DMC: "A Grand View" by Janie Lazo

A GRAND VIEW

Sticky fingerprints
A sweet reminder of you
Window to my heart

© 2018 Janie Lazo. All rights reserved.


Click HERE to read this month's interview with Julie Fogliano. She has challenged us to stare out the window and write a poem about what we see. You might even consider writing something down every day for a week:

At the end of the week, read through what you wrote and write your favorite bits on a separate piece of paper. I bet there will be a poem in there somewhere… see if you can find it.  – J. F.

Leave your poem on our May 2018 padlet. While some contributions will be featured as daily ditties this month, all contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration tomorrow, Friday, May 25th, and one lucky participant will win a personalized copy of her stunning new picture book from Roaring Brook Press:

Book Love: GONE CAMPING

TAMERA WILL WISSINGER

Tamera Will Wissinger was one of our first spotlight authors in 2014.

We featured her picture book This Old Band , and her DMC challenge was to write parody or tribute poems. (I reposted one yesterday: B.J. Lee's "The Passonate Stallion to His Mare.") In celebration of National Poetry Month and TLD's birthday, I invited Tamera to come back and answer a few questions about her latest verse novel.

GONE CAMPING
HMH Books for Young Readers
March 28, 2017
ISBN: 978-0544638730
Find at Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble,
or via Indiebound.org.

GONE CAMPING: A Novel in Verse is a companion to her award-winning GONE FISHING (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2013). It's a delightful family story that picks up with Sam and Lucy, the same true-to-life siblings featured in the first book. While Gone Fishing was told largely from Sam's point of view (he didn't want his special fishing trip with his dad hijacked by his little sister), it's nice that Lucy shares equal billing in Gone Camping. Both kids are excited about the family camping trip, until Dad wakes up with a miserable cold! It's decided that he and Mom will stay home, while Sam and Lucy go with Grandpa instead. Uh-oh. Hesitant at first, Sam and Lucy settle into a different kind family adventure from the one they expected.








Like it's predecessor, elementary-aged kids are going to love Gone Camping for its humor and familiarity, its playful storytelling, and for Matthew Cordell's exuberant, often silly, line drawings which are more than capable of garnering giggles all by themselves. The supplemental back matter that describes the poetry "provisions"—techniques and forms—used in the writing of the book is a huge plus for both teachers and aspiring poets.



Hi Tamera! Welcome back to Today's Little Ditty!
What have you been up to since you were last here in 2014?

Wow, has it really been three years? Time leaps! Ha. In 2015 I welcomed a new poem in Janet Wong and Sylvia Vardell’s Poetry Friday Anthology for Celebrations. The poem I wrote is called "National Aviation Day" for the celebration of the same name on August 19: “On National Aviation Day we honor pilots, planes, and flight. We celebrate two brothers, Orville and Wilbur Wright…” I was also pleased to release the paperback of Gone Fishing that year. Then in 2016 my second picture book There Was an Old Lady who Gobbled a Skink arrived and last month Gone Camping: A Novel In Verse released. In between, I’ve been writing, reading, and visiting schools and conferences.

Tell us a little about your experience of writing GONE FISHING and GONE CAMPING as verse novels. Why did you choose to tell Sam and Lucy's adventures as a series of poems?

To be honest, I never considered telling the story any other way—Gone Fishing began to appear as a series of poems and I enjoyed that process, the characters, and the story (and poetry) so much that I wanted to try again with Gone Camping.


Was there anything noteworthy about your experience of writing a sequel? Did anything catch you by surprise?

The biggest aha for me was that despite having character, setting, and plotline clarity, sequel writing is trickier than beginning from scratch. For me it was striking a balance between familiarity of characters and freshness of story.


Please share a favorite selection from GONE CAMPING and tell us why it's meaningful to you.

Oh, I love how all the poems work together to tell a story, so choosing is tough. Just for Michelle, though, and for today only, I select SONG OF THE BEANIE WEENIE BARBECUE, only because of the connection to the other Will poet, Shakespeare, and because I love how Lucy really takes center stage in this one—in both text...

Text © 2017 Tamera Will Wissinger, from GONE CAMPING: A Novel in Verse,
used by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Books for Young Readers.

and Matthew Cordell’s illustration.

Illustration © 2017 Matthew Cordell, from GONE CAMPING: A Novel in Verse,
used by permission of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Books for Young Readers.

What's coming up next for you?

I’m working on a verse novel for a little older middle grade reader that’s set in the Midwest, and I also have a short chapter book that’s currently captured my attention.

You've certainly captured our attention with all of your terrific books, Tamera! Thanks so much for stopping by today.

If you want to write a parody poem for our Ditty Potluck, I'd love to see it!  Or, if a parody poem is not to your liking, choose from any of the other 27 DMC challenges. Post your poem on our April 2017 padlet and be sure to indicate which challenge you are responding to.  All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, April 28th. Individual poems shared this week were by George Heidenrich, Jessica Bigi, BJ Lee, and Jone Rush MacCulloch at Deo Writer.

Laura Purdie Salas was our debut spotlight author in May 2014, and last Wednesday I wrote about what she's been up to lately. Read about her new video course, Writer in Progress: 30 Days in the Life of a Children's Writer HERE.

Along with hosting this week's Poetry Friday roundup, Doraine Bennett is giving away five copies of HERE WE GO, by Sylvia Vardell and Janet Wong. (I'm honored to have my poem "Look for the Helpers" in that book!) Visit her at Dori Reads to enter the drawing.

If you're looking for other ways to celebrate National Poetry Month, Jama Rattigan is your go-to for NPM festivites at Alphabet Soup.

DMC: "Grandma's Ditties" by Linda Mitchell

GRANDMA'S DITTIES

In the history of ditties
there’s none so silly
as those Grandma knows
from when she was young.
Like…..

     Tap tap-tap tap tap, tap TAP!
     Shave and-a haircut, two bits

Or,
When running a bath
She makes me laugh
with a cheerful sea-side tune.

     By the sea, by the sea
     by the beautiful sea,
     you and me, you and me
     oh how happy we’ll be.

And what about
my first day of school tummy?
Full of butterfly nerves tummy?
Her wisdom in song
helps me along.

     Make new friends
     but keep the old
     one is silver
     but the other gold.

And sometimes
at bedtime
Gran is outrageous
as I pull on my PJ’s
and brush my teeth
she’ll call out a ditty
that no joke can beat.

     Fatty and Skinny had a race
     Up and down the pillow case
     Fatty shouted it’s not fair
     Skinny lost his underwear!

I giggle and wriggle
into bed for the night,
pull up the covers and
turn out the light.
Grandma sings a ditty
before I sleep:

     I love you
     a bushel and a peck
     a bushel and a peck
     and a kiss around
     the neck.

If I’m ever a Gran,
it’s my plan
to be a little silly
with those I love.
Tapping, singing, rhyming too
If there’s ever time
for a little ditty or two.

© 2016 Linda Mitchell. All rights reserved.


David L. Harrison has challenged us to write poems inspired by the word "ditty" this month. Click HERE for more details.

Send your poem to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com, or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration this Friday, February 26th, and one lucky participant will win a copy of his newest collection for children:

For an additional chance to win, write a poem inspired by "leaves" for David's Word of the Month (W.O.M.) challenge HERE. 

DMC: "Conversations With My Teenage Boy" by Tricia Stohr-Hunt

CONVERSATIONS WITH MY TEENAGE BOY

What did you do in school today?
Nothing.

What’s wrong son?
Nothing.

How was the play?
Nothing to write home about.

Complaint on the second day of summer vacation—
There’s nothing to do!

While folding his underwear in the living room—
Is nothing sacred?!

Good luck with your audition.
Here goes nothing.

How did you rip another pair of jeans?
You’re making a lot of fuss about nothing.

How mad are you mom?
I have nothing to say.

© 2016 Tricia Stohr-Hunt. All rights reserved.


Douglas Florian has challenged us to write poems about nothing this month. Read his entire spotlight interview HERE.

Send your poem to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com, or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, January 29th, and one lucky participant will win a signed copy of his adorable new picture book:

DMC: "A Little Nothing" by Katie Gast

A LITTLE NOTHING

“I’d like a little nothing”, my father said to me.
The nothing that he wanted was impossible to see.
Not animal, nor mineral, nor vegetable, but this:
The nothing that I gave him was just a little kiss.

© 2016 Katie Gast. All rights reserved.


Douglas Florian has challenged us to write poems about nothing this month. Read his entire spotlight interview HERE.

Send your poem to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com, or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, January 29th, and one lucky participant will win a signed copy of his adorable new picture book:

DMC: "LuLu Bell" by Leane Gill

LULU BELL

My new sisters name?
Why, it's LuLu Bell.
No, that's really the cat,
but, be quiet, don't tell.

Things were going just fine
until she came along.
Now I hear Daddy sing Lulu
my favorite song.

What's this I feel?
Aw, she's squeezing my hand.
It’s tiny, so precious –
makes it tough to take a stand.

Guess I’ll learn to share
even my special toys.
And be kind, learn to care,
and create new loving joys.

I think I might like her –
this new person in my life.
That's causing such a rift
in my plan to cause strife.

Oh gee, she just looked at me!
right into my eyes.
Then she went and smiled,
and made me realize-

There is plenty of room
in my heart to show love.
We each are unique
and gifts from above.

She'll color my world,
and I'll color hers back.
I'll be by her side
even sharing my snack.

We'll share good times and bad
as we go through the years.
I'll laugh when she laughs
and dry any tears.

It's a good thing, I think,
this new sister of mine.
So, no worry for me-
We're each one of a kind.

© 2015 Leane Gill. All rights reserved.

Marcus Ewert has challenged us to write love poems this month– about relationships that seem unrequited, but which end up being requited after all. Click HERE for more details.

Send your poem to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com, or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, October 30th, and one lucky participant will win an autographed copy of his fabulous new picture book:

DMC: "Turnabout is Fair Play" by B.J. Lee

Turnabout is Fair Play

“Not fair!” I was telling my mother,
“I love him, but he loves another.”
     Then, as they were wed,
     I turned someone’s head,
and now I am wed to his brother.

© 2015 B.J. Lee. All rights reserved.


Marcus Ewert has challenged us to write love poems this month– about relationships that seem unrequited, but which end up being requited after all. Click HERE for more details.

Send your poem to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com, or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, October 30th, and one lucky participant will win an autographed copy of his fabulous new picture book:

My Sister's First Haircut

There are consequences for our actions...

and few childhood pastimes drive that lesson home 

like playing hairdresser.

Who else remembers the Crissy dolls from the early '70s, with hair that "grows and grows"?

Crissy Doll

Denise Van Patten

She had a pony tail that you could pull out while pressing a button on her tummy, and wind back in by twisting the knob on her back.

Well, I cut it off.  Her pony tail.  Cut it. Right. Off.

And guess what?  It did not grow back.  Darn you, Ideal Toy Corporation!  This was not my ideal toy by a long stretch.

Fast forward 30 years when my daughter, Miranda, was born with lots of dark, straight hair, just like her mommy.  But then something miraculous (and possibly hormonal) happened-- her hair grew out in soft, loose curls.  The kind her mommy always wanted, but was never lucky enough to have.  Her doctor said it wouldn't last, but I vowed then and there that I would not be responsible for cutting it off.

(Dylan, if you're reading this, please don't feel bad... I forgave you long ago, and am since grateful for the little ditty that came of it!)

 

MY SISTER’S FIRST HAIRCUT

Today I cut my sister’s hair

(she told me to, you see)

but then my mother had a fit—

not at her, but me!

She said I should know better

since my sister’s only three.

So I just sighed and said, “Okay…

this time the cut is free.”

© 2008 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes.  All rights reserved.

With thanks to Linda Baie, whose "15 word or less" poem on Laura Purdie Salas' blog yesterday inspired today's post.

Oh, do you want to be inspired too?  Well then head over to The Poem Farm, where Amy has today's Poetry Friday roundup!

Who's up for putt-putt?

Welcome to Miniature Golf Week at Today's Little Ditty!  Didn't know it was Miniature Golf Week?  Neither did I until Laura Shovan enlightened me, bless her heart.  Actually she just told me about Miniature Golf Day, which is TOMORROW people-- get your putt on!  Miniature Golf Week was entirely my doing.  Laura was the featured poet in Limerick Alley this past Tuesday, starting us off with a delightfully goofy, golf-related ditty.  But now I'm taking that ball and running with it... well, actually whacking at it with a club and hoping for the best.

Today's little ditty draws upon memories of our own family mini golf outings, when my children were but wee munchkins with nothing to lose but their competitive spirit.
 

Golf Day

I pick a club that’s just my size

and ball so bright it hurts my eyes,

then place it on the perfect spot

to give that ball a great big swat!

Swing once… a miss.

Swing twice… just air.

The third time, with a bit more care…

Going

              going

                            going…

                                          THWACK!

                                      It hits the wall,

                             starts

              rolling

back.

Oh no you don’t!

I won’t be beat.

Don’t need the club,

I’ll use my feet

to kick

              and chase you

                                        to the hole….

                                                                 At last

                                                                 that ball

                                                                 drops

                                                                 i

                                                                 n

                                                                 t

                                                                 h

                                                                 e

                                                                 bowl.

My da says, “That’s not how it’s done,”

but he’s just sore because I won.

© 2013 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes.  All rights reserved.

Tabatha Yeatts holds the score card today at The Opposite of Indifference, so check out all the players in the Poetry Friday roundup.  Mini pencils for all!

Back to School

Where I grew up, in Westchester County, New York, school began after Labor Day (otherwise known as the day we put away the white pants).  As a consequence, I've always associated autumn with the start of the academic year.  Crisp morning air, stiff blue jeans, the crunch of fallen leaves, and the smell of new school supplies... it came as a package deal. 

Since becoming a parent, however, the first day of school has sneaked up on me every single year.  This is not because the fashion rules have changed regarding white pants.  It's because in both Sydney and Florida, school starts in summertime (January and August respectively) when the livin' is supposed to be easy if I am to believe George Gershwin.  Rudely awakened from my warm weather reveries, I am flung back into reality against my better judgment.

But enough about me-- I am determined not to make this post a nostalgic grown-up's whinge fest.  Instead, today's little ditty is about the enthusiasm of a child returning to school after summer break, meeting a teacher for the first time, and wondering what the new year has in store.  Knowing that whatever it is, it is bound to be great fun.

Advice for my new teacher

Today’s the day

before the day

before the day

school starts!

It’s almost here,

the time of year

to show off all

my smarts.

I met my brand new teacher

(she seems very, very nice)

and told her she can come to me

for lots of good advice.

And when she does

(I know she will),

this is what I’ll say:

The grown ups think

we’re here to learn,

but kids?

We want to play!

© 2013 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes.  All rights reserved.

Now pack your school bag, grab your lunch, and hurry on over to Steps and Staircases, where Lisa has today's Poetry Friday roundup.  See you next time!

Five for Friday: Things I Learned On My Summer Vacation

"The cure for anything is salt water-- tears, sweat, or the sea."  -Isak Dinesen

Having recently returned from a wonderful week in Beaufort, South Carolina (thanks to Robyn Hood Black for the recommendation)

The Waterfront at Beaufort, SC

and Cumberland Island, Georgia,

Cumberland Island Beach, Georgia

I'd like to share five things I learned:

1: Live dolphins are best viewed not through the lens of a camera.

Captain Dick's Beaufort River Tour and Dolphin Watch

2. On the Pelican Express, there is no caboose. 

Pelicans above Hunting Island Beach, Beaufort

3. Sometimes the best treasures are hidden in plain view...

 

and sand dollars in 50 and 25 cent pieces are no less valuable.

4. Sometimes the call of the wild is a whisper... so as not to disturb lunch.

Wild horse at Dungeness Ruins, Cumberland Island

5. You can visit the place, but you must live the adventure.

Drying drenched bottoms on the ferry back to St. Marys

Walking the half mile from the beach on Cumberland Island to the dock, the sky broke open and we were caught in a torrential downpour.  In sodden sneakers, we splashed and splooshed through the six inches of rainwater that quickly flooded the trail.  

Drenched, but happy... similar, perhaps, to the boy in this limerick by Liz Steinglass featured on my blog earlier this week.  If you haven't seen it yet, please have a look... there are also illustrations by my daughter, Miranda.  Then, after you're done there, head over to No Water River, where Renée is hosting this week's Poetry Friday roundup.

So long for now....

Dreams of My Father

In honor of Father's Day, I have a special guest on Today's Little Ditty-- my dear ol' dad.  I'm so grateful for the relationship I have with my father and am proud to share many of his personality traits.

Here we are many, many moons ago:

Sometimes I still feel like I'm piggybacking on his broad shoulders.  It's a comfortable place to be.  

One of the most wonderful things for me now that he's retired, is finding out things about him that I never knew before; like how much he, too, enjoys poetry and words, and the challenge of picking just the right ones to express his innermost musings.  The following is from a collection of about thirty poems that he wrote last year on the subject of dreams.  This is one of my favorites... and no, not just because it mentions li'l ol' me.

Permission

In my dreams I have permission

to go places and do things I cannot do

when I am awake.  For instance, last night

I went to a picnic in the rain and slush at my daughter’s friend’s house

on the beach at the lake on the far side of the community.  I did not

get wet.  I was not cold.  There were fish four feet long swimming in the water

near the rocks.  The umbrella did not work.

I saw it with my own (sleeping) eyes.

Try that when you’re awake.

(In My Dreams 3)

8 February 2012

© George A. Heidenrich. All rights reserved.

All my life, people have told me what a wonderful man my father is... as if I didn't already know.  Thanks, Dad.  I love you.

Whether dreaming, soul-searching, or lighthearted laughter is what you're after, please join Margaret at Reflections on the Teche for today's Poetry Friday roundup.

Losing my keys... and my marbles.

This week marks the peak of the end-of-school-year crazies, jam-packed with final projects, field trips, parties, performances, ceremonies... you name it, we're there with smiles and a donation of snack food.

Add to that, preparations for out of town visitors to celebrate my 13 year old's birthday party and my 10 year old's graduation from elementary school, plus final revisions on two picture book manuscripts that I am taking with me to the SCBWI conference in Orlando in two weeks, and you should have a pretty good picture of my current state of mind.

But hey, just in case that picture's still not in focus, my daughter Miranda (the 10 year old graduate) is today's guest poet, here with the ditty du jour:

Keys

                                                        My mom lost her keys.  I found

                                                        Them       with ease.  Turns out

                                                        They        were

                                                         In the      car.

                                                         Wow, Mom.

© 2013 Miranda Barnes.  All rights reserved.

This scatterbrained mother could not be more proud.  Happy Graduation, Sweetheart!  I see a bright and creative future ahead of you... but don't even think about dating or borrowing the car keys for another 20 years.  (Just kidding... 12-15 will do.)

Anyone else planning to be at the SCBWI conference in Orlando?  Would love to meet up with new Poetry Friday friends.

And speaking of Poetry Friday, don't forget to check out today's round up, hosted by the delightful Jama, at Jama's Alphabet Soup!

Love you, Mom

Today's little ditty is for all the mothers out there, and dedicated, with love, to my own.

Mom

She cooks the roast

And washes dishes

Offers hugs

And healing kisses

Does the laundry

Drives the car

Chauffeurs kids

Both near and far

Cleans up messes

Packs the lunch

Laughs a lot

And smiles a bunch

Helps her children

Learn and grow

And when it’s time

She lets them go.

© 2008 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes.  All rights reserved.

Hey Mom and poetry fans, there's more!

Visit Anastasia Suen's Poetry Blog for today's Poetry Friday round up.

My Garden is Your Garden

Welcome to Haiku Garden— a place to ponder some of poetry's littlest ditties, planted with love for our reading pleasure.  This is not just my garden, it is a community garden.  If you would like to take part in this new and recurring feature on Today's Little Ditty, please contact me at michelle (at) MichelleHBarnes (dot) com, or by commenting below.  I happen to know that there are many wonderful poets reading this blog post who excel in Japanese short form (haiku, senryu, haiga...). Please join me!  Or maybe you don't typically write in this form, but would like to try your hand at it just for fun.  Please join me!  Here, it's all ditties and it's all good.  Haiku Garden will only grow as beautiful as the community that gathers to appreciate it, and I look forward to featuring you and your blog!

In the meantime, today's little ditty was inspired by a memory that I've kept close to my heart for the past seven plus years.  It was January, summertime in Sydney, Australia, and the beginning of the school year.  My 5 year old was starting Kindergarten.  Each morning, we walked up a steep hill on a street lined with Frangipani trees to get to his school.  Along the way, he liked to collect the best blossoms from those that had fallen to the ground-- his daily ritual which I accommodated as best I could without being late for the morning bell.

Frangipani

Cradled in his hands

like newborn chicks, Here Mummy,

keep these forever?

© 2013 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes.  All rights reserved.

Hungry for more?  Laura Purdie Salas has the Poetry Friday roundup at Writing the World for Kids.  See you there!