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Ways of Composing typewriter: a mouthful of teeth chattering afraid to be quiet a pencil can lie down and dream dark silver silences Eve Merriam Included in the book:  Poem in Your Pocket for Young Poets: 100 Poems to Rip Out and Read painting by Christopher Stott

This Is Just to Say I have eaten the plums that were in the ice box and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold -William Carlos Williams Of course, there is the wonderful collection of non-apology apology poems by Gail Carson Levine with fantastic illustrations

You travel a path on paper You travel a path on paper and discover you are in a city you only thought about before. It's a Sunday marketplace. Parakeets and finches are placed on the stones and poppies in transparent wrapping. How can you be where you never were? And how did you find the way-with your mind your only measure? Fanny Howe Included in the book:  Poem in Your Pocket for

The Snow is Melting               The snow is melting            and the village is flooded  with children. Painting by William James Glackens Washington Square, 1910

Daffodils I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside a lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the Milky Way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay; Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

A Rose by Any Other Name In Spain it's called a pedo In Hungary you'd pass a fing In Dutch you'd say en wind laten When your bottom sings In Japan it's called he onara In Germany you'd pass der pup In Italian you'd say peto When that small sound erupts In Russia it's called perdun In Hindu you'd pass a pud In Polish you'd say pierdzenic For both loud or quiet duds No

National Hippo Day, February 15th Why I'm Late for School This hippopotamus thinks I'm a stool. I wish he'd let me up to go to school. If he squatted on my finger or one hand, One knee or elbow, I could understand. But head to toe? That makes it awful hard To have a conversation with the lard! Though not as hard as telling Mr. Bruce My teacher, the old hippo-on-the-loose-

From  Forgive Me, I Meant to Do It:  False Apology Poems, written by Gail Carson Levine and illustrated by Matthew Cordell

from:  Forgive Me, I Meant to Do It:  False Apology Poems, by Gail Carson Levine with illustrations by Matthew Cordell

THINK LIKE A TREE Soak up the sun Affirm life's magic Be graceful in the wind Stand tall after a storm Feel refreshed after it rains Grow strong without notice Be prepared for each season Provide shelter to strangers Hang tough through a cold spell Emerge renewed at the first signs of spring Stay deeply rooted while reaching for the sky Be still long enough to hear your own

Earth Day I am the Earth And the Earth is me, Each blade of grass, Each honey tree, Each bit of mud, And stick and stone Is blood and muscle, Skin and bone. And just as I Need every bit Of me to make My body fit, So Earth needs Grass and stone and tree And things that grow here Naturally. That's why we Celebrate this day. That's why across The world we say: As long

A Jelly Fish Visible, invisible, a fluctuating charm an amber-tinctured amethyst inhabits it, your arm approaches and it opens and it closes; you had meant to catch it and it quivers; you abandon your intent. - Marianne Moore (suggested by Liane)

POEM IN YOUR POCKET DAY  is TODAY!  (print, clip,pocket and share!) Keep A Poem in Your Pocket  by Beatrice Schenk de Regniers Keep a poem in your pocket And a picture in your head And you'll never feel lonely At night when you're in bed. The little poem will sing to you  A dozen dreams to dance to you At night when you're in bed. So-- Keep a picture in your pocket And a

POEM IN YOUR POCKET DAY is APRIL 18, 2013! Visit poets.org for printable, pocket sized poems and other fantastic poetry related items. I fell in love with Poem in you Pocket: 200 Poems to Read and Carry, published in conjunction with The Academy of American Poets and selected by Elaine Bleakney, last April. Maybe this year I will be able to bring myself to tear-and-share the poems in

dog Under a maple tree The dog lies down, Lolls his limp Tongue, yawns, Rests his long chin Carefully between Front paws; Looks up, alert; Chops, with heavy Jaws, at a slow fly, Blinks, rolls On his side, Sighs, closes His eyes: sleeps All afternoon In his loose skin. This poem is one of the seven poems central to Sharon Creech's Love That Dog, a novel written in verse. "dog" can be found

First Fig My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends- It gives a lovely light! -Edna St Vincent Millay (photo by gfpeck)

From: The New Kid on the Block  by Jack Prelutsky, illustrated by James Stevenson

June 14th, National Skunk Day If the skunk did not exist, Then the skunk would not be mist. From:  World Rat Day: Poems About Real Holidays  You've Never Heard Of  by J Patrick Lews, illustrated by Anna Raff

What if the letter Q should be destroyed? Millions of U's would be unemployed. For Q and U belong like tick and tock, Except, of course, in places like Iraq. -Richard Wilbur -illustration by David Diaz From the book Disappearing Alphabet

The Red Wheelbarrow so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the white chickens -William Carlos Williams This image was part of the Free Verse competition held by the Academy of American Poets last year. Here are the details Free Verse: A Photo Competition Inspired by the 2009 National

November 19th, National Sloth Day Three-Toed Sloth He bats around a luna moth, He counts up all his toes, He wears the smiles of the sloth That everybody knows. He races to the tallest limb- .16 miles per hour (The fastest ever time for him), And looks down from his tower In the rain forests above Brazil To watch the world below. If he could speak, the sloth would shout From all

maggie and molly and milly and may maggie and molly and milly and may went down to the beach(to play one day) and maggie discovered a shell that sang so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and milly befriended a stranded star whose rays five languid fingers were; and molly was chased by a horrible thing which raced sideways while

The Clouds Some clouds fill with sunshine Some are dark with sorrow. Some are left from yesterday And some are for tomorrow. The clouds go proudly sailing by. I love their proper names. Stratus, Nimbus, Cirrus, Cumulus and James. -Rosemary Wells

Whenever Whenever I want my room to move I give myself a twirl And busily, dizzily whiz about In a reeling, wheeling whirl. Then I spin in a circle as fast as I can Till my head is weak from churning Like a tipsy top... And then I stop. But my room goes right on turning. -Mary Ann Hoberman

National Hippo Day, February 15th Why I'm Late for School This hippopotamus thinks I'm a stool. I wish he'd let me up to go to school. If he squatted on my finger or one hand, One knee or elbow, I could understand. But head to toe? That makes it awful hard To have a conversation with the lard! Though not as hard as telling Mr. Bruce My teacher, the old hippo-on-the-loose-