is a realization that all my family genealogy research and questions of my elders are not sufficient to “know” them, I need to just be with them and love. Oh, and I cheated and made it 14 lines (a sonnet). Sorry, to not follow directions.
Fossil
Am I just tide marks on an ancient shore?
Are you Anning unearthing the debris,
proof of past life deposited in ore,
packed full of precious elements to free?
Hoping to reconstruct my history
you chisel and dust around my dry bones
and hammer only empty cavities
never attaining the marrow that groans.
Alas, my soul cannot be held by stone
in the earth’s quarry for you to appraise,
picking out the most well-preserved bones,
mud-drowned, leaking tracery of my days.
Now, put down your chisel and hold my hand.
Being heart to heart shows you who I am.
I just LOVE people who don’t follow directions 🙂 Also, what great language here — cavities, debris, appraise. Thanks so much for sharing…
Liz – Thank you for the lesson on poetry. I love bringing this genre into the classroom. I will be using this as a lesson, so again THANKS! I plan to add this into a WIP. This will be written by an 8-year-old girl who reads dictionaries and encyclopedias “just for the fun of it”.
Lampyridae
You are a mysterious beetle bug
That is soft like a small quick hug.
You thrive in a dark, warm wet place.
You are of a very special race.
By day, you wonder the ground
By night you light and fly around
You are spectacular to see,
When you lurk around a tree.
Your light is your thought and word
That only your mate has heard
You glow a bright chartreuse green
And are the firefly that’s seen.
Fun — and such great sensual specifics. Thanks so much for playing along — and for sharing with your students!
Thank you so much Ms. Scanlon for this lesson and push of inspiration! I have recently thoroughly enjoyed My Great Good Summer and happily suffered the affects of a book hangover for several weeks, wishing I could see Paul and Ivy again!
Here is my early attempt:
A Surprise for the Teacher
First a sparkle in his eye,
A tiny blush, a grin so shy,
Fuchsia smears don’t try to hide,
Next to his sticky smile so wide.
Skinny arms outstretched to me,
Finally, I now can see,
within the worn plastic lidded case,
a pink frosted cupcake disgrace
Outward, a coo of thanks for one so sweet,
Inside, a wink at this non-treat.
A prize to carry with me to lunch,
but not with an intent to munch.
The teachers share a knowing smile,
and point me toward the garbage pile.
Noelle… Thanks so much for such kind words about my book. And for this poem too, which is a delight! Read it aloud — it IS a delight!
I used to be fairly good at writing little rhymes, but lately most of my poetry has been free verse. I think today’s exercise really stretched me, so thank you. The poem was inspired by a child’s shoe I noticed by the side of the trail as I was walking my dog. I tried to imagine its story.
The Lost Shoe
Mom was deep in conversation
As she jogged along the trail.
With Joey settled in his cart
She didn’t see me sail.
A gentle kick from Joey
Sent me flipping through the air.
A double bounce…and suddenly
No more was I a pair.
I hope that soon I will be found,
Reunited at long last
With Joey and his little foot –
My adventure in the past.
This is charming! I love the shoe \”sailing\”. My oldest daughter often returned shoeless from a stroller ride.
No more I was a pair! What an excellent image and thought! Thank you for sharing.
Charming is indeed the word for this poem! I loved the natural rhymes. Also, how clever to write from the shoe’s perspective! Thanks for sharing.
So cute! Love the shoe perspective!
You definitely remembered how to rhyme, Rose! Thanks so much for sharing — this is lovely.
Thanks for the great mini-lesson! My poem was inspired by a trip to St. Louis last week to see my daughter perform at The Muny outdoor theatre. The weather was not on our side, and we ended up only seeing the first act – two nights in a row.
She sings, she dances
She’s living her dream.
It has taken her
over the world, it seems.
Each setting is new
Each stage is unique.
On a ship for nine months,
Or outside for a week.
I could watch her all day
It will never get old.
Even through rain
she shines, dazzling and bold.
Thanks for giving this a whirl, Julienne — this is really visceral and successful!
What a fun exercise! I love playing with rhyme and often make up poems about my students for various activities. I also write verses for birthday cards and going away songs, etc. I love the variety of poetry shared hear today. I wrote my piece quickly, trying to get across my feelings about sharing my writing publicly. This is only the third piece I’ve shared here on Teachers Write.
With pen in hand, I sit and wait,
I know that writing is my fate.
My thoughts pour out upon the page,
Released, like birds from open cage.
My memories, my deepest dreams,
My secrets and my childhood schemes,
Lie there before me, black on white,
My hand starts trembling at the sight.
How can I bare my soul to all?
Must I heed my muse’s call?
I stop, then start, then stop again.
But, write I must, or go insane!
Debbie – I relate to these feelings! I can tell from reading a few of the posts that so many of us do. I too wrote about my relationship with writing. The image of the birds flying out of the cage is poignant. Thank you for sharing it!
Thank you, Dawn! I really enjoyed this exercise. Why are we so nervous about sharing our writing? I’m so impressed with the high quality of the pieces we’re sharing. Hopefully, this camp will help us to overcome our nerves!
This is just THE PERFECT piece for you to share, right? Thanks for your openness and courage! I really enjoyed it….
I’m actually a very good speller!!! Pardon my error * hear* instead of *here*.
Hello Liz,
Thank you so much for the lively lesson. I enjoyed writing about yesterday’s train ride on the Bluegrass Railroad of Versailles, KY.
Thanks for playing along, Karol!
It’s just a silly little rhyme:
My Cat
I’m always saying, “Oh, you silly cat!”
But I wonder, where’s the truth in that?
My cat is smart, not silly at all-
Happy chasing a spot of light on the wall,
Completely content basking in the sun
Or in full motion on a tearing run.
My cat can be so independent, but
When he wants attention, he’s insistent.
It may be silly how he sometimes acts,
But he gets my love when he curls on my lap.
That cat worked his way into my heart-
What do you think? Isn’t that smart?
Having three such cats who did the same to me, I love this poem. Thanks for sharing it!
Your poem spoke to me. I didn’t want our cat when we got her, but Miss Cleo has worked her way into my heart. She is smart!
Dr. Seuss didn’t do too badly with silly little rhymes about a silly little cat 🙂 Thanks so much for sharing!
Wow! This was difficult. I started this morning, but left it alone while I had a team meeting. Coming back was good, but it was still difficult!
Here’s is my attempt:
They are daughters three
who long to be free
They all are precious
yet so ferocious
The first is mature
confident that’s for sure.
She loves to perform
and read until morn.
Anxiousness is next.
She is so complex.
Animals and art
Calm her annoyed heart.
Last is the small child.
Oh is she so wild.
Sports make her smile
with her very own style
Anna – This line caught me -“anxious is next” and I was drawn into the poem. It’s the line that let me know each part was about one child. What a wonderful idea.
I really liked the three stanzas about your daughters and how, in a few words, you’ve shown their personalities.
So specific and I feel like I know all three. Glad you pushed through the challenge!
I just don’t do poetry
Please don’t make me write in verse
Or force me to create a rhyme
Writing in school’s been a curse
That I flub up every last time
I’d rather write a story
With funny kids and potty jokes
Or something really gory
For kids, and not you teacher folks
I don’t enjoy your red ink
That fills margins overflowing
It only says how much I stink
And stops my love from growing
Greg – I love this. I had a feeling someone besides me would struggle with this! And then I found yours right above my post. I really appreciate your voice in this poem. The line about writing for kids, not you teacher folks is so telling. thank you for adding a smile to my day. And I’m guessing your red ink never makes kids feel bad!
Thanks for the kind words. I actually enjoy writing poems (and sometimes adding rhymes), but tried to do theis one from the pov of a student. Also decided to no spend too much time tweaking, but allow the poem to just be.
Greg–I love how you found a topic for a poem in not wanting to write one. And I disagree with your statement that you don’t “do” poetry–You just did! This would be a great experience/process to share with your students. Thanks for stepping up to the plate and for sharing your fine effort.
ha ha — this is so great, and so true. poetry is so daunting to so many writers. share this poem with your students before your poetry unit this year — they’ll love it!
I could not write a poem
And if you asked me I wouldn’t show ’em.
I do not like this poetry!
I’d rather be attacked by fleas.
Sorry–your poem reminded me of Green Eggs and Ham and I was inspired. Nice job, GA.
Your narrator reminds me a little of Jack from Love That Dog – unwilling to write poetry but with so much to say!
Hi All! Thank you Liz for the challenge. I’ve never felt super confident about any writing, and especially not poetry. So I used this poem to express just that. It’s a reflection of me, not of TW or the assignment!
I did not want to write this poem today
It’s intimidating me. Why? you say
I find this form of writing very hard
My hackles came up so high, I’m on guard
Writing has become a frenemy now
Spending my time with her, then ouch. And how!
I cannot find right ideas, or even words
They came one time but ran away in herds
With me, my son spent time, wrote poetry
We used music, now it’s no help for me
I’ll do it, for today I want to soar
But deep inside, so afraid I’m a bore
Dawn – you made me laugh! Loved this so much, especially how much your voice shines through!
Far from bored! I enjoyed the quality of writing as well as the courage of sharing. Bravo!
Oh, Dawn — I love this! Especially hackles and frenemy. Thanks so much for pushing through the resistance. I love it!
Liz, thank you for this informative and fun lesson! I feel that it has helped me learn some keys to teaching poetry to my third graders. I appreciated your explanations on how to choose rhymes, and also how to attend to the meter of your poem. I especially liked your point about choosing rhymes that make no sense. This happens often when writing rhyming poetry with third graders, so I will appreciate sharing this wisdom with them!
I had fun with this and chose a topic that is related to one of my big missions this summer- to declutter my house. The title of my poem is the title of the book that I reference in the poem (the one that set me on this mission!).
The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying
I have KonMari fever!
The house is pulled apart.
I am a big believer,
that my clutter must depart!
The book I read was magic.
Bags and bags have left my house.
But, my husband thinks it’s tragic,
even though he does not grouse.
Still, he cannot help but wonder,
Will there be an end to this?
What is this spell she’s under?
She keeps saying this is bliss!
Dalila, I love it! Wish you’d come to my house though!
My mother-in-law bought me this book! (I was a little insulted until I started reading!) Thanks for playing along and also, for sharing this process with your students!
Delila – Wonderful. And I can really see using it with students to share with them about using cotidian things as a source for writing
Rinse, repeat, cliche-driven phrases
Plague the mind in its summertime lazes,
In “Teacher’s Write!” when results are for real,
This writer lives on a banana peel.
So why in the world am I stuck in a box,
When my mind is convinced that my best writing rocks?
Does vanity stand in the place of true fact,
Or is it belief in myself that he lack?
One thing that’s now known: it’s no time like today
To start on a path to decide either way.
A person will know if he’s got what it takes
in cliche-addled dreamland, if he starts, then he wakes…
To committing himself to the joy of the chase,
Who knows? Yes, perhaps he will find his own pace
And actually write a brief passage that matters
To own some small proof and replace baseless chatters.
The proof, as they say, in pudding is found,
And pudding I’ll make, perhaps by the pound.
And when this time ends, and it’s reckoning day,
Will a phrase or a paragraph live? Who can say?
Oh, Matthew — I’m pretty sure that almost every writer could print this one out, tape it to their mirror, and relate 🙂 Thanks so much for playing along!
Finding inspiration for a poem in decluttering is sheer genius–or madness! You should send a copy of your poem to the author–I bet he/she would love it! This really is a fabulous example of finding a writing topic in mundane, everyday life. Thanks for sharing!
(this is to go with my WAP, in which there is a conversation going on between the teacher and the student throughout).
Really, Mrs. Doyle, a rhyming poem? Isn’t this a bit juvenile? I mean, come on, we did rhyming poems back in 3rd and 4th grade. Not sure how this is going to help you to get to know us any better, but here goes. This is actually not my experience, but my older cousin, Kelly has told me about this and it sounds so delightful. I only wish I had been born sooner so I could have been part of it. ~Krisanna
Looking for Deer
In summer, spring, and early fall we’d pile in cars to look,
For deer in fields, and meadows of grass, or pausing by a brook.
Just as the sun started to set and stars began to show.
Parents, uncles, aunts, and cousins would surely all want to go.
We’d pack into the wagon with Daddy behind the wheel,
With 12 or 13 of us inside, we knew how sardines feel.
I would sit way in back, looking out the dirty window,
But soon as Daddy rolled it down we would watch the shadows grow.
“A quarter for the sharpest eyes, the first to spy a deer!”
Uncle Red would always offer us, and soon one gave a cheer,
“There’s a deer, I’m sure of it – right there, by the maple tree,”
The car would slow so all could see, while the winner grinned in glee.
The deer would lift its head and flick its tail to show concern,
“That one’s a buck,” somebody would say, and all would want a turn,
Binoculars would make the rounds from young to older hand,
Those times were joyous, and so surreal, those memories so grand.
I love your poem, and I love the idea to have this in your WIP.
This is lovely — sort of a cousin to the book “Owl Moon,” right? Thanks so much for writing and for sharing!
Red galoshes on your feet
Umbrella close at hand
Watery pools on the street
Drenched and soggy land.
Jump into the biggest one,
Hurry! Take a leap.
Splashing, stomping. So much fun!
Find one that\’s really deep.
Summer rain on a July day
No reason to be blue
Puddle-hopping makes good play
Once the storm blows through.
This is so quirky and fun!
I almost can feel the splash of that puddle!
SO much fun and very illustratable. Thanks so much for playing along, and for sharing.
I am new to this group so this is my first writing assignment. Very excited!
Green Veggies
Broccoli is my favorite,
spinach my #2.
When it come to veggies,
only green will do!
I crunch and munch,
eat them cooked or raw.
When I’m home alone,
I eat them all!
My health is good.
Of course you say.
We all should eat
green veggies each day!
Thank you for the great exercise Liz!
I enjoyed your poem. You made me want to go eat some green vegetables even though it is close to 8 at night.
Yay, Linda! So glad you started with this one — I love it 🙂
Hi, Liz.
I’m not much of a poet, and when I do attempt to write, it’s always free verse. Rhyming is not my forte, but I did give it a go.
On Display
The circle widens as more people come
A crowd such as this I would not find at home
Children are screaming and running amuck
America passes by along the sidewalk
The rumble and roar of Harleys overpowers
The weather report does not call for showers
“Lemonade!” the girls shout from their homemade stand
Salesmen stroll by with light up toys in hand
No mosquitoes but June bugs hover ‘round trees
Overhead brown bats swoop in for a free meal
Then all grows still ‘cept for ahs and ooos
As fireworks burst forth into glorious blooms
I really appreciated your use of “slant” and “near” rhymes here — way to make it work for you! Thanks for playing along…
Hooray Wendy!
What a way to turn Fourth Fireworks into a wonderful memory. Write more poetry!
Bluegrass Train
It’s travel time stepping back
Heading for the railroad track
Bluegrass country green and neat
Ticket for an old train seat
Conductor waves to hail
At all the folks without fail
Blasting horn not too subtle
Now, tardy stragglers hustle
All aboard the Bluegrass Train
Hot and muggy but no rain
This train travels really slow
Clickity Clack, Here we go!
I can hear the banjo! I just love the details here — thanks so much for playing along and sharing.
This prompt was such a stretch for me. I finally just wrote what I was feeling about writing a rhyming poem. I now have better understanding of what my students go through when they try to force a rhyme. Thank you.
Writing Poetry
Writing poetry is hard for me
But rhyming poetry is the absolute pits.
I can’t think of anything to write
Except for a few little bits.
I don’t have the quick wit of Dr. Seuss
And I’m not good with puns
So writing rhyming poetry
For me is no fun.
I wish my poetry was like friends
Either silver or gold
But when I write in verse
There’s no beauty to behold.
Good for you for pushing through and doing it anyway. That means you’re a real writer 🙂 It does help us sympathize with students, doesn’t it? Thanks for sharing….
What a great way to end my day. I spent the day in my hometown after attending a funeral there for an old family friend. It brought back a lot of memories, and using the rhyming assignment helped me to process a bit of the day.
Stepped back into childhood this afternoon.
Started off with a trip through five –
Visited streets and schools where my sister and I planted roots.
Now apartments grow where playgrounds once thrived.
Relived 10 at an old favorite restaurant.
Shared family style platters with two boys, now men
while trading stories about jobs and kids
that would have passed for tall tales back then.
And lastly, on to the home where I spent my teens.
Drove by slowly, gawking at the strangely familiar from the car.
If I could, I’d tell the girl who lived behind that window
that she’ll make it through and one day glance back from afar.
I hope to play around with it more in the future and maybe add a few more stanzas with more specific imagery of the places I visited down memory lane today.
Thanks for the opportunity!
Thanks for sharing all these tender memories and details. I DO hope you’ll continue playing — why not?
I didn’t think I would be able to do this, because sometimes it can take forever to find the right rhyme. But this is what I came up with, inspired by my after dinner activity!
Pull and pick, pick and pull,
These stinkers have to go.
They’re taking up the space
Where real plants want to grow.
Another and another,
I twist and yank some more.
Ripping out the weeds
‘Till my fingers are quite sore.
I stand back to admire,
my tidy garden bed,
full of re-discovered colors
in purple, pink and red.
As I lean a little closer,
My pride is tinged with gloom,
Because one sunny yellow flower
is a cheeky weed in bloom.
Thanks for the challenge! I don’t know if anyone else found this helpful, but there is an online rhyme dictionary where you can type in a word to get its rhymes. It’s been useful for me with many poetry attempts (especially writing poems for my class). Here’s the link:
http://www.rhymezone.com/
Nice! I love the last stanza, especially “tinged with gloom” and “cheeky weed in blood”. So good!
A poem for every gardener — thanks for writing and for sharing! Also, yes — rhymezone (and rhyming dictionaries) are so helpful and perfectly legal!
The best part of getting this in so late is the amazing posts ahead of mine! So fun! What a challenge.
Here goes!
Untitled
Distracted by Buzzfeed and Facebook,
we don’t give our own past a good look.
Real stories are hiding in plain sight,
If we only log off, reunite
with the ones with the stories to tell
of the people who here used to dwell.
Thous’nd words an old photo is worth
but backstories they cannot unearth.
So sit down with your parents and ask
‘bout the stories that make up their past,
Or the tales of your roots will be gone
then to what will your children hold on?
Oh, isn’t this the truth! So glad you wrote and shared. Now to log off and tune into our own stories….
Wow! Rhyming is NOT easy! After trying several poems that didn’t work at all, I decided to write a poem about the character from the story I’m working on:
She’s got curly brown hair that’s hard to tame,
And a tag-along cat with an unusual name.
Always bare-footed and ready for fun,
Toting a fishin’ pole and her daddy’s shotgun.
Raising chickens and ducks and nibbling goats,
She loves to ride horses and tip over boats.
She fights back when the red rooster attacks
And is ready to help when the hay bales need stacked.
Skinned knees and bruises don’t stop her at all,
Watch out ’cause she won’t back down from a brawl.
Don’t underestimate what she can do.
You think girls can’t do that? You haven’t a clue.
Great idea, Holly! (And you squeezed yours in just under the wire–better than me ;-{ ) You captured so much of your character’s spunk and spirit. Are you doing to tell us what book it is?
This is rich with details telling me so much about the grit and spunk of your character! I’d read about this girl anytime! My students would love her also!
OOh! I think I’m going to like this girl! Loved the line, “And a tag-along cat with an unusual name.”
Holly — This is SO detailed and perfectly imagistic — I just love it. Thanks for sharing!
I walk along the sandy shore,
Eyes scan the horizon once more.
The gentle waves lap at my feet
In and out, never miss a beat.
Longing for carefree days of old,
When my bones felt no hint of cold.
Wispy clouds floating through the sky,
On tippy toes, I stretch high.
And once more soar on eagles’ wings,
Anticipating greater things.
But for now I bask in the sun,
Biding my time, till my work’s done.
My favorite part is when your idea spans the second and third stanza and continues. I wonder if you even need a period at the end of the second stanza. Very cool.
Such a resonant summer poem — thanks so much for playing and for sharing!
It’s been a while since I’ve written such structured poetry. If I write, it tends to be more a/b/c/b. But here was my effort.
Reading While it Rains
The rain on the roofs
Clomps like horse’s hoofs.
An idyllic day
Being held at bay.
Do I sit and stare?
Do I grimace or glare
At this thief of sun
For chasing my fun?
No! I cuddle in
And over the din
I’m lost for an age
With each turn of the page.
I loved each line, and especially some of your descriptors. Comparing rain to the clomping from a horse is brilliant! Describing the rain as “a thief of sun chasing your fun” was perfect!
I, too, loved “a thief of sun.” I liked the process of reconciliation with the rain throughout your poem. Well done!
“this thief of sun” is absolutely lovely! thanks for writing and sharing!
Thanks all for taking the time to read.
One of our favorite read alouds is ZORGAMAZOO. Written entirely in rhyme, it is a humorous sci-fi for MG students that feels like a Seussian novel. A real treat to read!
I don’t know this one! I’ve already ordered from library — thank you!
I sat on this poem for a day before I shared it. Teacher’s Write is really stretching me! http://simplylearningtogether.blogspot.com/2015/07/slice-of-lifeteachers-write-feeling.html
Lovely, Kendra. Stretching is good!! I especially like the way you laid this out!
Inspired by my son and the only stuffed toy my son loves, Sheepie, who really does travel with us on any trip we take…
A new adventure,
A new place to see.
We’re gonna travel the world,
My boy and me.
Dig our toes in some sand
Swim and splash in the sea.
We’re gonna travel the world,
My boy and me.
Cuddle and doze on an airplane
Fly as high as can be.
We’re gonna travel the world,
My boy and me.
Meet a mouse at a castle
Have some lunch with Winnie.
We’re gonna travel the world,
My boy and me.
Wherever the next journey
Takes him,
Right there I’ll be.
We’re gonna travel the world,
My boy and me.
So much incredible, beautiful, fun poetry here! Here’s my little, silly contribution:
It’s so hard for me to write a poem
When given a command
It makes me think about my kiddos
E’ry time I make demands
Do their hearts beat fast?
Do their palms sweat?
Are their brains swirling?
Are their pits all wet?
Next time I promise I’ll think it through
When I’m the one in charge
Some compassion and lots of patience
To keep them on full charge!
Thank you for the mini-lesson, Liz! I am a day late, but thought I would go ahead and post my attempt at the assignment. I decided to re-work an acrostic poem I wrote as a classroom model into a rhyming poem. Here is what I came up with:
Hummingbird, Thrumming Bird
He flies, buzzes, and disappears
A vibrant green gem
That whirrs near my ears
Then stops to rest on a stem.
He darts, he dashes and thrums
Beat by wingbeat
He works as he hums.
He glides, so swift and so fleet.
He flashes, hovers, and flits
He wraps up his search
For the juicy bits
Then mutely lands on a perch.
Late to the party, but this was HARD!
In The News
Every day for 90 years
The papers arrived in threes.
The Examiner, Times, and The WSJ,
Littered by his knees.
He pored o’er every article,
Reciting facts within.
Only to finish late at night,
And tomorrow, start again.
The joy he took in reading
Inspired me from the start.
I’d mine the ink in articles,
To feed my curious heart.
Together we prowled the pages,
Stalked politics and sports,
Stocks and bonds, and local news
And the comics, too, of course!
The paper made him brilliant.
He could speak on anything.
Like Vietnam and baseball,
And Spain’s most recent king.
Juan Carlos is no longer.
And time has marched along.
And Daddy now is older.
No longer big and strong.
He still enjoys his paper
But three’s too much to read
Still, daily he pores over
Each line with wanton greed
On the downside, he’s forgetting.
In fact, he’s gotten weak.
On the upside, he’s been reading,
Sunday’s paper here all week.
I know I’m super late but this is what I wrote as I reflected on my summer of teaching teachers across the US this summer. I’ve been inspired by so many of my students from the past seven years.
It’s not about my Name
Gone for a month, I’m out.
That plane sweeps me away.
There are faces I’ll miss no doubt
But I must go; I cannot stay.
I have a story to tell,
Split second blips of fame,
Lessons I learned and how I fell.
I know it’s not about my name.
It’s those faces I miss.
They propel me to speak.
Their voices replace my silence,
giving me courage to reach this peak.
Summer In Maine
Summer sun scales the sky
Choir birds sing on high
Canoe glides in water blue
Over loons darting through
Skunks trundle through cool nights
Owls swoop from soaring heights
Dew collects on grassy tips
Crickets hop and take their sips
Buoys mark the trapping spots
Lobsters fill the whistling pots
On the beaches folks lay low
Forgetting all the winter snow
That is glorious, Dean! I loved it.