Isabel Iguana

Isabel Iguana skipped 

to the fair in the city.

She tickled herself pink

so she would be pretty.

This is how she 

won first prize

and admiration

from iguana guys.

     How many "i"s are in this poem?  How many words can you think of that start with the letter "i"?  Ice cream, intelligent, igloo, icky?  Can you write your own poem with lots of "i"s?  It must be fun.

Halfway to the Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

Henry Haddock met

Hannah Halibut

halfway to the bottom

of the deep blue sea.

Said Henry to Hannah,

"You've stolen my heart.

Will you marry me,

halfway to the bottom

of the deep blue sea?"

Said Hannah to Henry,

"You are a handsome fish,

my husband you will be

halfway to the bottom

of the deep blue sea."
 

So they hired a humpback whale

to do their ceremony

halfway to the bottom

of the deep blue sea.
 

There they lived happily

and had hundreds of little fishies

halfway to the bottom

of the deep blue sea.
    

How many "h's" can you find in this poem?  Can you make your own list of "h" words?  How can you put those words together to write your own poem?  This would be a good poem to stress the sense of hearing.  Have fun.
    I owe inspiration for this poem to Pat and Don Murphy.  We had dinner with them last night at a sea food restaurant and I mentioned I was working on an "H" poem. They suggested the "h" fish.  

    When I told my sister about the haddock and halibut, she suggested I add a humpback whale.  So of course, the whale had to do the ceremony. 

     Today on our walk I recited this poem to my husband and he pointed out that haddock and halibut are bottom dwellers.  But I told him they would never get married anyway and if a frog could marry the mouse, I could have a halibut marry a haddock and have baby fishies, halfway to the bottom of the deep blue sea. 

     Actually that is the phrase I like best about this poem.  This can be done as a poem in two voices with the audience (or children) repeating the phrase, halfway to the bottom of the deep blue sea.  Enjoy.

Missing You

I smell the fresh air

and flowers sweet--

primroses and snap dragons

line the street.

The colors are fresh

and super lovely.

They smell so sweet

and other worldly.

Sunshine and flowers

it doesn't get better than this.
You are the only

person I miss.

I wish you could walk

along the beach with me,

or we could sit

neath the tall pine trees.

     Happy Sunday.  Today is a great day for a walk outside.  Use all your senses and what do you see, feel, hear, smell and taste?  Can you use all of this information for a poem? 

The Night Sky

The sky is a black bowl,

turned over to spill

icy crystals

sparkling bright

to fall 

across my eyes.

I see a bear,

a horse, a lion,

a warrior,

even a dipper

racing across the sky.

     It's Saturday.  How are you spending your weekend?  Can you write a poem about one thing you are doing this weekend? 

A Golfing Giraffe

Gerald Giraffe

plays golf

on the green.

It's the strangest

sight

I've ever seen.

His legs are spread

in a golfer's stance.

And he wears

plaid golfer pants.

Perhaps he'll make

a hole-in-one.

Gerald Giraffe thinks

playing golf is fun.

     Happy Friday.  There are a lot of "G"s in this poem.  Is there a "g" in your name?  The name of your town?  Street?  Can you write your own "G" poem?  I hope you have giggling fun writing.

A Fox and the Opera

"Let's go to the opera,"

said funny Frannie Fox.

"Please buy us tickets

for a ground floor box."

"There I will feel safer

than in the balcony.

A ground floor box,

is sufficient for me."

"You can wear a tuxedo,

and I a frilly gown,

when we hear the opera

for our night on the town."

     What do you think a fox in a box at the opera would look like?  What would be the opera Fannie listens to?  Can you write your own poem about the opera, or animals going to the opera?  I'm actually having fun thinking about this.  I may add some more verses later, or perhaps I can turn this poem into a picture book manuscript.  Have a good time with you poem.

A Poem

A poem 

makes my toes

tap,tap,tap.

It makes my legs

want to 

kick,kick,kick.

My knees want to bend

and my bum

wants to

shimmy, shimmy, shake.

My body wants to sway.

My blood pulses.

My fingers

snap, snap, snap.

Poetry makes me

want to throw 

back my shoulders,

throw up my arms

into the air,

and shout 

Wahoo, Wahoo!

Even in sad times

poetry makes me feel

          J

          O

           Y.

   I'm taking a break from the bestiary today because I didn't like yesterday's poem.  And because I was thinking about this poem on my walk and I wanted to share it with you.  My walk this morning was a fun one.  When I started there was a cloud in the sky that looked like a twister with two holes for eyes.  Then those eyes morphed into eye brows and then a mustache and goatee.  Finally the whole thing morphed into a shape like a wolf with a very hungry look because his tongue was lolling out of his mouth.  Do you like watching clouds and making up pictures for them?  So the challenge for today is to watch clouds and write a poem about it.  Or if you'd rather just write a poem like mine about how poetry makes you feel.  Have fun.