A Predatory Walk

I wish I had had a camera with me on my walk the other day.  A cooper’s hawk flew low over the road (practically over my head) with a screeching squirrel squirming in its talons, the squirrel’s tail thrashing from side to side.  We followed the hawk to where it landed and watched it for a minute.  When we tried to get closer the hawk took off, carrying its meal to a more private place.  It was amazing to watch this forest hawk zip through a suburban neighborhood.

I tried to capture the moment in a poem, and am not quite satisfied with it.  I wrote a tanka–a thirty-one syllable poem.  Traditionally a tanka is a lyrical poem that savors beauty, first used between women and men in courtship.  It is supposed to include a turn in the third line from an image to a response to an image.  Watching a hunting hawk and its struggling prey is awe-inspiring to me, and I find a certain beauty in it–but I’m not sure a form that celebrates lyrical beauty and courtship is the appropriate one!  And I really wanted to keep the focus on our observation, not on an emotional response (because then the world would know how strange I truly am, relishing the sight of a squirrel’s demise!)  Perhaps I’ll find a better form for this, but for now here’s my poem:Juvenile-Coopers-hawk-in-flight

cooper’s hawk flies low
weighted with a screeching squirrel
whose tail flails and jerks
—we gape while hawk lands atop
its now silent, limp-tailed prey
     –Buffy Silverman, 2014

Happy spring!  To find all of today’s poetry posts, visit Today’s Little Ditty where Michelle is celebrating her birthday bash and Poetry Friday.18923_original

Happy Poetry Month!

So many exciting poetry events online in April!  If you have not yet perused all of this month’s poetry goodness, check out the full list at Jama’s Alphabet Soup.

My first stop for poetry inspiration this month was 100 Scope Notes, where Travis is inviting folks to write book spine poems.  I did not take many books with me for our North Carolina sojourn so  I wasn’t sure if I had enough titles on hand to make a sensible poem, but I managed to put two together with my large stack o’books from the Durham County Library:

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IMG_7964Catching fireflies on a summer night ranks high on my list of favorite activities.  Inspiration for this poem came from: Flicker Flash, a wonderful collection of light-related shape poems by Joan Bransfield Graham; Fireflies at Midnight, an animal poetry romp from dawn ’til dark by Marilyn Singer; and Starry Safari, a charming picture book for the youngest set by Linda Ashman.

Did you know that garter snakes swim in ponds and catch fish? Titles for this poem came from three exquisite poetry books: Splish, Splash, another book of shape poems by Joan Bransfield Graham, Tamera Will Wissinger’s Gone Fishing, A Novel in Verse, and Kate Coombs’ Water Sings Blue.  And look, my Garter Snake book is snuck in among these poetry greats!

I’m aiming to write at least one poem and read a poetry collection or picture book every day in April as part of the Angie Karcher’s RhyPiBoMo pledge.  Usually I fall behind on internet challenges, but maybe I’ll keep up with this one–so far, so good.

Here’s my April Fool’s Day poem, inspired by Miss Rumphius’ Monday Poetry Stretch, which in turn was inspired by Laura Purdie Salas’ project of writing riddle-ku (riddle haikus) every day in April.  Can you guess the answer to my riddle?

Fuzzy scrolls uncurl–
spring spirals of greenery
wave and greet the sun.
–Buffy Silverman, 4/1/2014

Here are a couple of photos that I took this week to help you out:IMG_8059

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The fiddleheads are up!  It must be spring.

 

 

In other April news, I’ve got a story this month in Click Magazine about nesting trumpeter swans.  Grab your favorite six-year old and listen to it here: http://www.clickmagkids.com/read/swan-lake

Check out today’s Poetry Friday links at The Poem Farm.

The Madness Continues

UnknownIt’s the Sweet Sixteen over at March Madness Poetry, and I’m still in the game.  My word for this round is flagrant.  My first thoughts about flagrant had nothing to do with biology or natural history–would it be possible for me to write a non-science poem?!  Perhaps there would be a trial for some flagrant violation of the law–maybe a trial of a fairy tale character.  What about Jack from Jack in the beanstalk?  Or the giant?  Or both Jack and the giant?  I finally settled on Goldilocks, and thought of all that might be included in a summary for the prosecution and the defense of her breaking-and-entering trial. Surely Goldilocks had read the welcome mat and took it to heart.  She probably saved the house from being burned down by taking the porridge off the stove. I googled “Goldilocks trial” in case there might be other ideas lurking…and found that my idea was less than original.  There were plays, mock trials, you tube videos, and more.  Back to the drawing board.  Perhaps rules at school could be flagrantly ignored.  But by whom?

IMG_4543.5.3.10wCaterpillars, of course (so much for the non-science related poem.)  I thought about an inchworm school where caterpillars learned to pose as sticks and leaves and flowers, and didn’t move for hours.  What might happen if a flashy monarch caterpillar came along…would it flagrantly ignore the classroom rules because it’s distasteful to birds?MonarchCaterpillarI-87-8

 

Here’s the poem I wrote, with apologies to any and all teachers in the audience!

6-flagrant
The Kings of the Caterpillar Class
by Buffy Silverman

Today’s the start of Inchworm School. Ms. Mothstein reads the rules:
No showing off! No gaudy clothes! Always hide and cower!
Every day wear camouflage: a stick, a leaf, or flower.

We learn to slip away on silk. We never drop our guard.
Ms. Mothstein teaches safety tricks then leads us to the yard
where two new students wait for her. They’re creeping in plain sight.

They do not hide or dive or flee while crows and jays alight.
We stare in awe. We’ve never seen such stripy, curvy crawlers.
They’re dressed in black and white and yellow—bold, majestic colors.

Ms. Mothstein gasps! She shakes a wing in disbelief and glowers.
You are not dressed like sticks or leaves. You don’t resemble flowers!
Your flagrant disregard of rules will not be tolerated!

The monarchs laugh and munch their lunch. We’ll eat until we’re sated.
No bird will bother bitter-pillars, so stop your silly fussle.

And then a crow comes flapping by. No one moves a muscle.
We hear a snap! and then she’s gone: Ms. Mothstein lost the tussle.

If you’re reading this before 9:45 pm EST on Friday, you still have time to read and vote for the poem you prefer.  Please click on this link to find my match.  There are a lot more poems to savor at www.thinkkidthink.com.

18923_originalSpeaking of teachers who I hope I have not offended, visit A Year of Reading for links to all of today’s Poetry Friday offerings!

Dribble, dribble, shoot, swish…it’s time for more Madness!

r1f1-6-dearth-vs-11-appendage-1024x346March Madness Poetry has begun, and I’m matched with Matt Forrest in the first round of the games.  You can find our match here.  If you’re reading this before 2:00 p.m. on Friday, you still have time to vote for your top picks for most of the round one poems, including my match.  And if you’re a Friday night reader, rush over and vote for the second flight of the round one poems.

My assigned word for this round was dearth…and I had a dearth of ideas.  But Matt’s word (appendages) seemed promising.  I felt green with envy.  After knocking my head against the keyboard for quite some time, I borrowed it.  Who has a dearth of appendages?  A snake!

The poem I wrote is a departure from my usual nonfiction fare.  I started researching how snakes evolved from lizards into legless creatures and quickly realized that I was not going to write an interesting, child-friendly 8-line poem about the gradual shortening and loss of appendages that was better suited for tunnel-dwelling creatures.  Could I come up with a just-so story?  Well, I could try.  To heck with my evolutionary biologist husband.  I am now a proponent of Lamarckian inheritance–the more ridiculous the cause of the new trait, the better.

6-dearth
How the Snake Lost its Limbs: The Legend of Legless Lizzy
by Buffy Silverman

Long ago, in ancient times, a lizard left the ocean
to slog through bogs and stomp through swamps with leggy locomotion.
She raced past snails and paced with turtles, proud and in command–
until she spied Pteranodon who rose above the land.

For weeks she dreamed of soaring skies, then launched off from a mound–
but snapped her four appendages when crashing to the ground.
With loss of legs and dearth of hope, she never neared her goal.
She slithered through the swampy muck and snaked into a hole.

A modern-day legless lizard.

A modern-day legless lizard.

 

Matt’s approach to appendages was perhaps a tad more realistic–with a hint of pretzel and a side of tingles.  I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I did.

Check out all the Poetry Friday offerings today at The Drift Record!18923_original

Some Valentine Birds and a Little Snow Love

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I admit to feeling relief when I’ve read about the brutal cold and endless snow that I’ve missed during our North Carolina sojourn.  But I’ve missed winter too.  And that might explain why I felt like a kid longing for a no-school day when the snow started to fall on Wednesday.  I wasn’t thrilled about waking up IMG_6988to no power on Thursday, but we’re used to long power outages, and this one was over in the early afternoon.  Then the ice turned to huge fluffy flakes, and I was glued to the window again.  One full-fledged snowstorm a winter suits me well.

IMG_6832The birds at our feeder acted like they wondered why the heck they were spending the winter in North Carolina when serious snow started falling.  Eight cardinals, about twenty white-throated sparrows, some titmice, Carolina chickadees, Carolina wrens, house finches, two towhees, and a couple of bluebirds were flitting in and out of the bushes next to the feeder.  When the snow got heavier they perched in the shelter of the bush.  I captured a few of them in the photos on this page.IMG_6937

I was definitely in a mood to celebrate the snow when I saw Laura Purdie Salas’ 15 word-or-less poem prompt on Thursday afternoon.  Here’s an expanded version of the poem that her snow-cloud prompt inspired:

IMG_6810Recipe for a No-School Day

A bottle of blizzard
A gallon of glee
A bushel of books
A barrel of tea
A cubit of sun
An icicle tree
An acre of forts
A merriest me.
–Buffy Silverman, all rights reserved.

Happy Valentines’ Day, and Happy Poetry Friday!  Visit Linda Baie at TeacherDance for a sweet Valentine’s Day Poetry Friday celebration.IMG_6864IMG_6973

In the Moonlight

Two weeks ago, the mailman brought me a wonderful surprise–the January issue of Spider Magazine with a poem of mine! The poem was accepted several years ago (2007!) and I did not know it had been scheduled for publication. The January issue is the 20th anniversary of Spider Magazine, and it’s nice to be part of Spider’s birthday celebration (and to have Kristina Swarner’s terrific illustration accompany my poem.)

This poem was one of the best gifts my husband has given me.  He was looking out our upstairs window at the snow-covered yard and noticed that the long dark shadows of the trees on the moonlit snow looked like spider webs.  I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote this poem:

16.0114S-moonight

Looking for more poetry to keep you warm this winter?  Head over to I Think in Poems where Betsy is hosting Poetry Friday!18923_original

And if you’re looking for some inspiration for the new year, consider participating in Shannon Abercrombie’s  ”Start The Year Off Write” challenge.  I’ve signed up, and think it will be a good way to rev up the writing motor.Badge_StartTheYearOffWrite

Welcome to Poetry Friday!

It’s my first time hosting Poetry Friday, and I’ve worried about inviting all you poetry lovers to hang out at my blog.  I have no holiday decorations.  I’m not wearing party shoes.  And most importantly, I wasn’t sure what to share with all you PF flyers!

We’re in North Carolina for nine months (my husband has a sabbatical) and although it’s gotten cold a few times, it really doesn’t feel like winter–especially not when I see the weather I’m missing in Michigan.  I’m not inspired to deck the blog with poems of holly (although I did cut some holly today that’s growing wild in my NC yard.)  And we don’t really do Christmas.

But fortunately inspiration struck the other day.  We bought a Venus Flytrap a couple of months ago at the North Carolina Botanical Garden in nearby Chapel Hill.  (Did you know that the venus flytrap grows only in North and South Carolina?  I did not before visiting the garden.)  I’ve fed it a couple of flies, and it has caught several tiny flies on its own.  But on Wednesday morning I saw a bulging leaf trap, barely able to close around a large insect.  As I peered at the tiny leaf opening, I wondered if it had caught a ladybug!

The ladybug escapes!

The ladybug escapes!

Maybe ladybugs are attracted to flies that are attracted to the flytrap??  A few hours later I saw the ladybug struggling to escape.  I grabbed my camera and took a couple of photos just as it made its way out.  The battle between ladybug and flytrap inspired this poem:

 

As deadly as
a tiger’s teeth
        or spider’s web:
Your spiky leaf

can snap
        and trap
a hapless fly;
you snag each bug
that wanders by.

But yesterday
you met your match:
a ladybug
        you tried to catch.

The lady sniffed
your gaping grin
        with bits of bug–
She stumbled in,

Your leaf clamped shut
        and held her tight
You hugged her close
with all your might,

But lady thrashed
and lady fought
        till lady was
no longer caught.

–Buffy Silverman, all rights reserved

Please share your links in the comments, and I will add updates during the day.

Happy Poetry Friday!18923_original

Over at Life on the Deckle Edge, Robyn shares the final post of her WE HAIKU HERE series, with special guest poet and editor Terri L. French.

At Today’s Little Ditty, Michelle reviews Jeannine Atkins’ View from a Window Seat and shares a bit of Jeannine’s winter essay, “Words and Wreaths.”

Peek through the Blue Window and you’ll see “High Dive,” B.J. Lee’s limerick that was featured this week on Poetry Minute.  B.J. will be taking a hiatus, mending from a bad sprain.  Hope to see you back again soon, B.J.!

Laura Purdie Salas is in a snowy mood.  She’s sharing Dancin’ (Snow)man, an original poem, and a poem starter idea.  Sorry Laura, my two left feet cannot manage the Macarena.

If you’re looking for some choral appreciation, head over to A Teaching Life, as Tara shares Mark Doty’s poem, “Messiah.”

It’s time for “Picking out a Christmas Tree” (a poem from Christmas is Coming!) over at Father Goose’s blog.

Diane Mayr has three posts to share:
At Random Noodling she looks in and out of windows and sees cats and haiga.
Kurious Kitty has an old (1617!) poem celebrating the winter solstice.
KK’s Kwotes has a quote about where to find poetry from Vivé Griffith.

At The Teacher’s Dance Linda shares the swap poem (and beautiful collage!) she received from Irene Latham and some antique postcards with Christmas poems.

Jump off your dusty camel and head over to read Violet Nesdoly‘s  original Christmas poem, called “Guided.”

Over at Teaching Authors, April is interviewing Greg Pincus about his new middle grade novel which combines math and poetry!

And speaking of Greg, head over to GottaBook and read “Hard to Eat – A Christmas Poem,” an original seasonal poem with a side of sillies.

The snow is falling at Gathering Books, but Myra keeps us warm with a poem by Nerisa Guevara about one of her favorite places in Manila: ”The Heart of Malate.”

At Reading to the Core, Catherine shares the lyrics of “O Holy Night,” which began life as a poem, and a YouTube recording of the carol.

Climb up with the chocolate cat and enjoy the view from “The Sugar-Plum Tree” at The Opposite of Indifference, where Tabatha shares Eugene Field’s delightful poem.

Julie shares a list poem entitled “For It Feels Like February 29th or 30th” by Paul Violi at The Drift Record.  Julie warns the poem will make you laugh or scratch your head (I had a little bit of head scratching and several chuckles.)

Mary Lee shares a poem by Poet Laureate Kay Ryan and offers a give-away of Kay’s book (because Mary Lee’s birthday gifts included a signed first-edition of the book!)  Head over to A Year of Reading for a chance to win AND to host Poetry Friday.

Penny shares a spectacular ice photograph (taken by a friend’s daughter) and the haiku it inspired (written by Penny) at A Penny and her Jots. 

Margaret also received an amazing gift of a personal poem, and she shares Diane Mayr’s “Reflections on the Teche.”

Laura takes a walk with Thomas Hardy and the beautiful caroling bird in his poem “The Darkling Thrush.” That thrush helps her keep things in perspective at Author Amok.

Karen Edmisten shares a perfect poem for the season: Mary Oliver’s “Making the House Ready for the Lord.”

At The Miss Rumphius Effect, Tricia shares two haikus by Myra Cohn Livingston from Cricket Never Does, a treat she found this week at a used bookstore.

Irene shares good poetry news and offers a give-away of her book, The Sky Between Us, at Live Your Poem.

Tamera Will Wissinger shares a fun original poem about a child’s promises for Christmas Dinner, called “Mistletoed.”

Keri shares an original poem entitled, “Cookie Exchange.”  The poem will surely get you thinking about friendship and cookies–she also shares a shortbread recipe at Keri Recommends.

Liz Steinglass shares an original poem inspired by yesterday’s 15-word or less prompt.  My daughter make tiny perfect paper cranes out of paper napkin rings, so I’m going to send her this tiny perfect paper crane poem.

Ruth posts a thought-provoking poem about two minds entitled “Difference” by Stephen Vincent Benét at There is No Such Thing as a God-forsaken Town.

Janet writes a fast and fuzzy review of A Fuzzy-Fast Blur: Poems about Pets by Laura Purdie Salas at All About the Books.

Little Willow shares a delightful mask poem: “To a Post-Office Inkwell” by Christopher Morley at Bildungsroman.

Open the Drawer of M.M. Socks and you’ll find two original poems: The Christmas Room and Games!

Lorie Ann recommends Toys Galore by Peter Stein, a fun rhyming book for the toddler set, at readertotz.  Lorie Ann also has an original haiku at On Point.

Kortney shares “Annunciation,” an advent poem by Denise Levertov at One Deep Drawer.

Anastasia greets the icy weather with a haiku entitled “Winter’s Lace” at Poet! Poet!

The second review of the day for The 14 Fibs of Gregory K is in at Check It Out.  The book inspired Jone to write her own fib, which she shares on her blog.

Did I miss your link or get it wrong?  Please let me know!

A Fractured Fairy Tale for the Holidays

It’s time for the 3rd Annual Holiday Contest at Susanna Leonard Hill’s blog.  I was not planning to enter this one, but when I started reading some of the clever entries a couple of days ago, I was inspired to give it a shot.  Here are the rules:

“Write a children’s story about a Holiday Mishap, mix-up, miscommunication, mistake, or potential disaster (a la Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer :)).  Your story may be poetry or prose, silly or serious or sweet, religious or not, based on Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or whatever you celebrate, but is not to exceed 350 words not counting the title.”

I wrote a couple of fractured fairy tale ideas in my PiBoIdMo notebook in November.  So my brain turned to the Three Little Pigs.  And why not make them Chanukah-celebrating pigs?  Who misunderstand the kosher wolf’s intent?  Well, one reason might be that my first draft of a Three Little Pigs tale was about 600 words….but I’ve chopped and trimmed (good-bye, long-suffering Jewish mother!)  Without further ado, here is my holiday tale:

 

The Three Little Pigs Light the Chanukah Candles

Once upon a time three little pigs set out to see the world.  They carried baskets of latkes and Chanukah candles.

They stopped to roll in the mud.  They played until sunset.  “Where will we sleep?” asked Mottel.

“Under the stars,” said Yankel.

Mottel started to cry.

“Don’t worry, Mottel,” said Ruthie.  “We’ll build a house of mud.”

They dug a deep hole.  It was cozy inside.  And dark.

Mottel lit the candles.  The pigs ate latkes.

Behind the muddy house, Mr. Wolfowitz sniffed.  He smelled latkes.  And piglets.  “Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!” he growled.

The piglets hid in the mud.

Mr. Wolfowitz huffed and he puffed.  He blew the Chanukah candles out!

The three little pigs ran into the woods.

The next morning the three little pigs set out again.  They stopped to pick apples.  Then they took a nap.

When they awoke, the sun was setting.

“Where will we sleep?” asked Mottel.

“In the apple tree,” said Yankel.

Mottel started to cry.

“We’ll build a house of sticks,” said Ruthie.

So they gathered sticks and built a cozy house. Yankel lit the candles.

Someone growled.  “Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!”

The piglets trembled.

Mr. Wolfowitz huffed and puffed. He blew the Chanukah candles out!  The three little pigs ran and hid in the garden.

The next morning Mottel spotted a mud puddle.  He splashed Yankel.

But Ruthie stopped their game.  “Today we work before we play.”

They found bricks behind the shed.  They stacked them and built a strong house.

That night Mottel did not want to light the candles.  “The wolf will see us!”

Yankel agreed.

“It’s Chanukah,” said Ruthie.  “We have to light candles.”

Someone growled. “Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!”

Ruthie looked outside.  Mr. Wolfowitz looked lonely.  And hungry.

She opened the door.  “Would you like to join us?”

Yankel and Mottel trembled.

“Silly piglets,” said Mr. Wolfowitz.  “I don’t eat pork.  But I do eat latkes!”

The three little pigs and Mr. Wolfowitz sang songs and ate latkes.  The Chanukah candles burned brightly.

Happy Halloweensie

There’s an online Halloweensie Contest on Susanna Leonard Hill’s blog.  The rules of the contest are to write a 100-word or less Halloween story appropriate for weensie readers, using the words spooky, black cat, and cackle.  Here’s what I came up with:

I haven't photographed any witches or ghosts lately, but here's a giant millipede from last weekend's walk.

I haven’t photographed any witches or ghosts lately, but here’s a giant millipede from last weekend’s walk.

Witch and Ghost

Witch and Ghost walk hand in hand.
They pass Black Cat, sleek and grand.
A tree branch rattles.  Cold winds blow.
But Witch and Ghost have far to go.
Their shoes clip clop on long, dark roads.
Their backs are bent with heavy loads.
Witch climbs the steps.  She pulls the gate.
Ghost slips through.  They can’t be late.
They hear a cackle!  A spooky shriek!
A dark door opens with a creak.
Witch grips her broomstick.  In Ghost glides.
What frightful sights await inside?
–Buffy Silverman, 2013, all rights reserved

Not wanting to leave you with a cliff-hanger, here’s the Halloween party I picture as a final illustration:

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Well, maybe that’s the wrong kind of party for the weensie set.  (But in my defense, when you do a google image search for Halloween parties, most seem to be aimed at an adult audience.  When did Halloween become a grown-up affair I ask in my most curmudgeonly voice?)  This one might be more appropriate:kids-halloween-party-1

 

 

 

 

 

Are you suffering from a Halloween hangover?  Waltz on over to Teacher Dance where Linda Baie is hosting Poetry Friday and treat yourself to a healthy dose of poetry. 18923_original

The Mortimer Minute–Hoppy Friday!

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Hoppy Friday!  I’m happy to host Mortimer at my blog this week. 

Thanks to B.J. Lee for sending Mortimer my way after he visited the Blue Window.  Here’s how to hop “Mortimer Minute” style!

  • Answer 3 questions. Pick one question from the previous Hopper. Add two of your own. Keep it short, please! This is a Blog Hop, not a Blog Long Jump. This is the Mortimer Minute – not the Mortimer Millennium!
  • Invite friends. Invite 1-3 bloggers who love children’s poetry to follow you. They can be writers, teachers, librarians, or just plain old poetry lovers.
  • Say thank you. In your own post, link to The Previous Hopper, then keep the Mortimer Minute going – let us know who your Hoppers are and when they plan to post their own Mortimer Minute. 

Mortimer and I have had a lovely chat.  I tried to steer the conversation, but Mortimer is a bunny-in-charge.

small-bunny

Welcome, Mortimer!  You aren’t responsible for the shredded lettuce I passed on my walk today, are you?

Mortimer: Ahem.  I will ask the questions!  And here’s my first one: Is there a children’s poem that you wish you had written?

I love word-play, Mortimer.  I especially admire poems with fun word-play like Douglas Florian’s poem, “The Ticks:”

Not gigan-tic.
Not roman-tic.
Not artis-tic.
Not majes-tic.
Not magne-tic.
Nor aesthe-tic.
Ticks are strictly parasi-tic.
–Douglas Florian, “The Ticks” from Insectopedia, all rights reserved.

Isn’t that fantas-tic, Mortimer?

Mortimer:  Ticks!  Fantastic!?  Keep those blood-suckers away!  Here’s my next question: Don’t you have any itch-free poems that you admire?

Well yes, Mortimer, I’m partial to non-itchy poems too.  One of my goals when I write is to capture a sense of wonder about nature.  And that’s what  “Polliwogs” by Kristine O’Connell George does:

Come see
What I found!
Chubby commas,
Mouths round,
Plump babies,
Stubby as toes.
Polliwogs!
Tadpoles!

Come see
What I found!
Frogs-in-waiting–
Huddled in puddles,
Snuggled in mud. 
 –Kristine O’Connell George, “Polliwogs” from The Great Frog Race, all rights reserved.
 
Don’t you love those chubby commas, Mortimer?

Mortimer:  I do love critters that huddle and snuggle.  But how can you huddle and snuggle with slippery tadpoles!  Perhaps you should write about cute, furry animals if you want to inspire a sense of wonder….you know, poems about bunnies!  And that leads to my final question: Are there any word-playful, wonderous poems about bunnies that inspire you?

I know just the poem, Mortimer.  I think you’ll enjoy “Rabbit,” by Mary Ann Hoberman.

A rabbit 
         bit
A little bit
An itty-bitty
  Little bit of beet.
  Then bit
      By bit 
      He bit
              Because he liked the taste of it.
–Mary Ann Hoberman, “Rabbit” from The Llama Who Had No Pajama, all rights reserved.

Hop over here and scroll to page 18 to read the rest.


Mortimer:
 Well that’s more like it!  And who have you invited to hop next Friday?P13

I’m pleased to tag my pal Debbie Diesen.  Debbie is the author of the Pout-Pout Fish, a NY Times best-selling rhyming picture book, and an ever-growing list of Pout-Pout sequels.  Picture Day Perfection, her latest gem, is full of picture day mayhem.

A new pout-pout arrives next summer!

A new pout-pout arrives next summer!

Debbie is an incredibly generous author, sharing the spotlight with other authors through the Michigander-Monday feature on her blog.  And rumor has it that she likes bunnies!

Wiggle your whiskers and visit Laura Purdie Salas for today’s Poetry Friday Roundup.