Welcome to Poetry Friday, this week hosted by Catherine Flynn Here. Make sure you stop by and find out what she has up her sleeve for us this week. Thank you for being the first host of the year!
I’ve had a reset with the new year. I’ve have returned to a few manuscripts that have been dormant for a while, with new eyes. One is a manuscript of poetry about the non-fiction topic DIGESTION, of all things.
My plan was two years ago to write a poem about “Team Digestion” that is, all the organs involved in this important endeavor. I was thinking perhaps that kids about seven might like to know where their food goes and that I might have fun writing about it. Also, no matter where you live or who you are, what happens to your food is always the same.
It was fun.
Anyway, I wrote poems, in several different forms, some of them I really like, some not so much, along with non-fiction notes to go with each.
But with this new year, I decided a prose picture book story about digestion is more suited to the topic, not to mention, way more publishable. I’ve revised and written a manuscript that I am much more excited about, more fun to read, and it captures the teamwork involved in digestion.
You’ll have to take my word for it.
But I have poems that I can share. Below is an etheree about a very important part of the team. It’s the mastermind, the liver, that takes all the thoroughly digested nutrients from the busy small intestine, and puts them together to make all the proteins and other things the body needs to grow.
An etheree is a ten line poem that starts with one syllable and ends with ten syllables. Each line grows by one syllable.
I’m excited to be part of the discussion about an exciting new non-fiction picture book :
First: HOW CAN YOU WIN A COPY? Leave a comment on the left of this post by 2/24 and a way to contact you. A name will be randomly chosen and David L. Harrison’s AFTER DARK will be sent to the winner. Spread the word about this wonderful book on Facebook, Twitter, or other favorite platform.
Harrison’s AFTER DARK will entertain, teach and, encourage kids to see themselves in the exploits and habits of 21 different nocturnal friends. Check out the great review in Publishers Weekly. In Kirkus, AFTER DARK is referred to as a “fine collection of poetic odes.” These wonderful poems beg to be read aloud, revealing the drama in the lives of creatures out and about in the dark.
For example, a poem about a deer mouse, entitled “A Night’s Work,” is a story of survival, a mouse’s dramatic close call. In Harrison’s poem, the suspense is evoked by his short lines, sentence fragments. In the accompanying illustrations by Stephanie Laberis, we see a suspenseful mini three act play. In this first illustration, above, the mouse goes about his business looking for food:
Mouse creeps
without sound--
stops, listens.
Sniffs dirt
between corn rows,
finds a kernel
snatches it--
stops,
listens.
Owl's about
stares for mouse--
Fox is out.
sniffs for mouse--
stop listen.
In the second picture below, predators approach for the kill. Will they succeed?
Cheeks bulging
mouse races
Owl plummets
Fox strikes.
Talons rip
Teeth snap
empty air.
The last, this adorable mouse has escaped his close call:
Heart pounding,
mouse bounces
down his hole
for now.
corn forgotten
in his cheeks.
Mouse is safe for now, but so scared that he has forgotten the tasty dinner he’s gathered in his cheeks.
Another poem, Night Class, about skunks shows the importance of family. For example, in this single illustration we see a family of skunks going about their business, with danger present, in this case a dog. It’s a good thing Mama’s there.
NIGHT CLASS
Mama skunk
knows the story.
Never play
in an empty street.
Danger lurks
beyond the light,
in dark doorways,
behind trash cans,
around the corner.
Mama skunk
knows the story.
Never play
in an empty street.
The street is
never empty.
Little skunks stays close to Mama. That’s how they survive.
Here’s a poem about the porcupine that would be particularly fun for two kids to read together. Short lines are paired with longer ones that feel to me like a response when read aloud. And who won’t admire the scrappy looks of this porcupine?
DON'T LET HIM
NEEDLE YOU
Eats shoots and leaves-
even bark.
If you hear him coming,
better hark.
You wouldn't want to bump him
in the dark.
He's a mind-his-own business
kind of guy.
Would rather climb than walk,
rather shy,
but thirty thousand needles
testify
to thirty thousand reasons
to pass him by.
With tooth and needle fury--
a shocking sight--
he'll battle any rival
to gain the right
to approach a waiting female
in hopes she might
accept him as her mate
tonight.
Porcupine is a “mind-his-own-business/kind of guy” who is ready to battle if threatened but when he wants to get close to a female, he awaits permission.
I think Harrison’s writing paired with these dark, sweet but a little spooky, illustrations, go beyond teaching kids just the non-fiction facts, which are clearly listed in the back matter. Children can see and feel in themselves the need for safety, to eat and survive, and for the protection of a family.
I asked David Harrison if, as he wrote, he thought about how children identify with these animals on an emotional level. He responded:
“I don’t identify with animals in any sort of spiritual way but my respect for other living things runs deep enough to be evident in my writing. On my desk or near me are skulls of a black bear, a python, and a rattlesnake plus replicas of a short-faced bear and a saber-tooth cat. . . . Now and then I think about the animals they once were, living lives that are now in the distant past. . . If I write about the short-faced bear, I want my readers to feel its size, sense its presence, understand how hearts must have beat faster when it came around. This creature was more than a fact. It was a bear!”
In AFTER DARK: Poems about Nocturnal Animals, we understand much more than the facts about these important creatures.
Poetry Friday hosted by Cheriee Weichel at Library Matters, from Vancouver, sharing her insights into children’s lit . Today she introduces us to the clever work of Vancouver Poet, Avis Harley.
