This is my playground for poetry written for children with ideas and inspiration for writing your own poems. Come on in. Sit for a spell, have a cup of words to swirl around and make your own cup of poetry. I'm so glad you are here. I hope you'll find the Kingdom of Poetry a fun place to be.

Monday, September 2, 2013

I'm sitting in the garden
for hours and hours
watching the blooming
of the flowers.

Some have 3 petals
some have four,
five or seven
and even more.

Some have leaves
with a central spine.
Some do not
and that is fine.

Some need sunshine.
Some need showers.
I'm sitting, watching
for hours and hours.

      When was the last time  you looked closely at a flower?  When was the last time you looked closely at the flowers' leaves?  My mother learned how to paint china dishes when she retired from teaching school.  One of the first things she gave to me from her painting was a jam jar and butter dish with strawberries she had painted. The strawberries were big and red with tiny yellow seeds on the sides.  The stems and tops were perfect, but there was something that wasn't quite right about it, and it took me a long time to figure out.  Mom had painted raspberry leaves on the strawberry vine.  I still treasure my hand-painted strawberry set, but it has gotten me to closely examine leaves.  As we approach fall this month and the leaves start to change colors, you might enjoy collecting your own leaves to examine and write poems about.  Happy Labor Day, have fun kicking back and gathering data for writing your own poems.


  1. I love the cyclical nature of your poem, Joy. Great job, as always! = )

    1. I'm glad those flowers gave you a smile. Thank you for your comment.

  2. Dear Joy,
    Happy September.
    Helps me remember.
    Truth comes in all seasons.
    For many reasons.
    Love filters through all kinds of weather.
    As long as friends stay together.

    Enjoy your day.

    1. Well done, Joan. Thank you for sharing your poem. It made me smile. You are a GREAT friend.

  3. Joy,
    My grandmother lived with us for about seven months. I recall that she used to stare at a distant vine in the woods that she could see from the kitchen window. She liked to watch it change colors. Her actions were a good reminder to me "to stop and smell the flowers." Your poetry does that too! Thank you!