#SOL17  Day 16

The quieter you become, the more you can hear. ~Ram Dass

I choose to sit in the silence

away from the idle talk – meaningless.

In the silence, I am alone with my thoughts,

Alone yet not,

Thinking yet not,

Waiting for vision, clarity,

a knowing of what to do,

where to go –

waiting for inspiration.

 

#SOL17 Day 14

A snow day literally and figuratively falls from the sky, unbidden, and seems like a thing of wonder. ~ Susan Orlean

Hear the wind whipping
The sleet slamming against the bedroom window
Snowstorms should be quiet

As day breaks there is silence
Just snow falling, no alarm clocks ringing,
No whispers of showers, no hustle, no bustle

Soon the voices of newscasters fill the air
Reporting from near and far
The heater clicks on and off with greater frequency

Later the sounds of shovels scraping the blacktop
Combine with humming snow blowers and car motors
Reverberating through the neighborhood

The house begins to crackle and creak
As the sun makes a short appearance
Crunching boots resound through the frozen precipitation

Spoons stirring in cups of hot cocoa
Sputtering popcorn jumps into the bowl
It’s good to be home on a day like today

 

#SOL17

One step at a time is good walking. ~Proverbs

I am getting better with my walking friend.

I stand up straight, I do not bend.

I make my way between tables and chairs.

A walker awaits at both end of the stairs.

I am getting over my walker woes.

But stay out of my way or watch your toes!

Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.  ~Langston Hughes

 

It began as a gentle shower,
barely needing an umbrella for cover.
It steadily grew stronger and stronger
until torrential sheets were sweeping
across the roof.

 
Safe inside
I don’t mind the rain.
Its song is rhythmic,
Soothing and cleansing.

 
I close my eyes and
let the rain’s song wash over me
as I begin to let go

 
Of worries that creep to mind,
Of ailments that plague me,
Of things I cannot control.

 
As the rain nourishes
the parched ground
I allow it to expunge my worries
and nurture my soul.

Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings. ~ William Arthur Ward

Three days before Thanksgiving
Means the school week will be short.
Waking up on Monday morning
I am a happy carefree sort.
I got to school early
With papers to copy
I cleaned up my desk
So it wasn’t so sloppy.
I headed to morning meeting
Feeling ready to go
But got some bad news
Something I needed to know.
My prep period is gone
The librarian is sick
The week isn’t starting
The way I would pick!
No need to despair
I can count on the kids
To make me smile
With their funny bizz
They were working on poems
Of Thanksgiving cheers
They were so funny
They brought me to tears!
So when I count my blessing
Before stuffing my face
I will be sure to be thankful
That I work at such a great place!

 

 #SOL

You only fail if you stop writing. ~ Ray Bradbury

I sat at the computer but could not write.
The blank page was staring at me
teasing,
taunting,
mocking me.
So cruel.

I know there must be thoughts inside.
The words are there but they are
failing,
deserting,
betraying me.
So unkind.

I am in a writing funk.
My mood is like the weather
damp,
gloomy,
Chilling me.
So disheartening.

I will not let this overtake me.
The sun will shine again
inspiring,
encouraging,
motivating me.
So hopeful.

 #SOL

Everyone has a story. ~ Neil Labute

Every day during the month of April, my ELA class begins with a poem prompt – a mentor poem. After we read the poem aloud a few times, the students take turns “noticing” things about the poem – its form, rhyming or not, topic, word choice etc. As the month goes on the “noticing” really induces great discussion about author’s craft.

The students then try their hands at writing in the form of that poem. Sometimes they work in pairs, sometimes alone. They usually have a choice. I always write with them and sometimes share my “best” lines with the class.

This poem was inspired by “Every Cat Has a Story” by Shihab Nye.

Every Pen Has a Story.

The blue one from Beneficial Bank
was her favorite.
It wrote in blue ink
She always used it
to write in her writer’s notebook.

The green one from Lansdale Catholic
was only used at faculty meetings.
It wrote in black ink and had a syllus tip too.
It seemed important.

One pen sat
at the bottom of her schoolbag.

One pen sat on her desk
waiting to get the chance
to correct papers.

One pen wrote
in gel ink.

One pen was all dried up.