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Life on the Deckle Edge

Poetry Friday - New Online Antho Class from Sylvia & Janet, and a Poem from Janet Clare Fagal

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!

You might know that Sylvia Vardell and Janet S. Wong met years ago at a conference, and the Kidlit Poetry World has never been the same since.  ;0)  Their publishing enterprise Pomelo Books has produced many wonderful poetry anthologies for kids in the last decade, all classroom-friendly, too.  Several of us Poetry Friday folks are privileged to have poems in them, along with dozens of other poets. 

 

Sylvia just retired from a 30-year career teaching children's literature (and teaching teachers) at Texas Woman's University, and she has been a valued member of several important committees across a variety of literacy organizations.  She's also trekked across the world getting good books into the hands of kids, donning her signature one-of-a-kind outfits featuring poetry themes! She's continuing poetry-centric endeavors in her new adventures. 

 

Janet is the 2021 NCTE Award for Excellence in Poetry for Children winner, with 21 books to her credit BEFORE she started co-producing anthologies.  Her A SUITCASE OF SEAWEED was released again a couple of years ago as A SUITCASE OF SEAWEED AND MORE, and that version of the suitcase became stuffed with several prestigious awards! She came to the kidlit world after practicing law, and has also volunteered with many literacy organizations.  

 

One group Janet and Sylvia are both involved with is IBBY (International Board on Books For Young People). Proceeds from their latest series of books go to the IBBY Children in Crisis Fund, which connects vulnerable children in several countries with literacy programs.

 

What is their latest series of books, you ask?  It's a group of anthologies with fantastic poems accompanying photographs of kids, and these have grown from the soil of anthhology workshops this Dynamic Poetry Duo started offering last year.  The classes are called Antho 101, 201, 301 and 401.  I've been enjoying reading lots of Poetry Friday posts about them, and was lamenting that I couldn't make the schedule happen when the workshops first emerged.  

 

But, lo and behold, this summer, when they offered Antho 401 (poetry targeted for ages 8 & up), I WAS able to join in.  I've enjoyed watching the videos and writing submissions for the book attached to this class, and helping to evaluate other poems for consideration.  Sylvia and Janet generously put participants through ALL the paces of creating and anthology - and let us peek in on their own spirited discussions of which pictures to select and why, etc., etc. I am looking forward to the live, online class gathering in a few weeks.

 

AND... they are offering Antho 201 (poetry targetd to very young readers) AGAIN this fall!  It includes recorded sessions, a live class, and a new book to be created! I'm signing up for this reprise, too, since I missed it before. 

 

Here's the scoop with an overview of the workshops and dates and registration info:

 

https://pomelobooks.com/anthologies-101

 

and here's a blog post from earlier in the year with some more information about this workshop series:

 

http://poetryforchildren.blogspot.com/2022/02/learning-about-poetry-anthologies.html

 

The published books in this series (so far!) include these collections for younger readers: THINGS WE DO, THINGS WE EAT, and THINGS WE FEEL.  

 

Here's a taste from THINGS WE DO - a delightful poem by one of our Poetry Friday friends that stole my heart, as I'm still basking in becoming a grandmother earlier this summer. (Each poem in this book corresponds to a letter of the alphabet - this one is for 'W'.)

 

WAVE

 

by Janet Clare Fagal

 

When we leave Grandma's,

she stands in the yard.

 

We get in our car.

I wave really hard.

 

Her smile is the sun.

My wave is the sky.

 

I wave from my window

for one more goodbye.

 

©Janet Clare Fagal.  Posted with permission.

 

Thanks to Janet for letting me share this poem today!  The new wee bairn in our family, Sawyer, is not quite waving yet.  BUT, this week, he started grabbing the dangling toys from his playmat as he lays beneath them!  (I require daily photos and/or videos from Morgan between visits.) And he's just twelve weeks old.  Of course, he already love rhymes and songs....

 

Many thanks also to Tanita for hosting the Poetry Friday Roundup this week over at {fiction, instead of lies}.  And unending thanks to Janet and Sylvia, who continue to share so much poetry light in the world.

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Poetry Friday - Sing Along to the "Cuckoo's Song" ....

This lovely cuckoo is not quite the right variety for England, but a lovely rendering from 1827.  
Color engraving by R. Havell, after drawing by John J. Audubon. (Library of Congress)

 

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!

 

Back again, after dipping in and out this summer, and after my couple-of-months hiatus in May and June around the birth of our first (amazing – wonderful – thriving) grandchild, Sawyer.

 

For Poetry Friday inspiration at the start of a new school year, I picked up one of my books that I likely  bought thinking I'd cannibalize for artsyletters projects, but that upon inspection went straight to my personal collection of treasured old books.  It's a gilded-edged 1906 copy of The Oxford Book of English Verse, 1250-1900, edited by A. T. Quiller-Couch.

 

Are you a fan of Medieval literature?  I enjoyed a class on the subject way back in college, with one of my favorite professors.  It's a long, fascinating time period.  (Of course, with a birth name of 'Robyn Hood,' I was pretty much assured of some medieval curiosity!) Such a mix of breathtaking poetry, legends, chivalry, illuminated manuscripts – and, fleas, persecution, pestilence, lice, and the like… nice to visit from a historical distance.

 

Anyway, our Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch opened his Oxford collection with the following 13th century verses.  While the piece heralds the arrival of summer, I'm taking some August liberties and sharing it now.  (Still feels very much like summer here!)

 

 

Cuckoo Song

 

c. 1250

 

Sumer is icumen in,

   Lhude sing cuccu!

Groweth sed, and bloweth med,

  And springth the wude nu –

      Sing cuccu!

 

Awe bleteth after lomb,

        Llouth after calve cu ;

Bulluc serteth, bucke verteth,

        Murie sing cucu!

 

Cuccu, cuccu, well singes thu, cuccu ;

Nu swike thu naver nu ;

 

Sing cuccu, nu, sing cuccu,

  Sing cuccu, sing cuccu, nu !

 

lhude=loud,    awe=ewe,    lhouth=loweth,     sterteth=leaps,    swike=cease

 

These old verses can be difficult to parse, I know. Sometimes just saying them out loud phonetically will open the doors of meaning.

 

"Cuckoo Song" is actually meant to be sung in a round.  In Tabatha fashion, let me share this link for you to enjoy it on a whole 'nuther level (scroll down)!  (And – I was happy to stumble upon this site, Luminarium.  Oh, I could meander along its hedgerows for days… maybe I'll see you there?) ;0) 

 

Speaking of Olde British Thinges, if you have an Ancestry account and haven't checked in lately, the DNA data just keeps getting more interesting!  (I am ALL British/Scottish/Welsh/Irish with some Dutch and un peu francais.)  I ended up checking in with the old family tree online again and marvelling that one of the first branches I ever followed back went (possibly) all the way to 12th Century Scotland.  Fun to think about the verses and songs floating in the misty air back then. I've not had that luck with any other lines, though several do go back centuries. 

 

Anyway, looks like some of our posts this week have Scottish connections; can't wait to dive in!  I've just barely had a chance to shout out to Jone since her return from Scotland and Ireland, but we plan to do some catching up soon.

 

Happy New School Year, Happy Old English Celebration of Songbirds!

 

Our marvelous Margaret has this week's Roundup over at Reflections on the Teche.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Margaret!:0)

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Poetry Friday - My Mother Welcomes my New Grandson with a Poem...

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers - I'VE MISSED YOU!  :0)

 

I know I've missed lots of poetry goodness and news about the comings and goings of our Poetry Friday-ers... some far-flung, like Jone recently in Ireland and Scotland and Heidi traipsing around Europe. And others having adventures on the home front, such as Sylvia retiring from her stellar teaching career to get into all kinds of new poetic mischief.

 

But I was distracted by the arrival of a precious new grandson, the first on both sides of the family.  He was due June 4 and arrived in the wee hours on June 5 (his great-grandfather's birthday - what a nice present for Jack!).  My hubby Jeff and I had gone to perch at our Travelers Rest (SC) home, only a couple of hours from our "couple," to wait for marching orders. 

 

Morgan and our son-in-law Matt checked into the hospital at 5 on a Friday evening, and Morgan labored from then until after 3 a.m. on Sunday.  We were there, mostly in the waiting room, and our son Seth came, too. Matt's family was in and out as well. Jeff & I both stayed a week before he had to return to work, and I had planned to stay on a few more days if needed.  Morgan got quite ill, and I ended up being there a whole month!  Lots of good snuggle time with our wee one, so despite very little sleep over those weeks, it was a treasured time for this new grandmother.  (Going my "Mimi," by the way - my middle name is Michelle and it got sidelined 38 years ago when I got married. I couldn't quite let my maiden name go, could I? ;0) )

 

Morgan is MUCH better now, and little Sawyer is thriving.  Since we're back on the coast, I request daily pictures of him via text! We are looking forward to all being together again in another week.  This time, my folks plan to join us from Florida - the aforementioned Jack, and my mother, Nita.

 

My mom, in her early 80s and with some vision challenges, hasn't exactly been on the forefront of texting.  BUT - as I was keeping her updated during Morgan's labor, she kept their cell phone handy and sent messages back. [Now she even includes emojis - Go, Mom!]  I try to keep her supplied in texted baby pictures as well. 

 

While in the hospital waiting room, I received a surprise text from her that was a poem.  She and "Poppy" often come up with poems, sometimes of the silly variety, on special occasions such as birthdays,   But this one was a sweet, heartfelt one.  Morgan and Matt have requested a handwritten version as a keepsake. 

 

Poetry is always the best way to mark milestone events in life, don't you think? And certainly the best way to welcome a new little human to the world. 

 

With my mother's and daughter's permission, I'll share it here to warm up your day.

 

 

Sawyer Matthew Whyte,
we are waiting to hear your cries,
to see your sweet little face
and look into your eyes.

 

We want to count your fingers
and ten wiggly toes,
to gently tug your ears
and touch your little nose.

 

We want to hold and cuddle you
and shower you with love,
and make sure you always know
you are our blessing from God above.

 

©Juanita C. Morgan, probably with help from Jack!

 

(An additional note... As our family rejoices, we are mindful that other families have empty arms, longing for or missing a beloved child. Morgan and Matt have had their hearts set on this blessing for years, making all of us that much more grateful.)

 

Elisabeth is hosting our Roundup today at Unexpected Intersections - Thanks, Elisabeth! 

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Poetry Friday - Joyeux Jour de la Terre! (Armchair April in Paris...)

 

Bonjour!  

 

One thing I love about being an Etsy seller is that sometimes I send my artsyletters offerings to the four corners of the world.  I've had customers in close to 20 countries. This week I received an order with a special request from France, and the message was sent via email rather than through Etsy, so there wasn't an option to translate on the spot.  However, I was delighted to realize that my four years of French in high school and one in college were sufficient for me to make out its meaning!  [I still used an online translator just to make sure, and sent my reply in English and via a copy from an online translator, though I did "check" that it looked right.]

 

And while items in my shop have a definite British Isles bent - I mean, my target market really is nerdy English-major types like myself - somewhow a few items for Francophiles continue to surface from my work table. Especially since I was able to procure some gorgeous letters and postcards and bank notes and such from centuries past, from a seller in France.  (I often buy supplies from other corners of the earth, too.) 

 

I am especially smitten with postcards and business receipts and such with layers of interesting text or handwriting in different hues of ink, all jumbled together - ahhhh.  And while I do reproduce some antique maps etc. for items I make that I need more than one of (tourist-friendly items at a local shop here in Beaufort, etc.), I do prefer to just capture the actual text or image under glass as a one-of-a-kind snippet of history, such as the items in the picture above.  I'll wrangle these into finished pieces and get some listed today, to join a few French items already listed.

 

I don't have an actual French poem to share today, but when I think about French writing, Le Petit Prince always come to mind.  (I do have a copy in French somewhere...!)  I have always adored this book, and even read it out loud to eighth graders - eighth graders! - back in the day when I briefly taught middle school English. 

 

My love affair is shared  by the world, evidently - did you know there was a The Little Prince theme park in France, near the German and Swiss borders?  (See https://www.thelittleprince.com.) There's also a foundation. And closer to home, evidently a Broadway play just opened? 

 

If you haven't read the story, it's just a treasure of creativity, love, loss, and hope.  In fact, I read that aside from religious texts, it's the most translated book in the world. It features a pilot, stranded in the Sahara desert, who encounters a little prince requesting a drawing of a sheep. Throughout the tale, the young prince describes his journey across planets, and amusing and touching encounters which evoke universal themes. 

 

The whole book seems poem-like to me, with its fairy tale qualities and compression into a deceptively simple form.  (Saint-Exupery did write poetry and other works.) Plus, the art is charming. So for a taste of the book's voice, I'll just share a few sentences from the beginning, as the narrator, before meeting the book's subject, explains how he left a career in art at the tender age of 6, after an unsuccessful (according to others) couple of drawings. 

 

The grown-ups then advised me to give up my drawings of boa constrictors, whether from the inside or the outside, and to devote myself instead to geography, history, arithmetic and grammar. Thus it was that I gave up a magnificent career as a painter at the age of six. I had been disappointed by the lack of success of my drawing No. 1 and my drawing No. 2. Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves and it is rather tedious for children to have to explain things to them time and again.

 

So I had to choose another job and I learnt to pilot aeroplanes.

 

[Saint-Exupéry, Antoine de. The Little Prince (pp. 10-11). GENERAL PRESS. Kindle Edition.]

 

The book was written while Saint-Exupery was in the United States.  It was published in 1943, only a year before the author's plane disappeared on a mission in World War II.

 

Earth Day wasn't around in the 1940s, but I have a feeling The Little Prince would agree with its aims of nurturing this planet. And speaking of this planet, and of France, the world will be keeping an eye on the presidential election there this weekend I'm sure, with ramifications not just for France but for the war in Ukraine and political relations beyond. 

 

Merci for joining me in this very rambling post today - be sure to pilot on over to see Margaret at Reflections on the Teche for this week's Roundup, and to catch up with the Kidlit Progressive Poem! Thanks for all the hosting, Margaret. 

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Poetry Friday - Hooray - It's National Poetry Month!

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  Happy NATIONAL POETRY MONTH 2022!  (Click here for the poets.org link.)

 

So much goodness is planned for our Kidlit corner of the online universe; be sure to check out Jama's Roundup at Jama's Alphabet Soup.  And be sure to follow along with this year's Kidlit Progressive Poem, kindly hosted again by Margaret at Reflections on the Teche

 

As for my own little corner of the corner, I plan to get a little jump on celebrating 10 (!) years of artsyletters later this year with some 'perfect-for-poets' gift ideas each Friday. I'll share poetry each week, too, of course!

 

When I ponder poetry, I often let my mind wander to the privilege I had of meeting Nancy Willard decades ago at a writer's conference.  (You might recall her A VISIT TO WILLIAM BLAKE'S INN won the Newbery Award in 1982, and the Provensens received a Caldecott Honor for it.)  One of my favorite books about writing is her TELLING TIME - Angels, Ancestors, and Stories. I've mentioned it before, I know.  (Willard was born in 1936 and died in 2017; you can read more about her here.)

 

I especially love her first chapter, "How Poetry Came Into the World and Why God Doesn't Write It."  This essay includes some banter between Adam and Eve, and both find that poetry helps them to communicate.  Here are a couple of treasures Willard includes from The Rattle Bag, by anonymous authors:

 

 

I will give my love an apple without any core,

I will give my love a house without any door,

I will give my love a palace wherein he may be

and he may unlock it without any key.

 

 

and

 

 

It is late last night the dog was speaking of you;

the snipe was speaking of you in her deep marsh.

It is you are the lonely bird through the woods;

and that you may be without a mate until you find me.

 

 

If all this talk of love has your heart a-flutter, take it over to my juicy little universe, where Heidi has much more to love in the Roundup this week.  Thanks for hosting, Heidi!  And here's to a Happy Poetry Month to all.  I look forward to starting off mine with an online Haiku Society of America Southeast Region workshop on Saturday. :0)

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Poetry Friday - Meet-Up with Jone and a Scottish Nursery Rhyme

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!

 

I had a special treat last Sunday, when I headed "north" to Charleston to meet up with the multi-talented and all-around wonderful  Jone Rush MacCulloch, who was visiting this side of the world from Oregon.  She and her hubby Chuck & I enjoyed some tasty food at a new Charleston gem, The Honey Hive.  We solved all the world's problems and enjoyed catching up.

 

My good day continued right on, as my daughter Morgan and her college girlfriends had met up in Charleston for a girls' weekend, and I got to see them briefly later!  Morgan is expecting, and did you know there's a three-floor baby store downtown there?  I didn't either.  Very dangerous.  

 

But back to Jone, and weaving these two things together slightly.... Jone and I share a love of Scotland (Ireland, too!), and ancestral connections for our families.   I blogged about our family trip there in the summer of 2018.  Jone had planned to go in 2020, but - alas, the pandemic squelched that.  She is planning a fantabulous-sounding trip there this summer, and I'll be vicariously sneaking back....

 

Anyway, since Jone and Chuck and I didn't really solve the world's problems, and they've gotten horrifically worse since the weekend, I thought I'd offer something light as a tiny respite today.  I have a book of Scottish Nursery Rhymes from the early 1930s.  Really, they are songs, with music for piano.  But they can work as poems, too.  (FIFTY TRADITIONAL SCOTTISH NURSERY RHYMES, Collected, edited and arranged for Voice & Paino by Alfred Moffat, Augener Ltd., London.)

 

Here's one in honor of Jone and her upcoming trip, and in honor of wee ones. 

 

(Note - a "kirtel" is a skirt, and a "kirk" is a church.)

 

 

WHEN I WAS A WEE THING

 

Air:  Lennox love to Blantyre.

 

 

When I was a wee thing

Just eight or nine years auld,

I hadn't any petticoat

To keep me frae the cauld.

 

So I went into Edinbro'

That bonnie burrows toun,

And there I bought a petticoat,

A kirtel, and a goun.

 

And as I hameward wended 

I thought I'd build a kirk,

And a' the birdies o' the air

They helpit me to work.

 

The herring was the high priest,

The salmon was the clerk, 

The bullfinch played the organ

All in my bonnie kirk!

 

 

Speaking of birds and last week's post, I was only able to count birds for the Great Backyard Bird Count on Saturday and Sunday, but it's always such a great thing to do.  For the first time I tried the "ID by Sound" feature of the Merlin bird app, and - Oh my goodness -  I'm hooked! I plan to use it to further develop my birding-by-ear skills. 

 

Our wonderful Tricia has this week's Roundup at The Miss Rumphius Effect.  Thanks for hosting, Tricia!

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Poetry Friday - Blue Horizons in Postcards from Margaret And Linda B.

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  A couple more postcards from our New Year's Poem Postcard Swap, coordinated by the wonderful Jone Rush MacCulloch.

 

Speaking of Jone, please see her poignant haiku featured on The Haiku Foundation's "Haiku of the Day" page for Jan. 13 here - Congratulations, Jone! 

 

This week's additions to the refrigerator door have complementary visuals - I  love that!  Margaret Simon sent a photo postcard with a collage on the front in beautiful blue celestial and warm earth hues.  Having recently seen the traveling interactive Van Gogh exhibit, I enjoyed the bits of Starry Night in this piece!  These envelope a wonderful quote from Emily Dickinson.  The image includes some mountain-y layers in the background under the sun, and a yoga enthusiast under myriads of stars, among other delights.  

 

Her original poem reads:

 

    A new year

     new ideas

  growing buds

 to find a garden

already blooming

 

I love that surprise at the end; the kind of "relief" to feel that we don't always have to start everything from scratch.  I/we might need to take a look around and appreciate what's there. 

 

Linda Baie sent a gorgeous expansive photograph from Colorado - look at those majestic Rockies!  Her greeting reads:

 

     Happy New Year!

Blue Skies Smiling at YOU!

 

I'll take those smiling blue skies, thank you!

 

On the back of her card is a poetic quote from Chandra Kochhar, sentiments that seem to me in keeping with Margaret's inspiring words, too.

 

Here's to smiles and blooms and noticing - wishing you inspirations as you make your way through these winter days. 

 

(And, no - I still haven't sent my poem swap postcards out yet, but working on it.... ;0) )

 

Many thanks to our beloved and multitalented Tabatha for hosting the Roundup this week at The Opposite of Indifference - Enjoy the treasures!

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Poetry Friday - Into the LIGHT with Poetry Postcards from Linda M & Mary Lee...

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  I hope you're having a good start to the New Year.  

 

I was too smothered in holiday Etsy orders to participate in the Winter Poem Swap this year, but I usually can't resist the call of Jone Rush MacCulloch to join in the New Year poem postcard swap. (It's a lovely way to start the year, and there's usually an optional nod to the Lunar New Year, meaning I have a few extra weeks to get my act together....)

 

What a delight to already receive two postcards from poets way more on the ball than I.  And they both celebrate one of my favorite things:  LIGHT.  (How much am I drawn to light?  I'm probably part moth....)

 

Linda Mitchell has been busy with her art supplies again, including vibrant stampings/printings on her card, and a gorgeous collaged star ornament.  On the front of the postcard, she included a mesmerizing poem by Sara Teasdale from 1926:

 

 

Dark of the Moon

 

There will be stars over the place forever;

Though the house we loved and the street

we loved are lost,

Every time the earth circles her orbit

On the night the autumn equinox is crossed,

Two stars we knew, poised on the peak of mid-night

Will reach their zenith; stillness will be deep;

There will be stars over the place forever,

There will be stars forever, while we sleep.

 

 

And on the back, an original poetic message:

 

Between joy and sorrow,

all I need to do is look up

to know the stars are above you too.

Remember to look up.

Happy New Year!

2022

 

And on the handcrafted star, a found/haiku poem also taking its inspiration from Teasdale's (direct quotes, in fact):

 

stillness will be deep

stars forever while we sleep

circles on the night

 

©Linda Mitchell

 

While Linda's gift has me gazing at the mystical and magical night sky, Mary Lee Hahn's beautiful card has me warming myself in the glow of close-by candlelight. (I love the immediacy of the flames and the texture of the bricks in the background of her original photograph on the card's front.)

 

Mary Lee's poem also takes a haiku turn:

 

each flame provides light

we illuminate this world

us all - together

 

©Mary Lee Hahn

 

Oh, how I hope 2022 can bring the world some much-needed togetherness and warmth for its human inhabitants, guided by starlight and all kinds of light.

 

For more poetic illumination, head over to Beyond Literacy Week, where Carol has 2022's first Roundup!  Thank you, Carol. 

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Poetry Friday - Rainer Maria Rilke Quote for the New Year

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  I hope you are enjoying your holidays.  We are still in and out visiting family and grateful for time together.  Just a quote from a poet today - the beloved Rainer Maria Rilke. I discovered the words and their source on this curious quote-gatherer's website here.

 

Here's the whole sentence, written by Rainer Maria Rilke to his wife Clare in a 1907 letter:

 

          And now let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been, full of work that has never been done, full of tasks, claims, and demands; and let us see that we learn to take it without letting fall too much of what it has to bestow upon those who demand of it necessary, serious, and great things.

 

If you like the clicky-tap-tappy sound of a typewriter, feel free to check out the video I put on Instagram (artsylettersgifts) - and click the little volume symbol to unmute it -  or Facebook (artsyletters) with a portion of the above quote.  Just my wish for us all for 2022. (Note - for the first video version I posted, I used my laptop's video editor and added background music from their list of options. It was a Ravel string quartet.  I got an email saying it was removed because of a copyright violation - I didn't know those built-in tracks could violate copyright!  Wouldn't ever do that intentionally.  So, version 2 here is just the keys tapping - and an occasional bong from the windchimes!) 

 

Enjoy this week's Poetry Friday Roundup at Carol's Corner - Thanks for hosting, Carol!

Here's to good health and joy (& lots of poems!) to you and yours in the New Year.

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Poetry Friday - Farewell to a Fine Dog

 

Greetings, Poetry Lovers!  A sad week for our family, as daughter Morgan and son-in-law Matt had to say goodbye to a very special four-legged family member.  I traveled over to visit as he was coming back from a university veterinary hospital after being in and out of the regular vet's office in recent weeks. He had cancer, but with some rare complications.  It was heartbreaking to have to say goodbye to a fine dog at age 7.

 

"That face!" is what my mother, and others, always said about Cooper. Those soulful hound-dog eyes would get you every time. He was a beautiful, quirky boxer mix:  a rambunctious puppy, a dignified dog, a tireless tennis ball chaser, a relentless castle defender, a picky eater, a boat captain, a snuggly cuddler when it was his idea, and a devoted member of the family. He will be terribly missed by fellow canine family member Maggie, and of course by all of us humans.

 

On Wenesday evening we toasted this fine fellow via text, from four different geographical locations. Here's to you, Cooper!  

 

And here's a fun poem I found in Cooper's honor.  I didn't know it, but evidently it's a regular in schools in Scotland.  The Scots words might seem intimidating at first, but you can catch the drift if you read it through once or twice in a rhythm.  The audio at the bottom of the linked page is the way to go - with an adult and child reciting the poem, it's very entertaining. I hope it brings you a smile.

 

from "A Dug, a Dug" 

by Bill Keys

 

Hey, daddy, wid yi get us a dug?
A big broon alsatian? Ur a wee white pug,
Ur a skinny wee terrier ur a big fat bull.
Aw, daddy. Get us a dug. Wull ye?      

   

N whose dug'll it be when it durties the flerr?
and pees'n the carpet, and messes the sterr?
It's me ur yur mammy'll be taen fur a mug.
Away oot an play. Yur no needin a dug. 

...

 

Well, now you HAVE to click the link to find our what happens, right?

 

Find the rest here, and enjoy that audio link at the bottom. It's only a minute and a half long. 

 

And join the talented Elisabeth at Unexpected Intersections for this week's Roundup.  Thanks for hosting, Elisabeth!

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