DMC: "Strangers No More" by Janet Clare Fagal

STRANGERS NO MORE

The wave-dancing, endless crashing
water music welcomes me
to the sun-blistering,
crazy-quilted beach.
Where towel-unfurling placement is an art,
and undertow-racing, deep-hole digging children
scream f o r e v e r. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Their voices carried off by ocean breezes,
drowned out by seagull-screeching songs.
Where eager bathers dodge the sea-foamy shore,
and summer-heat's magic becomes a healing balm.
Where strangers share their bits of sand-tinged tapestries,
tip-toeing around with care.
 
© 2020 by Janet Clare Fagal. All rights reserved.


Buffy Silverman has challenged us to write a poem that uses combined or invented words. Click HERE for more details and to read this month's Spotlight ON interview.

Post your poem on our February 2020 padlet. All contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration this Friday, February 28th, and one lucky participant will win a personalized copy of her nonfiction poetry picture book from Millbrook Press:

DMC: "Sharing" by Keri Collins Lewis

SHARING

Dry summer
the cockroach sips from the puddle
in the kitchen sink. 

© 2017 Keri Collins Lewis. All rights reserved.


Click HERE to read this month's interview with Carol Hinz, Editorial Director of Millbrook Press and Carolrhoda Books, divisions of Lerner Publishing Group. Her challenge this month is to write a poem that finds beauty in something that is not usually considered beautiful.

Post your poems on our November 2017 padlet. While some contributions will be featured as daily ditties this month, all contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration on Friday, November 24th. One lucky participant will win a copy of The Sun Played Hide-and-Seek: A Personification Story by Brian P. Cleary, illustrated by Carol Crimmins, and published by Millbrook Press earlier this year.

My Summer with the Old Man

Photo: Vicki DeLoach

Nope, the "old man" is not my dad. Nor is it my husband, in case you were wondering. I'm referring to the old man in this poem by Joseph Bruchac.

BIRDFOOT'S GRAMPA

The old man
must have stopped our car
two dozen times to climb out
and gather into his hands
the small toads blinded
by our lights and leaping,
live drops of rain.

Read the rest HERE.  (I'll wait.)


It's a wonderful poem, isn't it?

I've been thinking about it a lot over the course of my crazy-busy summer. Not only do I identify with Birdfoot's impatience, I also feel kinship with those little toads—hopping in one direction or another, only to be stunned and confused when something throws them off course. I'd like to say that I identify with the old man most of all, but that's a stretch. I'm definitely not there yet... though I may be a hop, skip, and jump closer.

This summer I was a full-time toad multitasker—one might even say "amphidextrous" (wink). There was the Teacher Toad, who conducted several different poetry workshops; the Traveler Toad, who found her way to the Berkshires for a reunion and to Atlanta for a college visit; the Mom Toad who held things together back at the homestead; the Chauffeur Toad, who is often mistaken for the Mom Toad; the Conference Toad who had a taste of her first ILA experience; the Editor Toad, who, with the invaluable assistance of a Toadlet Ditty Committee, got the next volume of the The Best of Today's Little Ditty under way; the Friend Toad and Daughter Toad, who made themselves available with limited success; and the runt of the lot—the self-starter Poet Toad—who, more than anything, is well-practiced in the art of patience.

It's a lot to manage, all those hoppity-hoppers. Is it any wonder that the littlest ones get ignored? Until this summer, my modus operandi was to spend an inordinate amount of time juggling time and priorities, ever hopeful that I could find a way to have it all. Of course, it never worked. Outrageous expectations breed disappointment. Period.

But thanks to the old man, I'm beginning to see things another way. Who's to say that any one of these toads doesn't deserve a leathery hand and a fast track to greener pastures. No one fancies being squished when there are places to go and things to do. Priorities change, yes, but that doesn't make one goal more deserving than another.

Photo: Peter Reed

So guess what? I've decided it's okay to take my time. To watch for toads in the road. To explore new opportunities "knee deep in the summer/roadside grass." To carry life in the palm of my hand.

If there's one thing we've learned from current events, it's that life is unpredictable. Predictably unpredictable, in fact. Far more important to me right now is the desire to be present and resilient than the desire to be productive in any one area. I hereby give myself permission to change the rules as I go.

Huh. Looks like my One Little Word has cropped up again—Change.

Lesson learned. Toadally.

A new DMC challenge is on the way! Our next Spotlight interview will be unveiled on September 1st.

It's great to be back to Poetry Friday! Thanks to Jone Rush MacCulloch for hosting this week's roundup at Check it Out.

DMC: "A Season of Poems — a Quartet" by Jane Baskwill

A SEASON OF POEMS—A QUARTET

Poems in Winter

Poems in Winter are
Slow to rise,
When storms rattle the window panes,
And wind whistles through cracks,
They shiver and shake and hide undercover,
Not wanting to come out,
Not willing to leave their nest,
Until lured by the snap-crackling of a promise,
Drawn to the warming intoxication of the hearth,
Cold hearts melt as icy fingers thaw,
They curl up by the fire momentarily,
Poems in Winter
Make good kindling.

Poems in Spring

Poems in spring are hopeful,
They start as small shoots to be nurtured
And protected from the whims of nature,
Some germinating too early,
Catching the gardener unaware,
Some awakening from a winter’s rest
Only to die from joyful pruning,
Some growing rapidly,
Taking over their assigned space,
And spreading into others’,
Forcing their presence,
In need of shaping, tending, taming,
They seek attention, consideration, celebration,
Poems in Spring
Rejuvenate the spirit.

Poems in Summer

Poems in Summer
Are a procrastinator’s dream,
They lie about on porches or swings,
Or in the shade of a tree, dozing,
With their eyes closed against the brilliance of day,
When summer breezes blow,
They drift into neighbour’s gardens,
Waiting for someone else to find them,
Caring not for the woes of the world,
Nor if they should live beyond today,
Poems in Summer
Are lazy.

Poems in Fall

Poems in Fall
Explode with colour and embrace their calling,
They drop from leaf-laden trees
Without care or misgiving,
Coming to rest with joy and abandon
They are propelled along pathways and old railway beds,
Moving briskly with stalwart determination,
They gather in piles and heaps, on stoops and verandas,
Impatiently demanding to be,
Poems in Fall
Have an urgency.


© 2017 Jane Baskwill. All rights reserved.


Click HERE to read this month's interview with Melissa Manlove, Senior Editor at Chronicle Books. Her DMC challenge is to write a poem that explores how writing (or a book) is like something else.

Post your poem on our May 2017 padlet. While some contributions will be featured as daily ditties this month, all contributions will be included in a wrap-up celebration this Friday, May 26th. Two lucky participants will win a book published by Chronicle earlier this year: LOVING VS. VIRGINIA by Patricia Hruby Powell, illustrated by Shadra Strickland, or LOVE IS by Diane Adams, illustrated by Claire Keane.

DMC: "Summer Tradition" by Kristi Dee Veitenheimer

SUMMER TRADITION 

Six flags-
summer.

Waiting-
snaking lines.

Log flume-
straddle the seat.

Squealing-
splashing every turn.

Uh Oh-
chains pulling up incline.

Grabbing-
frightened knowing what comes next.

Tensing-
anticipating the freefall.

Screaming-
losing my stomach racing downhill.

Soaking-
running, getting back in line one more time!

© 2015 Kristi Dee Veitenheimer. All rights reserved.

Lee Bennett Hopkins has challenged us to write a "ME poem" this month, based on one simple moment in your childhood that changed you in some way. 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, September 25th, and one lucky participant will win an autographed copy of Lee's gorgeous new anthology:

Haiku Garden: Charles Waters

Photo: Trym Asserson

You wouldn't know it by the weather here in Florida, but the writing's on the wall– 

summer is drawing to a close. 

Soon I will be forced to let go of lazy days and loose, unstructured schedules. Until then, I'm grabbing every moment of quiet, reflective time I can get my hands on. That's what makes today's visit in the Haiku Garden all the more special.

Joining me today is a man of many talents: Charles Waters. Charles is a children's poet, poetry performer, actor, teacher, activist, friend... I've probably forgotten a few, though I'm not sure it matters once you've reached a half dozen. One of the things I find remarkable about Charles is that he actually pulls it all off. While some of us require sleep, Charles is a preeminent go-getter. He doesn't wait for opportunities, he makes them.

And let's talk about his swoon-worthy poetry, shall we? Charles' work has appeared in numerous anthologies. In 2015 alone, he has appeared in The Poetry Friday Anthology for Celebrations (Vardell/Wong) and Dear Tomato: An International Crop of Food and Agriculture Poems (Hoyte), and will also appear in J. Patrick Lewis' The National Geographic Book of Nature Poetry and Lee Bennett Hopkins' Amazing Places, both forthcoming this October.

Leading up to today's haiku, Charles shares with us a few lesser-known personal attributes– nature lover, allergy sufferer, and vegan:

I had a love/hate relationship with nature for many years. While I admired its beauty, washing my eyes over its visual splendor, I had the worst case of allergies in U.S. history. I'm exaggerating, but only a little.  Pollen/dust have always been thine enemy. 

However, some of this discomfort may have been from food, as well.  Since becoming a vegan there has been a major decrease in scratchy throat, itchy eyes, sneezing, and coughing.  This has given me an opportunity to be less apprehensive in strolling inside nature, like a poet detective, looking for clues on the unfolding of our universe.

Photo: Alan Howe Landscapes

MORNING THIRST

Straw colored swaths stretch
From tufted bed drinking in
Nature’s nourishment.

© 2015 Charles Waters. 

               All rights reserved.

For Charles, all roads lead to inspiration.

Photo: Fiona in Eden

He has appeared in several national theater touring companies including The National Theater for the Performing Arts, The National Theater for Children and Poetry Alive!, AND he's been on television– how cool is that?  He conducts his one man show POETRY TIME, as well as poetry performance workshops for elementary and middle school audiences, all over the nation.  It's been said that "Poetry comes alive when Charles takes the stage!" and I, for one, believe it. To find out more about Charles' books and workshops or to watch a sampling of "Poetry Time" videos, visit Charles' website: charleswaterspoetry.com. 

Thank you for stopping by the Haiku Garden, Charles,

 and for sustaining us with your nourishing words.

You'll find lots more inspiration at the Poetry Friday roundup. Please join Heidi Mordhorst at My Juicy Little Universe for this week's offerings.

Laura Shovan: Summer Postcard Poetry

"Postcards" by Stefano Montagner

Having just returned from the 100 Thousand Poets for Change World Conference in Italy, TLD contributor Laura Shovan is here with a splendido postcard activity for the summer months. 

Welcome back, Laura!

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Summer is almost here. Do you have your day trips, camps, or vacations planned yet? The children may be out of school, but summer offers wonderful opportunities for families to write together. Whether you’re visiting the local science museum, spending a week at the beach, or stopping by a relative’s house, sending a postcard is a great way to encourage writing.

I love postcards. For years, I’ve kept a small album filled not with photographs, but with postcards that friends and family have sent our family from their travels.  Postcards aren’t just about the picture. The written message is a little peek into someone else’s exciting adventure.

Making a poetry postcard is one way to say “Wish You Were Here” to a friend back home. This is a simple project that families can work on together. I like using this project to work on imagery-writing skills: emergent writers can observe the five senses, while children who are ready for a challenge can opt to create similes.

Make Your Own Poetry Postcard

You will need:

• 4 x 6 index cards (or purchase a souvenir postcard)
• Paper for notes (or use index cards)
• Colored pencils (optional)
• Your five senses!

On Memorial Day, my husband and I went to an outdoor café at Lake Kittamaqundi. There were colorful paddle boats floating on the lake. It was such a beautiful day here in Maryland, I thought, “My niece and nephew would love to be here, paddling on the lake.”

Paddle boats at Lake Kittamaqundi

I took out my index card and started writing down notes about what I observed, with some help from my husband.

Taking notes at the café

Steps:

1.  On your paper or an extra index card, describe the place you’re observing using your five senses.

     What do you see?
     What do you hear?
     What do you feel?
     What do you smell?
     What do you taste?

2.  Challenge option: can you make a simile for any of your images? 

     SENSE: I see that the lake has ripples.
     SIMILE: The lake’s surface looks as rough
                       as a turtle’s shell.


3.  If you are making your own postcard, sketch a picture on the unlined side of a clean index card.

Sketch of the pirate boat (with Uncle Rob's pterodactyl)

4.  On the lined side of your postcard, draw a line to make a left and right side.

5.  Use your ideas from Step 1 and Step 2 to write a message on the left side of your postcard OR write a five senses poem using your notes.  (Be sure to leave the right side of the postcard blank for the address.)

Keep it simple for younger kids.

I see a red pirate ship paddle across the lake.
I feel the breeze play with my hair.
I smell the green of new leaves.
I hear ice tinkle in a glass.
I taste sharp, sweet lemonade.

6.  If you are making your own postcard, color or decorate it.

Finished drawing of Auntie Laura in the red pirate paddle boat

7.  Add an address and a stamp.

8.  Send!

Postcard from Lake Kittamaqundi
For Madeline & Caspian

Have you ever munched on the roots
of a blade of grass? That was the scent
on the breeze today, so I thought of you.
The lake was speckled with paddle boats—
a swan, a pink flamingo—
you would have captained the red
pirate ship, so I thought of you.
At the café, the waitress’s orange fingernails
were a bed of daylilies in bloom.
The ice in my lemonade tinkled
as the waitress handed it to me.
I took a sip and it was sweet,
so I thought of you.

© 2015 Laura Shovan. All rights reserved.

Laura Shovan is poetry editor for the literary journal Little Patuxent Review and of two poetry anthologies. Her chapbook, Mountain, Log, Salt and Stone, won the inaugural Harriss Poetry Prize. She works with young poets as a Maryland State Arts Council Artist-in-Residence. Her debut novel-in-verse for children, THE LAST FIFTH GRADE OF EMERSON ELEMENTARY, will be published in spring of 2016 (Wendy Lamb Books). Laura blogs about arts education at AuthorAmok.


What a wonderful momento of summertime adventures– thank you, Laura, for this fun family activity! 

Read Laura's other posts on Today's Little Ditty:

• In Defense of Great Writers
• Why I Hate Rhyme
• List Poem Workshop 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In case you missed last week's interview with Corey Rosen Schwartz, we're stretching our rhyming muscles while building treehouses this month. Katie Gast's clever chicken was the first to be featured. What's next is up to you!

Jama is hosting this week's Poetry Friday roundup at Jama's Alphabet Soup. Stop by for a poem and a taste of something sweet.

DMC: "Blanket" by Laura Purdie Salas

BLANKET

Blanket is a rectangular word
with hard corners
anchored by flip-flops

Its "B" longs for the beach
Blanket is a blank slate,
ready to fill in the ______
and B a tablecloth/game board/
doormat/towel

Its flat, low center holds "an"
old blue cooler with winter inside
We lift the lid, not for the
roast beef, Doritos, and soda,
but for the chill breath
it exhales on our hot,
gritty skin

It gets crowded and wrinkled,
but everyone fits in the
b-l-a-n-k-e-t
sunscreened k-n-e-e presses against
orange-powdered a-n-k-l-e
Keeping us safe
       from the sand
             from the sea
             from time

© 2015 Laura Purdie Salas. All rights reserved.


Nikki Grimes has challenged us to try a wordplay exercise this month and create our own free verse poems. Click HERE for all the 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, May 29th, and one lucky participant will win a personalized copy of Nikki's brand new picture book:

DMC: "Ice Cream in Summer" by Miranda Barnes

Ice Cream in Summer

I lick, lick, lick my ice cream cone
But somehow one
Drop still
Slips
Past my sticky
Finger-
Tips.
On my shorts it
Drip, drip
Drips.

© 2014 Miranda Barnes (7th grade), all rights reserved.


J. Patrick Lewis has challenged us to write a zeno this month. What's a zeno, you ask? Click HERE for details.

To join in the fun, send yours to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com, or use the contact form in the sidebar to the right. All zenos will be included in the wrap-up celebration on October 31st, and one lucky participant will win a copy of Pat's gorgeous, new, "best of" collection:

Two Line Tuesday: Mary Oliver

Grasshopper, by Tim Strater

Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life? 

– Mary Oliver, "The Summer Day"

 

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....

Stung

Moon Jellyfish

I'm not sure if my fascination with the deep ocean is inspired more by awe or dread.  This undersea world both attracts and repels me in equal parts, and as a result, I am left hypnotized.

Creatively, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Thanks for stopping by... I hope you enjoy today's little ditty.
 

          Stung

          By the light of your silvery orb

          mysteriously hung

          in air thick with flotsam,

          I mistook your pulse

          for the twinkle of a star

          and sent my wish into the great unknown.

          Over time and tide,

          your sting no longer pains me. 

          Memories washed out to sea.

          © 2013 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes. All rights reserved.

 

Today's Poetry Friday roundup is being hosted by MsMac at Check It Out.  So why don't you go do that... check it out, I mean. 

Habits + the Poetry Friday Roundup

At my house, summer is a time to kick, stick, and pick-- kick back and relax, stick our tongues out at deadlines, and pick some new personal projects (or at least reaquaint ourselves with some old ones).

But let's not stop there!  Without the rigors of too much homework and an overload of extracurricular activities, my hope springs eternal.  Ten unencumbered weeks is surely enough time to revisit our priorities and develop some new habits... regular exercise; more family time; children who pick up after themselves, help around the house, and keep their rooms clean?  Oh yes.  That would be nice.

Today's little ditty is about habits-- bad habits, actually.  I confess to having a couple doozies of my own (and I'm not just talking about losing my keys), but that's for me to know and you not to find out... at least not yet.

Will my children object when they read this post?  Undoubtedly.  But, you see, this is my blog, kids; you can write about my bad habits in your own blogs one day.

          Bad Habits

          When I was young I sucked my thumb

          and now I bite my nails.

          I dawdle when I shouldn’t

          and I’m prone to telling tales.

          My mother says, “Your room’s a mess!

          Your clothes are on the floor!”

          My sister shrieks, “You didn’t knock!”

          when I come through the door.

          “Raise your hand!” says teacher,

          “There are rules you must abide.”

          And Dad says if I have to fart

          to please take it outside.

          I’d like to break these habits

          but there’s one thing folks are missin’—

          the worst of all my habits

          is I simply do not listen.

          © 2008 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes. All rights reserved.

Now here's your reward for sitting so nicely in front of your computer and smiling politely at the end of my poem: THE POETRY FRIDAY ROUNDUP!   In the comments, please leave a one-line description along with a direct link to your post, and I will list below.

1. Charles Ghigna puts up the sunbrella today at Father Goose. 

2. At The Writer's Whimsy, Tamera Will Wissinger features her ALA Poetry Blast! experience.

3. Iphigene at Gathering Books shares an original poem about the heartbreak of a man who can never really have what his heart desires.

4. At Reflections on the Teche, Margaret Simon has a found poem from an art magazine, made especially for Linda Baie in the Poem Swap.

5. Today's trio from Diane Mayr includes an original poem about bee vision on Random Noodling; "Fishing on the Susquehanna in July" by Billy Collins on Kurious Kitty; and a quote by Norman Maclean over at KK's Kwotes.

6. Keri, at Keri Recommends, is in with a poem she wrote for Week 2 of the Poem Swap -- also for Linda Baie!

7. Laura spotlights Lord Byron's quarto of "Childe Harold" on Author Amok, while experiencing her own personal "Bridge of Sighs."

8. At Wee Words for Wee Ones, Bridget Magee has an original riddle poem that humorously tests readers' sea life knowledge.

9. Tara has summer on her mind at A Teaching Life.

10. Given the prompt "fishing," Linda Baie at Teacher Dance surprises herself with the direction this original poem takes.

11. At Check it Out, Jone has a juicy, summer-inspired poem by Janet Fagal.

12. Mrs. Bennett discusses the worlds shortest poem, "Fleas," at Used Books in Class.

13. Tabatha has poems by Alfred Kreymborg today at The Opposite of Indifference.

14. Liz Steinglass introduces us to the idea of "wordless" and "circular" haiku, with four originals on her blog.

15. At Tapestry of Words, Becky Shillington talks about writing poetry with kids, and shares a fun poem written by some super smart kiddos.

16. On Poet! Poet!, Anastasia Suen has a haiku about the all too frequent summer phenomenon, the power blackout.

17. Matt Forrest shares an original weather-themed poem on Radio, Rhythm & Rhyme.

18. At A Year of Reading, Mary Lee shares an original poem about weeding the garden.

19. Jennie at Biblio File takes a look at the song "Hallelujah" with her review of The Holy or the Broken.

20. M.M. Socks is here with an original poem titled "Shepard," about a boy who lives up to his name.

21. Over at The Poem Farm, Amy Ludwig VanDerwater has a wee poem and a special guest teacher sharing some teaching ideas and student poems.

22. Sylvia Vardell's post at Writing for Children includes film footage from her recent ALA presentation with Janet Wong-- on poetry and the Common Core.

23. Little Willow has selected lyrics from "Low" by The Good Mad at Bildungsroman.

24. Betsy at I Think in Poems offers a peek at her recent vacation in words and pictures.

25. Feeling nostalgic, Catherine shares one of her favorite poems, "When You Are Old" by William Butler Yeats, at Reading to the Core.

26. The theme at Kerry Aradhya's blog, Picture Books & Pirouettes, is flowers and dance -- including a poem by her 8-year-old daughter.

27. At Crackles of Speech, Steven Withrow has an original poem titled "At Crescent Park Carousel."

28. Irene Latham continues her Valerie Worth series with poems about birds at Live Your Poem.

29. Like so many of us, Catherine Johnson also has summer on her mind, in poetry and pictures.

30. At All About the Books, Janet Squires reviews Edward Lear, edited by Edward Mendelson and illustrated by Laura Huliska-Beith, from the Poetry for Young People series.

31. The poetry of Langston Hughes figures prominently in Blue Balliet's latest novel, HOLD FAST, reviewed today on Carol's Corner.

32. Joy has an original poem about a street performer and a poetry challenge at Poetry for Kids Joy.

33. At Teaching Tomorrow's Leaders, Robin shares a heartfelt, reflective poem.

34. Let's extend a warm welcome to Kim, our newest Poetry Friday blogger!  You can find her original poem on Flukeprints.