I spent a good part of the day yesterday experimenting with soap bubbles in an attempt to determine what kind of middle school math activities might come from them. I'm still thinking about them and other childhood entertainments. When I was young I absolutely coveted my brother's marble collection. Here's a poem just for him (and me!)
Ode to Marbles
by Max Mendelsohn
I love the sound of marbles
scattered on the worn wooden floor,
like children running away in a game of hide-and-seek.
I love the sight
of white marbles,
blue marbles,
green marbles, black,
new marbles,
old marbles,
Read the entire poem.
The round up is being hosted by Jama at Jama Rattigan's Alphabet Soup. Do stop by and take in all the great poems being shared this week. Before you go, be sure to check out this week's poetry stretch results. Happy poetry Friday all!
I have many happy memories of playing marbles with my brother. One of the few times we didn't fight!
ReplyDeleteI love the perfect roundness and smoothness of marble, but have never dared to play; afraid of breaking them, I think, or maybe because only boys played marbles. Go figure.
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