Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by the talented Carol Varsalona at Beyond Literacy Here. Stop by, she always has wonderful poetry to share.
And so do I today. Thank you Jone Rush MacCullough for organizing the postcard swap, to celebrate the New Year with poems. Here are two lovely gifts I received this week. This postcard was sent by Mary Lee:
On the back was this haiku:
each flame provides light
we illuminate this world
us all--together
Mary Lee Hahn
Maybe Mary Lee is referring to Poetry Friday bloggers. She could be. I’m so grateful to feel welcome and part of this group.
And from Linda Mitchell came a Christmas ornament inspired by one of Sara Teasdale’s poems:
There will Be Stars
There will be stars over the place forever;
Though the house we loved and the street
we loved are lost,
Every time the earth circles her orbit
On the night the autumn equinox is crossed,
Two stars we knew, poised on the peak of mid-night
Will reach their zenith; stillness will be deep;
There will be stars over the place forever,
There will be stars forever, while we sleep.
by Sara Teasdale
Dark of the Moon (1926)
On the sky colored star-shaped ornament that Linda made is a haiku inspired by “There will be stars.”
stillness will be deep
stars forever while we sleep
circles on the night
Linda Mitchell
Linda also added another poem:
Between joy and sorrow,
all I need to do is look up
to know the stars are above you too.
Remember to look up.
Happy New Year!
2022
Linda Mitchell
I was so thrilled to get these in my mailbox and so grateful.
No matter what happens this year, there will be stars.
Stay well, Everyone. Thank you, Carol, for hosting Poetry Friday!
Welcome to the last Poetry Friday of 2021, this week hosted by Carol Here. Thank you, Carol, for hosting! Happy Holidays to all. I for one am ready to welcome in a new year.
A couple of week ago the Poetry Princesses presented a prompt to write a poem that has to do with bells. You can find out more about this group of poets on Laura Purdie Salas’ blog Here.
The first thing that came to mind, since I live near Syracuse, are what used to be known as “salt bells.” They were used to warn of bad weather.
In the 1800’s, when the solar salt industry boomed in the Fingerlakes of NY, the salty brine that bubbled up from under the lakes held valuable salt.
One hundred and fifty years ago, thousands of 14 foot long shallow wooden vats covered acres of land around Syracuse. In these vats, salt water was evaporated leaving piles of salt. It was plentiful and the main source of salt for the Union Army in the 1860’s. Salt profits had built the Erie Canal. Men would rake it up the salt and place it in willow baskets to be dried and shipped away by Canal boat or railcar.
Men raking salt in solar salt vats. The rolling covers sit on the left
But rain would ruin salt. So, if rain clouds threatened, the salt boss in the salt yard would ring the salt bell and everyone, even the dogs, so they said, would run to roll the covers over the vats and save the precious salt.
I once wrote a story about a salt dog, and I tried to write a poem about the salt bell, but didn’t find it poetic enough. Instead, I wrote another poem about bells.
I thought of the ways bells are useful, from gathering people together, locating animals, entertaining, warning of danger, etc. And I was surprised at all the vocabulary for bell sounds.
Merry Christmas and welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Buffy Silverman Here. Thank you, Buffy, for hosting. I’m looking forward to finding out what Buffy has in store for us!
In 2014, I published a story in the Holiday Issue of Highlights for Children entitled “Tulip Lane Holidays.” It’s the story about a little boy, who happens to celebrate Christmas, and how he befriends his next door neighbor, an elderly Jewish woman. I actually love this story and had been wondering whether it was available on the Internet. So I Googled the title and discovered that Highlights had made the story into an audio book that is available Here. So my little story lives on!
This week I received this lovely photo and poem “Into the Light” from Janet Fagel. It made me think of how “light” can be a metaphor for many things, emotional or intellectual, and we can let the light in or not.
Into the Light
In dark moments
Sparks of brightness shoot
Towards hearts.
Candles’ glow sings
Notes we can hear,
If we listen,
Light can change
Everything
If we let it.
Janet Fagel
December 2021
My was finally decorated and this clown is my favorite ornament, hand made by the wife of a very sweet elderly man, the proprietor of an Irish pub, who I saw in my medical clinic in Syracuse, quite a while ago, when I was an intern. She made me two little clowns, like the one in the photo, and they show up every year to boost my Christmas spirit.
Merry Christmas to all, stay well, and thank you, Buffy, for hosting.
Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Jone Macullough Here. Thank you , Jone, for hosting. Be sure to stop by and see what she has for us today.
This has been a busy week and I didn’t post yesterday, on Thursday, as I usually do. I wrote cards, baked stollen with my friend, Leah, and spent a morning at a day surgery center in Watertown, NY, while my husband, Bart, had a carpal tunnel release of his wrist. It was a minor thing, though no surgery is minor to the person who has to have it. It went well and we are so grateful to the medical and nursing staff who continue to work, helping people everyday in the midst of this pandemic.
Now we are ready to move on and soon, this pine will be ready for Christmas.
I hadn’t prepared for Poetry Friday this week, but I wanted to share something. so I found an old notebook where I scribble down things, bits of poetry I write or find here and there. I found this:
For me, winter is a time to slow down. I look forward to it.
I have more time to read, and I want to share this book by Omar El Akkad. I heard him speak two weeks ago at Colgate University as part of their Living Writer’s series. If you don’t know about this series, check it out. All the author’s talks and readings are shared on line and it costs nothing.
El Akkad is a journalist, born in the Middle East, who has traveled and lived in several Arab, so many that he himself has always felt stateless. His amazing book, WHAT STRANGE PARADISE, is about a Syrian boy, Amir, who washes up on the shore of a Western European island (probably Greek) and rescued by a teenage girl. If you ever wonder what it might be like to be a refugee, this author makes you feel it and understand the terrible risk taken by so many who flee, so many who are children.
Have a healthy week, everyone and thank you, Jone, for hosting!
Welcome to Poetry Friday! This week we are hosted by Cathy at her blog: Merely Day by Day HERE. Stop by and find out what she has for us this week.Thank you, Cathy, for hosting!
I went for a browse at a local bookstore, thinking about picture books that would make good Christmas gifts. As I love non-fiction and nature, this caught my eye. I had heard the author speak recently about how long it took for him to find a publisher for this. It puzzles me, as it seems a fascinating topic.
I AM SMOKE, written by Henry Herz and illustrated by Mercè López, is engaging and beautiful. Smoke is, of course, an integral part of recycling in nature, but smoke also is was used throughout history in religious rituals, in such things as the preparation of food the calming of bees and more.
I like the poetic language and scientific fact combined:
I am smoke.
I twirl in dark dance from every campfire.
Flickering flames work their mysterious
magic on burning branches.
I am born a whirling, roiling mist of
carbon dioxide, water vapor, and ash.
“I am smoke” is a striking beginning, personifying smoke, making it a character.
Fire and smoke is of course dangerous, too, but this book helps us get to see the other side, how it has served human beings as well. Below, we see smoke as a means of communication. Notice the colors in the art. I found the pictures haunting.
For centuries, I helped Chinese,
Native Americans of the Plains and
Southwest, and others signal one
another over long distances.
You will have to see the rest for yourself, of course, but I hope I have peaked your curiosity.
Today I will share a poem about the Christmas weather outside my window. As I wrote it it began to remind me of THE PASTURE one of my favorite poems by Robert Frost.
Have a great weekend. My husband and I have been invited to spend Christmas away with a large number of family of all ages. Not sure what to do this year. I’m vaccinated and boostered. I wonder if others are unsure as I am.
Welcome to Poetry Friday! This week we are hosted by artist and poet, Michelle Kogan, HERE. Stop by and check out what she has for us this week. Thank you Michelle for hosting!
First of all, the tragic school shooting has to be acknowledged. I’m praying for those families that are experiencing the unimaginable, for the children crying for their lost friends.
This week, on and off at my computer, I have been thinking about beginnings. After all, 2022 is about to begin and none too soon.
The calendar, of course, is totally empty. There is no choice but to arrive at January and see what will happen when we get there. Everything has a beginning. New Years Day is my favorite day of the year because it’s a beginning and I am always hopeful.
I have been writing poems on the prompt “beginnings” for a submission to an on-line journal. Human beings are always beginning something, and maybe children have even more beginnings in their daily life. I don’t know but it seems they must. But adults have more begin agains.
I didn’t submit this poem. I revised it this morning and thought it might speak to teachers.
I hope you find hope and joy in your week. Begin or begin again a few books.
Lastly, I have had good news this week. A short non-fiction essay I wrote from my childhood entitled SWIMMING TO PENNSYLVANIA, was published on line at RavensPerch.com here. I was thrilled. The piece began as a monologue for my playwriting group, but I turned it into an essay.
Happy Poetry Friday! I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving! This week we are hosted by Ruth HERE. Make sure you stop by and see what poetry goodness she has for us this week. Thank you, Ruth.
I was AWOL from my blog last week preparing for the holiday, but today is Thanksgiving Day and I would like to share a poem about a visitor we had.
He was actually tiny and cute and I’m not alone in writing about mice. Here is a well known anthology of poems about mice compiled by Nancy Larrick:
I found this charming poem by A.A. Milne:
MISSING
Has anybody seen my mouse?
I opened his box for just a minute,
Just to make sure he was really in it,
And while I was looking, he jumped outside!
I tried to catch him, I tried, I tried . . . .
I think he's somewhere about the house.
Has anyone seen my mouse?
Uncle John, have you seen my mouse?
Just a small sort of mouse, a dear little brown one,
He came from the country, he isn't a town one,
So he'll feel all lonely in a London street,
Why, what could he possibly find to eat?
He must be somewhere. I'll ask Aunt Rose:
Have you seen a mouse with a woffelly nose?
Oh, somewhere about--
He's just got out . . . .
Hasn't anybody seen my mouse?
A.A. Milne
Irene Latham posted several of Valerie Worth’s poems inspired by critters, including this one about mice, (the first two stanzas).
MICE
Mice
Find places
In places,
A dark
Hall behind
The hall,
READ THE REST HERE (AND OTHER POEMS ABOUT CRITTERS BY VALERIE WORTH)
Wishing everyone, and all critters everywhere, the best of the holiday!
Welcome to Poetry Friday, hosted by thee capable and prolific Matt Forrest Esenwine Here. Thank you, Matt for hosting!
I simply have a short poem to share. It was inspired by the climate summit. Thank you to all the heroes who attended to work on the climate crisis.
I have always been optimistic that there are people in the world with the tools necessary to avert a catastrophe. So, when I think of the trouble we’re in, I think about past and it gives me hope.
Welcome to Poetry Friday. Our host on this first week of November is Mary Lee Hahn HERE. Thank you Mary Lee! Be sure to stop by and see what she’s sharing this week.
Today, I read a pile of picture books at my local bookstore and would like to share one by a writer who is passionate about kids and books, Miranda Paul. She is one of the founders of the WNDB movement. Her book, LITTLE LIBRARIES, BIG HEROES, Illustrated by John Parra, is a book worth adding to your library. I have. It’s not just about little libraries. It’s also about following a passion, growing an idea, generosity and public service all in one. This book is for everyone.
Several weeks ago I wrote wrote about my hometown Carnegie Library Here. But one doesn’t have to have 350 million dollars to build thousands of libraries. In LITTLE LIBRARIES: BIG HEROES, we learn that some libraries can be built for much, much less and still make a big impact.
In this true story, a young man named Todd, an “ordinary guy” who had been inspired by his mom to love books, built the first little library, like the one above. Neighbors loved it. It caught on. He told his friend about it.
Todd felt his nifty box of books had potential. He called up his friend Rick, who was always chock-full of grand ideas.
Rick thought that they could
build thousands of little boxes!
Like Andrew Carnegie,
who once built 2,510 libraries!
They could take trips!
Like Lutie Stearns, who brought
traveling libraries all over Wisconsin!
Rick liked the idea, but . . .
WAIT A MINUTE!
Andrew Carnegie had been a
wealthy businessman. Lutie Stearns
was a trained librarian. The two of
them were just ORDINARY guys.
(And they were particularly low
on cash.)
How man libraries could two
ORDINARY guys create?
How far could ORDINARY people
spread an idea?
They agreed on one thing--
they wanted to find out.
So the two “ordinary” young men decided to explore their dream of creating a Little Library movement. This is their story. The result: as of 2019, there were 75,000 official, registered Little Free Libraries in eighty-eight countries.
I was touched by this book about ordinary people doing extraordinary things and making a difference. It’s an important story.
Before I close I’ll turn your attention to the changing weather and the holidays looming with three seasonal haiku:
