Make yourself comfortable while our special guest, Mary Lee Hahn, spins her magic-- a retelling of a common fairy tale in 17-syllable morsels:a Little Red Riding Hoodku.
Walter Crane (1845-1915), England
impudent mother sending your daughter alone into the forest forest has safe paths but evil lurks in shadows deceives innocence
Carl Offtendinger (1829-1889), Germany
innocence sees sun hears birds' sweet trilling leaves path for flowers flowers lead the girl into the heart of darkness cause her to forget
forget your true path even in the name of beauty invite disaster
Mary Lee came up with this brilliant not-so-little ditty as part of January's Month of Poetry challenge, organized by Australian poet and children's author, Kathryn Apel. Many thanks, Mary Lee, for bringing it with you to the Haiku Garden today!
It's said that the best teachers are also the best learners. Mary Lee is certainly proof of that theory. I have so much respect for Mary Lee, not only because she is able to wear teacher, blogger, and poet hats simultaneously (and wear them well), but because, for her, that is never enough. She makes it a priority to seek out new ways to develop her skills and talents in all of these areas. It seems like she's always doing one kind of challenge or another in order to stretch her limits, expand her horizons, or somehow better herself. Fortunately for the rest of us, we often benefit too!
Last week, my Five for Friday party was the best yet. With twenty Valentine kisses collected on one page, it was heartwarming to see the delicious variety of lip-smacking ditties. If you participated or visited, thank you! And if you haven't read all twenty, I invite you to go bask in all the smoochy goodness.
Today I am sharing the kiss of a special book-- Nikki Grimes' Words with Wings.
Words with Wings Wordsong, September 1, 2013
ISBN: 978-1590789858
Words with Wings is the story of Gabby, a girl who is prone to daydreaming, and her teacher, Mr. Spicer, who helps her to channel her imagination's wanderings. I love how this book celebrates creativity, friendship, and a child's indomitable spirit, and also showcases the talents of an exceptional teacher. Narrated in verse that is beautiful, accessible, and above all, honest, these are adjectives that can also be used to describe the author of this well-crafted story.
I recently had the pleasure of meeting Nikki Grimes in person. The event, which included a reading and an opportunity for questions, was sponsored by our wonderful local Friends of the Library volunteer organization. (Let's hear it for community book lovers!)
Of course it was wonderful to hear Nikki read her own words, but what I enjoyed even more was the discussion that followed-- getting to know this award-winning poet on a more personal level, discovering the connections between Nikki's own childhood and that of main character Gabby, hearing Nikki's thoughts on the best way to teach poetry (NOTE TO TEACHERS: "Do not present poetry as castor oil!"), and the whole Q&A smorgasbord of poetry, process, and publishing.
I appreciated Nikki's honest and approachable rapport with the adults in the audience, but what struck me most was the way she responded to children's questions. Maybe I'm imagining it, but I'd swear I saw a twinkle appear in her eye. This was also my 11-year-old daughter's impression when Nikki Grimes visited her school the following day. She was captivated by Nikki's presence, by the way she drew her into the story with her compelling reading-- using not only the words, but the pauses in between, and by the way Nikki made her feel "special" and "important" just because they were together at that moment in time.
Children are Nikki Grimes' number one priority. Her
books are the angels that sit on kids' shoulders, telling them, no, you are not alone.
Here is one of my favorite pieces from Words with Wings, used with the author's permission:
Cheri
The kids at my last school
called me weird,
and teased me,
or left me to myself.
Except for Cheri,
who picked me
to sit next to
in kindergarten
just because she saw me
staring out the window
and was dying to know
what made me smile
when all she saw
were raindrops.
I was shy about
telling her at first,
but Cheri didn't mind
my daydreaming.
She was color-blind, but said
whenever I described
my daydreams,
it was like
helping her see
the rainbow.
-Nikki Grimes, all rights reserved.
Thank you, Nikki, for helping others to see the rainbow as well.
It's always beautiful weather for poetry! Please pay a visit to Karen Edmisten who is hosting today's Poetry Friday roundup.
Back when I was single, Valentine's Day rarely lived up to expectations. What, for me, was a day to be dreaded, mocked, or secretly fantasized about, I realize now, should never have been taken so seriously. That is, unless you happen to have a fetish for pagan party life.
"The lovers' holiday traces its roots to raucous annual Roman festivals
where men stripped naked, grabbed goat- or dog-skin whips, and spanked
young maidens in hopes of increasing their fertility," said classics
professor Noel Lenski of the University of Colorado at Boulder."
Whoa. Bet you didn't know that! And if you're into that kind of thing... ? Well, I don't need to know, thanks anyway.
Nowadays, Valentine's Day is driven less by whips, and more by retailers, but I still would like to support the heart, if not the history, of the occasion. I prefer to think of this day as being set aside to express our appreciation for all the special ones in our lives... not just the ones who bring home flowers and chocolate. This can be done simply with a hug, a kiss, a note, a few extra minutes, a rub behind the ears, or maybe just a "thank you" that we didn't forget to say.
That's why, for today's Five for Friday party, I would like to thank the whole Poetry Friday community by sharing kisses-- smooches and smacks, pecks and puckers, snuggles and squeezes. Think of it as a spin-the-bottle block party! To join in, please describe a kiss of any kind by using five words or less (plus title if you like) and leave it in the comments. I will then move them here so we can all enjoy the Valentine amour together.
I also hope you will show Linda Baie some love for hosting today's Poetry Friday roundup. You can find her at TeacherDance.
I get in line in front
of Leo and his 'fro.
On the stairs the class pauses.
I tip my head back as far
as it will go. Leo
drops a juicy kiss
right between my eyebrows.
We continue to the Music room
where we sing
"The child is black;
the child is white..."
-Heidi Mordhorst, my juicy little universe (For this, I will give her all the lines and words she needs!)
CAT KISS
Instant
laugh
bonus
facial
exfoliation.
-Diane Mayr, Random Noodling
The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough. ~Rabindranath Tagor
The annual migration of monarch butterflies to Mexico is one of nature's most awe-inspiring spectacles. After Matt Forrest Esenwine's beautiful haiku from earlier this week, I wanted to spend a little more time with these regal creatures. For those of you who have never seen migration footage, here is a video taken at El Rosario Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary in 2011.
The video opens with a statement that 150 million monarchs came back in the 2010-2011 season despite a devastating cold storm that killed off millions. Since then, the monarch population has faced much worse threats, causing their numbers to plunge in 2013 to the lowest level in at least 20 years. This is according to an article in the New York Times from March of last year. The article goes on to say that while the monarchs' plight is not yet at a crisis point, there are things we can and must do with regard to replenishing milkweed and changing some farming practices. Once again, humans are pushing the limits of what our planet can sustain.
And on that note, I'd like to leave you with this poem by Joan Murray:
Chrysalis
by Joan Murray
1
It's mid-September, and in the Magic Wing Butterfly Conservancy
in Deerfield, Massachusetts, the woman at the register
is ringing up the items of a small girl and her mother.
There are pencils and postcards and a paperweight--
all with butterflies--and, chilly but alive,
three monarch caterpillars--in small white boxes
with cellophane tops, and holes punched in their sides.
The girl keeps rearranging them like a shell game
while the cashier chats with her mother: "They have to
feed on milkweed--you can buy it in the nursery outside."
"We've got a field behind our house," the mother answers.
The cashier smiles to show she didn't need the sale:
"And in no time, they'll be on their way to Brazil or Argentina--
or wherever they go--" ("to Mexico," says the girl,
though she's ignored) "and you can watch them
do their thing till they're ready to fly."
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16237#sthash.6Eqs0Y07.dpuf
Chrysalis
by Joan Murray
1
It's mid-September, and in the Magic Wing Butterfly Conservancy
in Deerfield, Massachusetts, the woman at the register
is ringing up the items of a small girl and her mother.
There are pencils and postcards and a paperweight--
all with butterflies--and, chilly but alive,
three monarch caterpillars--in small white boxes
with cellophane tops, and holes punched in their sides.
The girl keeps rearranging them like a shell game
while the cashier chats with her mother: "They have to
feed on milkweed--you can buy it in the nursery outside."
"We've got a field behind our house," the mother answers.
The cashier smiles to show she didn't need the sale:
"And in no time, they'll be on their way to Brazil or Argentina--
or wherever they go--" ("to Mexico," says the girl,
though she's ignored) "and you can watch them
do their thing till they're ready to fly."
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16237#sthash.6Eqs0Y07.dpuf
Chrysalis
by Joan Murray
1
It's mid-September, and in the Magic Wing Butterfly Conservancy
in Deerfield, Massachusetts, the woman at the register
is ringing up the items of a small girl and her mother.
There are pencils and postcards and a paperweight--
all with butterflies--and, chilly but alive,
three monarch caterpillars--in small white boxes
with cellophane tops, and holes punched in their sides.
The girl keeps rearranging them like a shell game
while the cashier chats with her mother: "They have to
feed on milkweed--you can buy it in the nursery outside."
"We've got a field behind our house," the mother answers.
The cashier smiles to show she didn't need the sale:
"And in no time, they'll be on their way to Brazil or Argentina--
or wherever they go--" ("to Mexico," says the girl,
though she's ignored) "and you can watch them
do their thing till they're ready to fly."
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16237#sthash.6Eqs0Y07.dpuf
Chrysalis
by Joan Murray
1
It's mid-September
It's mid-September, and in the Magic Wing Butterfly Conservancy
in Deerfield, Massachusetts, the woman at the register
is ringing up the items of a small girl and her mother.
There are pencils and postcards and a paperweight--
all with butterflies--and, chilly but alive,
three monarch caterpillars--in small white boxes
with cellophane tops, and holes punched in their sides.
The girl keeps rearranging them like a shell game
while the cashier chats with her mother: "They have to
feed on milkweed--you can buy it in the nursery outside."
"We've got a field behind our house," the mother answers.
The cashier smiles to show she didn't need the sale:
"And in no time, they'll be on their way to Brazil or Argentina--
or wherever they go--" ("to Mexico," says the girl,
though she's ignored) "and you can watch them
do their thing till they're ready to fly."
Next, why don't you migrate over to No Water River, where Renée LaTulippe is hosting today's Poetry Friday roundup and spreading her wings with an exciting new adventure of her own!
While some are still getting more of the wintry white stuff...
Birdfeeders in the snow. Photo by George A. Heidenrich
Others are beginning to enjoy warmer temperatures and the first signs of spring...
I'm quite sure Old Man Winter is not done with us yet (even here in North Florida), but while we enjoy a breather, I'm delighted to welcome the sunny and talented Matt Forrest Esenwine to the Haiku Garden. Many of us have been missing Matt while he recovers from an injury and his blog Radio, Rhythm, and Rhyme has been on hiatus.
It's a special treat to have you here today, Matt!
Thank you for inspiring us with this little beauty:
Ever the optimist, much of Matt's writing reflects a refreshing, hopeful, and positive tone. That's one of the things I like best about his poetry. Whether playful or heartfelt, his writing is always thoughtful and full of life. And if Matt says warmer days are coming, you can bet that I'm a believer!
If you would like to share a haiku on Today's Little Ditty in the
future, please contact me at michelle (at) MichelleHBarnes (dot) com, or
by commenting below.
