I'm Anna. I'm a follower of Jesus, mother of three, thrifter, crafter, wife, sister, daughter, and friend. My goal is to live out each of these roles with creativity, and this is where I write about some of that. Thanks for stopping by! I hope you'll take a minute to leave a comment so I know you were here.
The Bear
by Emma (age 6)
I have yellow hayr.
I look like a bear.
Gr gr I look like a bear.
Can you ges who I am?
Gr gr
He's a bear of cors!
We entered this one into the Arthur poetry web site, where there are great descriptions of several forms of poetry. Seems like the perfect place to start, for kids and grown-ups. We're going to check back soon to see if they published Emma's piece.
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A couple weeks ago I went on a little field trip with my dad. He is currently leading a small group at our church called "Art and Faith". Each week the group explores the idea of using art to express faith, worship, prayer, and other aspects of the Christian life. They also meet at different artsy locations to learn new techniques and processes.
The week I tagged along, we went to the DMA. They regularly host guest speakers, and this time we heard a guy named Austin Kleon, author of the book Newspaper Blackout.
The book is a collection of poems that he wrote by blacking out the words in the newspaper that he didn't want to use in the poem. What's left is a visually-appealing work of poetry.
Kleon's lecture was excellent and intriguing, but my favorite part of the night was the lab that he taught after the speech was over. We all sat at tables stocked with newspapers and magic markers while we tried our hand at blackout poetry. It was fun, but much more challenging than I had anticipated. Here's the one I finally hacked out during the workshop time.
In case you are having a hard time reading it:
This was her dream/To experience the never-ending dance/But that's not going to happen/wearing oversized shoes
The funny thing is, I found the most difficult aspect to be manipulating the marker around the words I wanted to keep! The other challenge is making your words go from top to bottom, left to right--which mine do not, obviously. But we were allowed to use arrows or other devices to work around that, if needed. I kind of like the effect; I think it looks a little like a dance-step diagram.
Anyway, that's my poem of the week. I'd like to write more of these, but have found them a little mind-numbing--kind of like a round of Sudoku makes you feel. But I urge you to try this for yourself, and let me know how it goes! Have fun, and leave me a link in the comments if you write one.
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Momma Bird
Sweet Momma Bird
It seems like only yesterday
We marveled at the careful way
You worked to make your family's nest,
Then gently laid your eggs to rest
Sweet Momma Bird
Good Momma Bird
It wasn't long before we heard
The hungry peeps of tiny birds.
And thus began your solid week
Of foraging to fill those beaks.
Good Momma Bird
Dear Momma Bird
Before another week had flown
We saw your babes were almost grown
They gave their tender wings a test...
Then hopped right out and left the nest!
Dear momma bird
Poor Momma Bird
Did you know how the time would fly,
Before you'd have to say goodbye?
They seemed too small to leave their home
And face the world all on their own
Poor Momma Bird!
Oh Momma Bird
My human heart just breaks for you,
Because I know I one day too
Will say goodbye to my little ones
Before I feel the time has come.
Oh Momma Bird!
Thanks, Momma Bird.
Your presence in my life explains
That all my work is not in vain.
Each scrape I kiss, each nose I wipe,
Prepares my babes for their first flight.
So now I'll say goodbye to you--
I've got some mothering to do.
Thanks, Momma Bird.
The last baby bird, minutes before he left the nest for good.
From the moment the first egg was laid, to the day the last baby bird flew away, only 20 days passed. I loved watching this little family interact, but the feeling I got when the last one was gone caught me off guard. Where did the time go? Weren't they too small and too vulnerable to be on their own? (They didn't even have their tail feathers yet!) Would their Momma ever see them again? Obviously, I was projecting a little too much human emotion onto these animals, but it truly made me stop and think about how quickly this season of life will be over. These days can be challenging, but each one is a blessing--full of laughter, love, and life lessons.
It has been several weeks since our little cardinal family left the planter on the front porch, but the other day, I got a special treat. I thought I heard the familiar sound of a young cardinal (his chirp has a little trill that the adults don't have), and when I looked up, I saw Daddy Bird flying from perch to perch, followed by one of his young offspring. I guess parenting doesn't have to end just because the little ones have left the nest.
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A Late Night Haiku
Dawn is approaching.
Sleepless, we await the sun.
Night and day are one.
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Yes, that's all I have in me for this week. Hope you are all having a great one. Baby bird pictures coming soon!
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The Wednesday before Esther was born, I was sitting in my car watching the birds in my yard. There were cardinals, male and female, flitting around and through my front yard, chasing each other, and not caring a single bit that a human being was nearby. One of the males even landed on my side mirror while I was still in the car, and began admiring himself in the reflection. So I sent my mom this quick little poem-text:
Twitterpated
Look outside if you get the chance,
And watch the cardinals' mating dance.
I was only guessing that that's what was going on, but it made a cute little poem anyway. It turns out that I was right. Come back tomorrow to see what we found next!
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Homecoming
I'm strongest when I need to be,
Was strongest when you needed me,
To wrap our children in my arms,
And keep them safe from every harm.
Their momma's wings they'll stay within,
til Daddy's home again.
I calm their fears from every fright,
Keep watch by day, and more by night,
Fevers, doctors, bedtime tales,
Homework, playtime, new pet snails,
The weariness cannot set in
til Daddy's home again
Then finally the day is here,
And in the doorway you appear,
The tears I held inside before,
Now pour out freely to the floor.
You scoop me up, a melted mass,
My firm resolve like shattered glass.
Now I can let my strength wear thin,
'cause Daddy's home again.
Thank God you're home again.
**the tiniest notion of how I felt after holding down the fort for two weeks. So glad it's over!**
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To My Unborn Baby Girl
--Not Due for Four Weeks Yet--
Chasing butterflies and bees,
Falling down and scraping knees...
Building towers out of blocks,
Stretching, reaching, skipping rocks...
Whirling, twirling, playing fiddle,
Hula hoop around your middle...
Walkling, rocking, swimming laps,
Running bases, dancing tap...
Turning handsprings, hopping scotch,
Planning shows for us to watch...
Jumping, hopping, pony riding,
Twisting, bopping, Seek-n-Hiding...
Flying folded aeroplanes,
Setting up a bowling lane...
Wrestling, running, toppling, tripping,
Painting, sculpting, sliding, slipping...
Bumping, pushing, flipping, flopping,
Jumping, thumping, never stopping...
Little one, I don't know what you are doing in there, but would you be still for FIVE MINUTES so I could get some rest?!
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I'm currently working on a poem about the new baby, but until I get it just right, I thought I'd share these simple little verses...just to get my feet wet.
Savor
Nothing lingers so long after
As the sound of children's laughter.
Strategy
Don't make that impish face at me!
You know that you're in trouble!
And if you make me crack a smile...
...Your sentence just might double.
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Does anyone remember poetry wedensday? I used to post a poem here each week, just to keep my writing skills in order. I've been missing it a lot lately, so I think I'll try to start it up again. If you blog and want to join me in this challenge, please do! And leave me your link in my comments so we can share in each other's poems.
I'll start with an old one that I wrote in '07.
"Spring"
Spring is here again
Plants are pushing through the ground,
And all around I hear the sound.
Of Squealing children on the wind
'Cause Spring is here again.
Finally, it's Spring!
We've waited for what seemed like years,
But now the snow has disappeared,
And baby birds test out their wings.
Oh, finally it's Spring.
It is Spring at last.
The sun is warm against the breeze.
We'll plant poppies and sweet peas.
Soon we'll have to cut the grass.
Yes, it is Spring at last!
I'll be back with a new one next week. See you then!
--Anna
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A Poppy I Once Knew
I saw a poppy blooming, underneath my family tree,
And as I walked up on her, she turned for me to see.
Her petals wrinkled slightly, her lovely silken cheek.
To say that she was lovely, would be to under-speak.
As the wind blew all around her, I thought I heard her sing,
While her leaves began to twist and sway in a dance to welcome Spring.
I visited my poppy when ever I had a chance,
And she never failed to greet me with her funny song and dance.
But flowers are not meant to last, and so it was with mine,
For soon my dainty bloom began to show the mark of time.
Her happy serenading became a whispered hush,
Her vibrant shade of crimson faded to a gentle blush.
While she was on the earth, she was an endless source of fun--
But now she lifts her petals for the glory of the Son.
I miss my lovely blossom, but I cannot help but think,
That she's brightening the heavens in a glowing shade of pink.
**For my grandmother, "Poppy" Wagher. She lost her battle with breast cancer last year, but we continue to fight in her place. Several of her daughters (and sons-in-law) will be walking for the cure this year in Arizona, so from now until November, 10% of the sales from my shop will be added to their cause. Or, if you just want to donate and not buy anything from me, click here. They have named their team "Poppy's Petals."**
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