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Autumn Movement by Carl Sandburg

I first read this poem in the fall of 2014. The first line struck me so completely, I didn’t even need the rest of the poem. Profound.

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I cried over beautiful things

knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow

is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman,

the mother of the year,

the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes

and the yellow is torn full of holes,

new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow

on the northwest wind,

and the old things go,

not one lasts.

Check out our new layout!

Emily DickinsonFor quite some time now I’ve been aware that the layout of our resource pages could stand to be a little easier on the eyes. Yes, the content is GREAT, but wouldn’t it be nice if it was also visually pleasing?

 

Well, I’ve been thinking about this, and recently got to work on it while putting together our Emily Dickinson page (because YES! we are working on  poet study collections too!  Should be ready in August!).

 

Want a peek?  Come see what I’ve done.  Over the next few months I’ll be working my way through every resource page, converting it over to this beautiful new layout, PLUS I have a user guide/suggested schedule that I’m working on for you as well!  So, basically there will be two BIG upgrades coming to all collections this year!  This will be at no extra cost to you, it will just make everything that we have better than ever.

 

What do you think?  Do you have any suggestions that could make it even better?  I’d love to hear your ideas.

Why We Need Poetry

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As my husband and I are working on our upcoming poet/poetry collections, I found this TED Talk and wanted to share it with you.  I found it interesting and inspirational.  Some adult topics are addressed in this talk.

 

Also loved this poem:

FROM far, from eve and morning
And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither: here am I.

Now—for a breath I tarry
Nor yet disperse apart—
Take my hand quick and tell me,
What have you in your heart.

Speak now, and I will answer;
How shall I help you, say;
Ere to the wind’s twelve quarters
I take my endless way.
~A. E. Housman (1859–1936)

Father’s Day Poem

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“Fathers…
Rise at dawn.
Stand up strong.
Fix and build.
Plow the field.
Carry the weight.
Work ’til late.
Encourage our dreams.
Provide the means.
Fight with might.
Defend what’s right.
Protect the home.
Refuse to roam.
Forge the way.
Take time to play.
Spoil our moms.
Keep homelife calm.
And all because
of selfless love.”

~Richelle E. Goodrich

Jabberwocky read by Neil Gaiman

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Jabberwocky is such an interesting poem because it is created with a ton of nonsense words, and yet the way it is put together definitely brings about a mood, such that the reader still feels like they understand a lot of what’s going on.

This is a great poem to share with your kids.  You can read it out loud in different ways, deciding which way you all think is truest to what the poem is about.  You can take the opportunity to write down a few of the nonsense words and ask your kids to define them.  (Hey!  There are no wrong answers, but it’s a great opportunity for fun, to think, and to communicate their thoughts.)

 

Jabberwocky
by Lewis Carroll, 1872

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought —
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!’
He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Otherwise by Jane Kenyon

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I found this poem today and it hit me in the heart.  Had to share it with you.  It’s good to be thankful for the beauty of our everyday lives, isn’t it?

 

Otherwise[mashshare]

 

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