Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Poetry

I've never cared for poetry.  I don't really get it.  As a kid, I couldn't write it, and well... there just was no reason to try.  Except Shakespeare, because actually, I love the sonnets.

So it has come as a fun surprise to me to read kid's poetry.  I love it!  A.A. Milne is a favorite, sweet, personable.  And to be honest, one of my favorites was a bit of deja vu:

Spring Morning

Where am I going?  I don't quite know.
Down to the stream where the king-cups grow-
Up on the hill where the pine-trees blow-
Anywhere, anywhere.  I don't know.

Where am I going?  The clouds sail by,
Little ones, baby ones, over the sky.
Where am I going?  The shadows pass,
Little ones, baby ones, over the grass.

If you were a cloud, and sailed up there,
You'd sail on water as blue as air,
And you'd see me here in the fields and say:
"Doesn't the sky look green today?"

Where am I going?  The high rooks call:
"It's awful fun to be born at all."
Where am I going?  The ring-doves coo:
"We do have beautiful things to do."

If you were a bird, and lived on high,
You'd lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You'd say to the wind when it took you away:
"That's where I wanted to go today!"

Where am I going?  I don't quite know.
What does it matter where people go?
Down to the wood where the blue-bells grow-
Anywhere, anywhere.  I don't know.

The first time I read this to the kids it sounded very familiar.  I read it through again and realized where I've heard it before- one of my favorite movies as a kid: Kindergarten Cop.  As silly as it is, every time I read it now, I wonder what it is about this particular poem that the writer's of that movie wanted to share it.  It is definitely a read-aloud.  If you're not a fan of poetry yet, try reading it aloud.  It has the most beautiful rhythm.

So that's what I'm thinking about today.  Poetry, and starting back at the beginning to learn to love something.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Splash!

Rainbow Making

To make a rainbow,
light must learn to paint

with beads of water
mixed with air
just right,

and master every color 
row by row
to shape a bow.

It seems to take 
a lot of stormy tries
to watercolor-paint
on misty skies.


Saturday, June 12, 2010

Purple!



When I brought this beauty, an Islander bell pepper, home from the store, I mentioned to Brian that it was purple, but he was in a 24 induced TV coma and didn't hear me, apparently.  So a few days into our trip to California I called and asked how the garden was doing.  He went back to check on it.  Our conversation went like this:

"OH NO."

"What?  What happened?"

"I think I killed the peppers!"

"Why?  What happened?"

"They turned PURPLE."

I laughed.