April is a moody child. I understand. I was born in April. Even though she storms and rages, I am drawn to her springtime glory. I am in awe of blessed April.
Category: growth mindset
April Poem #7: Puddle-Wonderful
Rainy days are puddle days for me. Days to stop and ponder my imagination. Wouldn't it be grand to jump in and slide into another world like Alice through the looking glass?
April Poem #6 – Subterranean
It has been raining all night and is forecasted to rain for the next three days. It is April. This is to be expected. Rain is what we need, wet sustenance. The water feeds the seeds and plants, the greenery feeds minds and imaginations.
April Poem #5: April Four Square
Yesterday afternoon, as I was talking to a colleague, we glanced out my office window to both be surprised by a party of blue jays sitting in a budding magnolia tree. They were close enough to touch. I wanted to keep them there. Keep them in my memory. What better way to do that than to write a poem. April offers so many gifts, if you are present to see them.
April Poem #4 – A Galaxy of Words
I have been a lover of words from the moment I heard my mother sing to me. Words were magic and for years I tried to teach that magic to children. But can you really teach magic?
April Poems #3: Make Your Presence Known
The rain says, "It's okay to go no where. You can stop being busy. You can read, write a poem, lay in bed with your head under the pillows. It is perfectly fine to rest. In fact, I demand that you rest!" And so I listen to the rain.
April Poetry #2 – Vernality
I am a word lover. I am intrigued by meaning and morphology. I love to ponder where words have been and what I can possibly sculpt them into. Can I take an old word and use it in a new way?
April Poetry #1: April Remembers
This month, I am going to try my hand at writing poetry every day. April is my birth month so it's perfect that it is also National Poetry Month. For as long as I can remember, I have been writing poetry.
Grateful Writer
Before I could write, I loved to tell stories. I told stories to anyone who would listen. I loved to listen to other people’s stories too. I was a master eavesdropper by the time I was four. I loved the warp and weft of the words people told.
Growth Power
The funny thing, like plants, children don’t always grow in a straight line reaching directly up to sun, luscious and fragrant. Sometimes growth takes a hard, circuitous route and more time than expected.
Word Dancer: Literature, the Arts, & Education 