Posts filed under 'Poetry Friday'
With the move to daylight saving time earlier this week and the especially spring-like weather here in the northeast, we thought something outdoorsy would be appropriate for this week’s Poetry Friday entry, courtesy Bella, one of Randi Allison’s students. The inspiration for Bella’s poem comes from Trees Be Company, An Anthology of Poetry. Bella embraces the invitation to seek out poetry in her everyday life, ensuring a palette of never-ending ideas to splash her thoughts and noticings, filling her blank canvas.
What A Tree Looks Like
In the summer
a tree looks like
a happy grandma
with lots of children
running around her.
When it’s windy
a tree looks like
a giant with messy
green hair.
After a snowstorm
a tree looks like
a delicious cookie
with sparkly, vanilla frosting.
In the spring
a tree looks like
a huge broccoli,
a home for
squirrels, birds, and bugs.
At night
a tree looks like
a spooky tower
where witches
keep princesses hostage.
In fall
when the leaves are gone
a tree looks like
a dancer swaying side to side.
That’s what a tree looks like
Bella
age 8
Bella, age 8
March 19th, 2010
Writer/teacher Randi Allison shares another student poem this week. This one, by Trevor, is inspired by the read aloud All the Places to Love, by Patricia Maclachlan
On the day I was born
the rain fell outside the
window, the thunder boomed
like God’s clap, a rainbow
bowed across the sky. The
rain stopped, a bird chirped
and my father picked me up.
I lived in a small house. I
caught bugs and let them go.
I saw cottonwoods bloom and tried
to catch the white fluff as they
floated by and brushed my face.
I drew small pictures and wrote
crooked words.
I went to school.
I explored and I made friends.
I walked places, did things
and noticed. I sketched and became
part of all my places to love.
Today I drew a picture of the
places I love and I remember all of
the times before and my brother
watches me and does his job of bothering
me. I rode my bike tons of places,
to school and everywhere, but then I went
somewhere I shouldn’t go and my
mom took my front wheel
off my bike and hung it up
high and I would stand in the garage
staring up at it in the rafters longing and soon
it would be back on my bike
and I would be free to fly
again. And I found that I could
say stuff with my painting that there
were no words for, and the colors could flow
how I want them to. Control
is a virtue in life and sometimes
I can’t control, but the pain I can.
Trevor
age 12
March 12th, 2010
Today’s PF is once again courtesy of Randi Allison. Thanks, Randi!
I am from the quiet sea of Canada.
The white snow sparkles brightly.
If you don’t know Canada, then you can’t know the snow.
I am from the quiet sea of Canada.
The long green grass shivers silently from the wind.
If you don’t know Canada, then you can’t know the prairie.
I am from the quiet sea of Canada.
The skies go on and on for as long as you can see.
If you don’t know Canada, then you can’t know the skies.
I am from the quiet seas of Canada.
Elliott
age 9
Inspired by the read aloud of David Bouchard’s: If You’re Not From the Prairie
March 5th, 2010
We’d like to introduce you to Randi Allison. Some people collect dolls, some collect baseball cards, Randi Allison collects children’s writing. For more than 25 years Randi has taught and shared her love and gift of literature with both children and adults alike. Randi has collected over 1300 children’s writings over the years. The children’s writings are beacons of light shining hope, faith, and courage. Randi is the author of Tastes Like Chocolate, thoughts from young people, (Crane Press, 2007). Randi currently lives in Colorado with her husband and continues to share her love of literacy with the children and adults of Douglas County School District, Colorado.
With all the snowy weather a lot of the country has seen, we thought we’d share this poem by Nate:
I am inside with my big brother
and he says,
“Let’s go out and walk in the snow.”
My big brother walks into the snow.
I follow and walk in his footprints
and I think,
someday when I’m grown up
I am going to walk
just like him.
Nate
age 7
In Nate’s own words…
The day I wrote this poem it was in January right after my brother’s birthday, and my brother said, “Let’s go outside and walk in the snow.” We got on our boots and jackets and mittens and scarves, we headed out. As we were walking I was behind my brother and I looked down and I began to walk in his footsteps, thinking, ‘someday I want to be just like him.’
February 12th, 2010
Here in Portland, the snow has taken an unseasonable absence and the sun is expected to stay with us all weekend. But some 500 miles southwest, our friends in the Washington, D.C. area are expecting up to 28 inches of snow by tomorrow night. And so this Poetry Friday, we wanted to provide an opportunity for some reflection amid the storm warnings and snow plows…
This week’s poem was written by Siv Cedering, a Swedish-American writer, poet, translator, illustrator, sculptor, and composer. Though she passed away in 2007, her diverse body of work continues to be recognized and admired throughout the U.S. and Europe. Counted among Cedering’s fans are Pat Johnson and Katie Keier, who use the poem for a think aloud as they model visualizing with poetry to aid comprehension in Catching Readers Before They Fall, due out next month.
When It Is Snowing
by Siv Cedering
When it is snowing
the blue jay
is the only piece of
sky
in my
backyard.
“When It Is Snowing” originally appeared in Color Poems, published by Calliopea Press in 1978. It is used with permission of the estate of Siv Cedering.
February 5th, 2010
The past couple of days have been quite frosty here in Maine, so this week’s poem comes from a Mainer, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, who lived through a couple of Maine winters.
Snow-flakes
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.
Read the rest of the poem
here. December 18th, 2009
Hanukkah starts tonight, so here is a children’s poem for the occasion by Aileen Fisher.
Light the Festive Candles
by Aileen Fisher
(FOR HANUKKAH)
Light the first of eight tonight—
the farthest candle to the right.
Light the first and second, too,
when tomorrow’s day is through.
Read the rest of the poem here…
December 11th, 2009
This week’s poem comes from Steven Layne, whose new book Igniting a Passion for Reading: Successful Strategies for Building Lifetime Readers, is now available for full preview online!
Aliteracy Poem
Steven Layne
Mrs. Thompson’s second graders are amazing!
The principal says they can comprehend anything—
even a medical textbook.
Mrs. Thompson’s second graders are incredible!
The superintendent says their oral reading is completely seamless—
like the gentle flow of an eternal spring.
Mrs. Thompson’s second graders are fantastic!
The P.T.a. president says they finished the reading workbook and
the phonics workbook before the end of the Third Quarter.
Mrs. Thompson’s second graders worry me.
you see, i’m the aide who works in Mrs. Thompson’s classroom,
and i know something that the others don’t.
Mrs. Thompson’s second graders don’t like to read.
From Life’s Literacy Lessons: Poems for Teachers by Steven L. Layne. Copyright 2001 by
the International Reading Association. www.reading.org.
December 4th, 2009
Kimberly Hill Campbell’s recent book Less Is More: Teaching Literature with Short Texts Grades 6-12, shows how short texts engage a wide range of middle and high school students. She shares her discover of the power of short texts to support her students’ skills as readers, writers, and students of literature.
In the section on poetry, Kimberly shares her classroom strategies for helping students discover that poetry is something to be read and enjoyed in and out of school.
This week’s poem comes from one of her students, Trish, who used Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself as inspiration for her own poetry:
Song of Myself
(Inspired by Walt Whitman)
I run and become one with my soul
I run and kisk at my ease
Observing your every move.
My moves, every structure
Of my skills, form’d from
this turf, this atmosphere…
I, now, 16 years of age begin,
Hoping to play until I can
No more.
November 13th, 2009
“Using poetry is a quick and manageable way to invite children to look at a writer’s craft,” writes Aimee Buckner in her book, Notebook Know-How: Strategies for the Writer’s Notebook. In an activity called “Poetry Pass,” students look at several poems and pick one to copy in their notebooks and use for reflection. They then try to emulate the style in their own poetry or prose. This week’s poem comes from one of Aimee’s student, Marissa, who was inspired by “&sun&” by e.e.cummings.
Snowflakes
snowflakes
e
very
one
is
not
the
s
am
e
f
a
ll
ing
d
o
w
n
to
th
e
ground
November 6th, 2009
Previous Posts
