Bless You

Ava learned about haiku yesterday, and wrote her first one:

A flower is like
a pretty little lady
sitting on the dirt.

Papa Picked A Peck Of Poems

While instant messaging with my brother Andrew the other day, he shared a poem with me. It was a favorite of my dad's, and Dad had copied down and given it to Andrew long ago. I know I've said that I hate most poetry, but I have to say the poems that have spoken to Dad are always ones that I love. He's a good picker.

Victory In Defeat
by Edwin Markham

Defeat may serve as well as victory
To shake the soul and let the glory out.
When the great oak is straining in the wind,
The boughs drink in new beauty, and the trunk
Sends down a deeper root on the windward side.
Only the soul that knows the mighty grief
Can know the mighty rapture. Sorrows come
To stretch out spaces in the heart for joy.

A Poet, I Know It

Remember my Ode To Teddy? You'll see here that my poetic voice hasn't changed much since elementary school...

Um, and what did I know of bars in 5th grade? And why do my poems always involve death?



A monkey saw a flea one day
and invited him to tea.
The monkey did not make him pay
but said "Dear flea, it's free!"

They had cake and coffee too
Then had meat and peas
The flea then said he must go home,
But he could not find his keys.

They weren't in his coat,
nor in his car,
then he remembered,
they were at the bar!

He ran to the bar,
bumped into a man,
Who had some hot water,
fresh out of the pan.

The water hit him,
Boy, was it hot!
Poor little flea,
died right on the spot!

- Suzanne Lewis, Grade 5, Rm 19

Duncan Hines, Read This

Maybe Ava takes after Andrew?

There Once Was A Fellow McSweeney...

So, I am not a big fan of poetry. I've never found a poem that spoke to me. Poems, to me, are either whiny emotional rants, or rambling analogies for non-important things. I get that they speak to other types, but for me, they hold no value. At least none that I've read so far in my life. Maybe I just haven't happened upon "my kind" of poet.

The k12 curriculum that Agora Cyber Charter School uses, teaches a lot of poetry in the Language Arts course. I think that's fantastic that the kids are learning about poetry, I just have a hard time teaching it.

But I guess either I'm doing an okay job, or Ava just has a natural knack for poetry. Yesterday she had to write a poem about rain. I like hers better than the Robert Louis Stevenson one that we read for "inspiration"...


(It's raining here and there,
Come and jump in puddles.
Splash! Jumping is fun!
We're all wet!)

An Ode To Teddy

There once was a dog named Teddy
who was scared to eat, so instead, he
took food from your hand
as long as you didn't stand,
but not 'til he was good and ready.

He ate dogs from a china plate,

loved sneaking out of the gate.
baby blankets he'd hump,
at the answering machine he'd grump,
for post-poop butt wiping he'd wait.

Chasing tennis balls made him so frantic,
If they got stuck in a corner he'd panic.
When a stranger he'd see,
a pit bull he would be,
which was such a ridiculous antic.


He needed a stepstool to climb
into my parents' bed, past his prime.
He slept like a rock,
never chewed on your socks
And was always to the groomer on time.



Now his time here is over.
He's sleeping under the clover.
We shall never forget
my Mom's spoiled pet,
The dog whose name wasn't Rover.