POETRY FRIDAY

One more day and then winter break. Like many schools, we no longer have holiday parties. Today we are having a read-a-thon. I'm bringing in all my holiday books and we'll spend the morning sharing poetry and books and snacks and friendship.

I hope that we will have a blast. My students don't have much in the way of material things. Yesterday one of my little gals told me Santa is coming to her house on January 15th because he has to buy her mom a "new" car this month. Most of my kids get stuff like shoes and coats. Some won't have Christmas at all.

More than anything, I want my students to know the power of books. I want them to understand, in a deep and life changing way, that books are a place of deep joy, a way of understanding your own life and the lives of others, a ticket to unknown worlds, and maybe a ticket to college. I want them to know that books and poems and words bring a richness that money can't buy.

This week, as I was reading and rereading some of the CYBILS poetry nominees, I found a poem that captures what I want for my students. "Who's Rich?" by Naomi Shihab Nye is one of thirteen poems in Lee Bennett Hopkins, I AM THE BOOK. Lots of terrific reading-related poems in this book-- couldn't decide today, whether to use "Poem" by Jane Yolen, or "When I Read" by Beverly McLoughland. Also thought about "I Am the Book" by Tom Robert Shields, or "What Was That?" by Rebecca Kai Dotlich, Karla Kuskin's "Wonder Through the Pages," or "Book" by Poem Farm (and Poetry Friday's) Amy Ludwig VanDerwater. All of the poems in this book are just plain lovely.

"Who's Rich?"

Naomi Shihab Nye

Who's rich?
The boy with a book he hasn't read yet
The girl with a tower of books by her bed.
She opens and opens and opens.
Her life starts everywhere.

Who's rich?
Anyone befriended again and again
by a well-loved book.

This is a wealth
we never lose.

Poetry Friday is at Kate Coombs' BOOK AUNT.

POETRY FRIDAY

Untitled

William Ross Wallace

They say that man is mighty

He governs land and sea

He wields a mighty spectre,

O'er lesser powers that be,

But a mightier power and stronger

Man from his throne has hurled,

For the hand that rocks the cradle,

Is the hand that rocks the world.

I spent a good chunk of yesterday in first grade, helping children prepare gift poems for Mother's Day. Not sure we have any future Mary Olivers, but I think some moms are going to be really happy on Sunday.

My Mom

My mom looks beautiful

My mom feels like smooth skin

My mom smells like perfume

My mom sounds like music

My mom dances like crazy!

KH

My Mom

My mom looks like candy.

She smells like mint.

She feels like gummy bears.

She likes cherries.

DR

My Mom

My mom

Looks like an angel

Sounds like a kitten

Feels like a marshmallow

And smells like green beans.

My mom is a cook.

My mom is an artist.

My mom is nice.

I love my mom.

By DS

Mom

I know she looks beautiful

I know she smiles all the time

I know she sounds fun

I know she feels soft like a bed

And she smells like chicken soup

I know my mom.

ECR

“My Mom”

My mom looks like a sweet teddy bear to me;

My mom feels like a soft bird when she hugs me.

My mom smells like a purple rose.

My mom has a voice like music.

I feel like I have more company

when I’m with her.

I love my mom.

By GH

My Mom

She has dark hair like chocolate,

Her hugs make me feel happy and surprised,

Her hugs protect me.

She is sometimes soft

And sometimes loud

And sometimes funny.

My mom loves me

and I love my mom.

By AB

My Mom

My mom looks like a cupcake

because she is pretty.

My mom feels soft like marshmallows.

My mom smells like strawberry jam.

My mom sounds like singing birds.

My mom makes me feel good.

I love my mom.

By MB

My Mom

My mom is skinny and soft.

My mom’s voice sounds like a flute.

She loves me.

She is my mom.

By JSO

Poetry Friday is at THE FAMILY BOOKSHELF (formerly Scrub-A-Dub Tub)