Monday, April 22, 2019

NPM 2019 Day 22: Book Spine Poem for Earth Day

For today's entry I culled my poetry shelves to create a poem for Earth Day.

Outside your window
red sings from treetops
land, sea, and sky
swirl by swirl
the Earth is painted green

Weather report?
sky magic
thunder underground

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2019. All rights reserved.

Book spine poem brought to you by:
Outside Your Window: A First Book of Nature by Nicola Davies
Red Sings From Treetops: A Year in Colors by Joyce Sidman
Land, Sea, & Sky: Poems to Celebrate the Earth by Catherine Paladino
Swirl by Swirl: Spirals in Nature by Joyce Sidman
The Earth is Painted Green: A Garden of Poems About Our Planet by Barbara Brenner
Weather Report by Jane Yolen
Sky Magic compiled by Lee Bennett Hopkins
Thunder Underground by Jane Yolen


Happy Monday all. See you tomorrow for another original poem.

Sunday, April 21, 2019

NPM 2019 Day 21: Lunch Box Blues

Today I'm sharing another blues poem I wrote for my son when he was six. This grew out of my experience as a child with school lunches, which included healthy and unhealthy choices, and his very particular tastes. I should note that he'll be graduating this year after taking his lunch to school all 13 years. For most of those years he refused to eat bread, so his lunch meat was packed in neat little rolls. Some years he wanted carrots, while others it was cucumbers. The one constant through it all was a square of Ghirardelli dark chocolate.

Lunch Box Blues
I eat a brown bag lunch
in the dining hall at noon
a peanut butter sandwich
September through to June
That same old peanut butter
gonna’ send me to the moon
oh man I gotta’ say it
got the doggone lunch box blues!

No Lunchables in my sack
no sandwich made of Fluff
no Ho Hos, chips or candy
just the same old healthy stuff
That peanut butter sandwich
it’s gonna’ make me snap
oh man I gotta’ say it
got the doggone lunch box blues!

I know my Momma loves me
feeds me good stuff every day
grapes and cheese and carrots
a healthy food buffet
And yes, that peanut butter
looks like it’s here to stay
oh man I gotta’ say it
got the doggone lunch box blues!

I’d trade it all for junk food
like pizza or some fries
a chocolate covered pretzel
or non-vegetable surprise
You see that peanut butter
has lost all of its appeal
ain’t no other way to say it
got the doggone lunch box blues!

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2007-2019. All rights reserved.


Happy Sunday all. See you tomorrow for another original poem.

Saturday, April 20, 2019

NPM 2019 Day 20: A Terzanelle

I've been playing around for a while with writing a villanelle, but it hasn't been working, so I took some of the lines I liked and put them into a terzanelle. A terzanelle is cross between a terza rima and a villanelle. It uses the villanelle’s form of five triplets and a quatrain with the interlocking rhyme scheme of the terza rima.

Inspired by Amy Ludwig VanDerwater's site Sharing Our Notebooks, and the recent workshop I gave entitled The Art and Science of Nature Journaling, I've been writing more poems in my nature journal. This poem is my first draft about the act of observing and journaling. It needs a lot of work, but it's a start.

Untitled Terzanelle
With a scientist’s eye and poet’s heart
nature’s recorded in fine detail
with words chosen carefully, journal as art

observe river and stream, hill and vale
note all that you hear, touch, smell and see
nature recorded in fine detail

sketch flora and fauna, that robin, that tree
stop for a moment to take it all in
note all that you hear, touch, smell and see

taking stock of the world lights a fire within
humbles the soul with such beautiful sights
stop for a moment to take it all in

sunset gives way to bright twinkling lights
the moon and the stars, all the heavens inspire
humble the soul with such beautiful sights

keep your eyes open, make time to admire
with a scientist’s eye and poet’s heart
the moon and the stars, all the heavens inspire
your words written carefully, journal as art

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2019. All rights reserved.


Happy Saturday all. See you tomorrow for another original poem.

Friday, April 19, 2019

NPM 2019 Day 19: Rainy Day Blues

Last week my social studies methods class engaged in a series activities designed to explore the events around the Dust Bowl. In using primary sources, we listened to the Woody Guthrie song Dust Bowl Blues. That got me thinking about blues poetry. (You can read more about it at Blues Poem: Poetic Form.)

When William was six I wrote a number of blues poems for him, among them poems entitled Lunch Box Blues and Bedtime Blues. Today I'm sharing another I wrote for him in the spring of 2007 and recently revised.

Rainy Day Blues
Clouds loomin' and thunder boomin'
skies grayin' and people sayin'
here come the rainy day blues.

Drops ploppin' and garden soppin'
puddles growin' and rivers flowin'
with rainy day blues.

Gutters spillin' and pools fillin'
ground seepin' and trees weepin'
with rainy day blues.

Hair drippin' and shoes squishin'
umbrella flyin' -- there's no denyin'
I got the rainy day blues.

Skies clearin' and sunshine nearin'
storms endin' with rainbow bendin'
no more rainy day blues!

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2007-2019. All rights reserved.


I do hope you'll take some time to check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Amy Ludwig VanDerwater at The Poem Farm. Happy poetry Friday friends! See you tomorrow for another original poem.

Thursday, April 18, 2019

NPM 2019 Day 18: Ode to an Oriental Rug

Our first house in Richmond was a lovely little bungalow style house built in 1925. It had plaster walls, hardwood floors, and so much character.  Despite the absence of air conditioning and a dishwasher, I loved it. Just a few months before William was born, my in-laws gifted us with a rug. In large part, I believe this was because they didn't want our new baby crawling around on a bare floor. Instead of a thank you note, I wrote them a poem. I came across it recently while backing up my computer files. It's corny, but it was from the heart.

Ode to An Oriental Rug

I hate to wear slippers
as you both know
now we've a carpet
to warm my cold toes

The colors are lovely
the texture so lush
our living room now
oh, how we could gush!

Each day we observe it
and see something fun
a shade or a pattern
that's so finely spun

We imagine our baby
this time next year
crawling upon it
in full baby gear!

So lucky a child
who will get to explore
the home being lived in
on more than cold floors

You just can't imagine
how lucky we feel
to own such a prize
it doesn't seem real

Please visit us soon
you'll be happy to see
a warm cozy room
for the Hunt family

We can't thank you enough
for all that you do
whether gifts or advice
love always shines through

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2019. All rights reserved.


Happy Thursday all. See you tomorrow for another original poem.

Wednesday, April 17, 2019

NPM 2019 Day 17: Where Readers Come From

Here's another poem I wrote for the summer poetry swap in 2017. This poem was written for Jone MacCulloch of DeoWriter and Check It Out. Since Jone is a librarian (retired), I knew I wanted to write about readers or books. Using George Ella Lyon's poem Where I'm From as a mentor text, this is what I came up with.

Where Readers Come From
     (with apologies to George Ella Lyon)

Readers come from songs,
   from rhyme and finger play.
They come from recitation and repetition
    (all those Moo, Baa, La La La’s
   and Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?)
They come from Sunday comics,
   cereal boxes and read alouds
   that feature character voices,
   sound effects,
   and mood lighting.
They come from independent bookstores and libraries,
  from authors and librarians.

They come from
   Once upon a time,
   happily ever after,
  “It was a dark and stormy night,” and
   “There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.”
They come from Minli, Harriet, and Ramona,
   from Clementine, Omakayas, and Baby Mouse.
They come from Stanley Yelnats, Auggie Pullman, and Jackson Greene,
   from Jin Wang, Octavian Nothing, and Captain Underpants.
They come from Narnia, Middle Earth, and Hogwarts,
   from Panem, Redwall, and the Island of Berk.

Readers come from “It’s past your bedtime,”
  with flashlights under the covers
  turning page after page,
  racing to the end.

Readers come from letters strung into words
  and words arranged in a million different ways
  into stories that leave us
  gloomy or cheerful,
  quiet or agitated,
  exasperated or pleased,
  and every human emotion in between.

Under my pillow is a well-worn book
  pages bent
  cover crinkled.
I am from this book --
from all those that came before --
and all those yet to come.

Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2017. All rights reserved.


Happy Wednesday all. See you tomorrow for another original poem.

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

NPM 2019 Day 16: A Poem on Time

Today I'm sharing a poem I wrote of draft of nearly 10 years ago for one of my weekly poetry challenges. The theme was time and I wrote about how quickly time seemed to be passing as I watched my son grow. Well, that son is now on the cusp of adulthood, preparing to graduate from high school, so it seemed appropriate to dust this one off and revise.

Untitled

On the day you entered this world
sand in the hourglass of life
dropped to the bare bottom
stacking grain upon grain
building a tiny hill.

Unable to flip the glass
(oh how I wish I could!)
I watch the hill grow taller.

I long to narrow the neck
slow the march of time
that steals childhood
propels you to eighteen.


Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2019. All rights reserved.


Happy Tuesday all. See you tomorrow for another original poem.