Picture books for poetry month, plus GRAND Social No. 202 link party for grandparents

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Picture books for poetry month

April is National Poetry Month, and I had the pleasure of previewing some super picture books of poetry of various sorts from Candlewick Press.

Take a peek at the sweet, silly, and shark-filled fun you can share with your favorite poetry-lovers-to-be in my post titled April is National Poetry Month: Favorites new and newfangled for girls and boys.

One of my favorites (which you literature lovers will appreciate) is Shrunken Treasures: Literary Classics, Short, Sweet, and Silly by Scott Nash. Such fun, even grownups will chuckle, grin... and groan (appreciatively, of course).

shrunken treasures by scott nash 

Cheers to...

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Poems past, present and in celebration of National Poetry Month

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I had the privilege as a seventh-grader to have an English teacher who encouraged his students to seek out poetry that moved them. One assignment from him was to write down a handful of favorites along with the reasons that we liked those particular poems.

teen binder 

As this teacher understood that song lyrics were poetry that resonated with teens, my selections included several song lyrics — and far too revealing explanations on why...

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The Saturday Post

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April is National Poetry Month and I've been remiss in mentioning that, posting anything about it. So even though there's less than a week left in National Poetry Month, I want to give you this: an empowering poem for every woman, but one that I think will especially resonate with the older women, the grandmothers, the ones most likely to be considering where their journey has, is and will continue to take them. Let me know what you think.

The Journey by Mary Oliver

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do--

determined to save

the only life you could save.

Today's question:

What is your favorite poem or line from a poem?