Here's another poem from my unpublished poetry collection
Excerpts from the Fairy Tale Files. This poem is written in the form of a classified ad.
**********
APARTMENT FOR RENT
One room, up-tower, furnished, neat.
The low, low rent cannot be beat.
Has awesome view of Castle Bay.
Installed a ladder yesterday
That’s strung with rungs of golden hair—
No other like it anywhere.
Have not seen my last tenant since
She fled and wed a handsome prince.
**********
This is not exactly a love poem for sharing on Valentine's Day! It's another of the poems I wrote for my unpublished collection titled Excerpts from the Fairy Tale Files.
A CHARMING PRINCE HAS SECOND THOUGHTS
Listen…Sleeping Beauty snoring
Sounds just like a lion roaring!
If I kiss her cheek, she’ll rise
And look into my deep blue eyes.
She’ll fall in love with me no doubt.
I’m the only prince hereabout.
Should I kiss Beauty? Should I not?
In this dilemma I am caught.
If I wake her now she’s mine—
This roaring, snoring valentine!
I know they say that love is blind,
But it’s not deaf. I’m disinclined
To rouse this maid. I’ll let her snore
And dream of me forevermore.
At
Wild Rose Reader, I have a new fairy tale poem that I wrote yesterday titled
Farewell, My Lovely.
Rasco from RIF has the
Poetry Friday Roundup this week.
Yesterday, I decided to write a new fairy tale love poem in honor of Valentine's Day, which is almost here. I feel I still need to do a bit of tinkering with Farewell, My Lovely to get the rhythm just right. Here's my first draft:
Farewell, My Lovely
She's beautiful! Forsooth, she's dead.
Look at her lips--so ruby red.
Her skin’s as white as fallen snow.
Her ebony hair’s like silk. Oh no!
I’ve fallen in love with a corpse—alas!
She looks so alive in her coffin of glass.
What will I do? I can’t tell the queen!
I know she’d make a royal scene
And conk me with her orb of gold…
And make me sleep out in the cold.
The king would have a raging fit.
He'd tell me I’m a foolish twit,
Take my inheritance away!
Tabloids would write an exposé.
I’m so forlorn. Oh, woe is me.
I shan’t live forever happily.
Today I found the love of my life—
But she will never be my wife.
I want to be the royal heir!
I must find a living lady fair
To marry me and be my bride.
I can't wed a gal who's already died.
I plan to rule this kingdom...so
Farewell, Snow White. Heigh-ho, heigh-ho.
At Blue Rose Girls, I have another fairy tale poem titled A Charming Prince Has Second Thoughts.
Rasco from RIF has the Poetry Friday Roundup this week.
I have another poem from my unpublished collection
Excerpts from the Fairy Tale Files. I really enjoyed taking on the persona of fairy tale characters and speaking in their voices in many of the poems in the collection—as I did in
For Sale and
Not All Princes Are Cut from the Same Cloth.
The poem I have for you today was composed in the form of a letter written by an angry Mama Bear to Goldilocks.
Dear Goldilocks,
You little brat. You little scamp!
You sneaked into our summer camp
And ate my little baby’s bowl
Of porridge, broke his chair, then stole
Upstairs and napped on Baby’s bed.
You ripped the new embroidered spread
His Grammy gave him yesterday.
This time you may have slipped away.
But if you ever come back here,
I’ll grab you, Goldie, by the ear—
And cut off all you curly hair!
You are not welcome!!!!!
Yours,
Ma Bear
Here are three of my favorite picture book versions of the tale of Goldilocks and the Three Bears:
Goldilocks and the Three Bears
Retold & illustrated by James Marshall
**********
Goldilocks and the Three Bears
Retold by Jim Aylesworth & illustrated by Barbara McClintock
**********
The Three Bears<
Here’s another poem about Jack and the Beanstalk from my unpublished collection Excerpts from the Fairy tale Files. I posted a different poem about Jack last month. You can read it here.
JACK ATTACK
Jack traded Milky White for beans.
His mother went ballistic.
She scolded him, “You numbskull,
Magic beans? Be realistic!
There’s no such thing as magic beans…
Or broccoli or peas!
Now all we have to eat tonight
Is this last ounce of cheese.
And don’t start spreading stories
Of a giant ten feet high
Who lives in some grand castle
In a kingdom in the sky.
Jack, go to bed without your meal…
And stop all this pretending.
You’d better pray this fairy tale
Will have a happy ending.”
***************
At
Blue Rose Girls, I have
Winter Wonderland: Original Snow Poems & PicturesLaura Salas has the
Poetry Friday Roundup at
Writing the World for Kids.
I dug into my unpublished collection of fairy tale poems this morning to find something to post for Poetry Friday. I’ve had problems with the beginning of the third stanza of the following poem about Jack and the Beanstalk for years. I keep changing the first two lines of that stanza. I even rewrote them this morning. I'll probably rewrite them again some day.
Q: Do you know who robbed the sleeping giant?
A: Jack, a boy who’s self-reliant.
He climbed the beanstalk near his shack
And stole some gold coins in a sack.
He raced back home and spent the money
On chocolate cookies, milk, and honey.
In ten days he returned again.
This time he poached the giant’s hen…
A hen that laid bright eggs of gold
(All over-easy, I’ve been told).
Then in a month—and in a daze—
Jack climbed the stalk and cast his gaze
Upon the castle in the sky.
Nobody knows the reason why
The newly wealthy farm boy Jack
Became a kleptomaniac.
He stole the magic harp for fun.
He really had no need of one.
And lo, the giant never caught
The little thief! An afterthought:
A good boy tempted may not heed
The Golden Rule. Ah! Such is greed.
**********
The Cybils 2010
Nominations remain open until October 15th at 11:59 p.m. Eastern time2010 Poetry NominationsCybils Nomination FormOne of the children’s poetry books nominated for a 2010 Cybils Award is Marilyn Singer’s
Mirror Mirror: A Book of Reversible Verse. I think it is an ingenious and clever collection of fairy tale poems. I LOVE fairy tale poems.
Today, I thought I’d post of three of my own fairy tale poems—which I wrote many years ago. All of the poems are about Snow White’s evil stepmother and mention the magic mirror.
FOR SALE
My magic mirror is for sale.
It’s such an awful tattletale!
It told me things about my foe
I’d really rather never know.
I MUST be fairest in the land…
Not second best! You understand?
I want to be the most divine.
My reputation’s on the line!
The seven dwarfs? Those little cretins!
They should be in the dungeon, beaten.
They foiled my plans to kill the lass.
I’ve got to sell my looking glass
And spend the cash on wrinkle cream,
A nose job, and a health regime,
Two weekends at a beauty spa.
Then I’ll look like a movie star.
I’ll be the fairest in the land!
And Snow White?
She can go pound sand!
THE EVIL QUEEN SPEAKS TO HER MAGIC MIRRORMirror, mirror on the wall,
You say Snow White is best of all.
She may be lovely, I’ll agree—
But she’s a moron. Can’t you see?
Thrice I fooled her she’s so trusting.
I think her brain needs readjusting.
I’ve never seen her reading books.
She only cares about her looks.
I’m not as pretty as the kid…
But she’s no smarter than a squid.
Why, I’ve earned ten advanced degrees
From seven universities!
I’ll change the question. Now I’ll be
The best in this vicinity:
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Who’s the SMARTEST one of all?
Q: Who’s the nemesis of Snow White?
A: The wicked queen, with great delight,
Concocted schemes to kill the child…
But failed. The queen was driven wild
Each time her mirror told her that
Snow White survived. “That little brat
Is like a cat that has nine lives!
I’m second best while she survives.
Each trick I’ve tried has been for nought.
Now with frustration I am fraught.
Snow White the fairest? Poppycock!
Her snow white face could stop a clock.”
Sorry that I'm posting so late today. At this time, my list of "things to do" has gotten very long.
Here's another poem from my unpublished poetry collection entitled
Excerpts from the Fairy Tale Files. In the poem, an exasperated princess speaks to the "still a frog" prince while they're eating dinner.
The Princess Speaks to the Frog Prince in Condescending Languageby Elaine Magliaro
Amphibian, you’re slimy, green…
The most repulsive thing I’ve seen. Oh, woe is me! Is this my fate—
To have you hop around my plate…
The golden plate I got from Papa?
You’re leaving footprints in my supper!
And while the minstrel sings a ballad,
You flop your webbed feet through my salad.
I know you fetched my golden ball,
But you should follow protocol
And dine out in the kitchen where
The servants do. You’ll fit in there.
You’re sooooo disgusting, little frog.
I think I’ll feed YOU to my dog.
November was a very busy month for me. December has kept me on my toes so far too! Sorry I haven't been posting much lately. I dug into my computer files for a poem to post today. I selected a fairy tale poem for you--a poem in which the giant's golden harp cries out to her master as Jack--of Beanstalk fame--runs off with it.
THE GIANT’S MAGIC HARP SINGS
“Save me,” sings the magic harp.
“Hear my solo in F sharp:
Save me, save me. Scooby-do,
Master, I belong with you.
“I like living in the sky,
Somewhere over the rainbow, high
Above my country ‘tis of thee.
Fee fo fo fum! Rescue me.
“Oh, great giant, take me back.
I don’t want to live with Jack.
Save me, master, don’t refuse—
Or I’ll only sing the blues.”
********************
At Blue Rose Girls
, I have a poem by June Harvey titled I Cannot Speak of War.
I’m doing the Poetry Friday Roundup at Wild Rose Reader today.
I know I haven’t been posting much at Wild Rose Reader lately. I apologize. It’s been an extremely busy summer. I had hoped to write reviews of two poetry books for today--but I never got around to doing that. I spent most of this week shopping, preparing food, and packing for our third trip to Maine this summer. Instead of the reviews, I’m posting another poem from my unpublished collection titles Excerpts from the Fairy Tale Files. The following poem is a conversation between the Third Billy Goat Gruff and the Troll that lived under the bridge.
BRIDGE BANTER
I’m Billy Goat Gruff, the third. I’m tough.
I’m muscle-bound and mean.
And I’m the boss so let me cross
To reach the pasture green.
Well, I’m the troll. I’m brave and bold
I’m really getting sick
Of bearded deer trip-trapping here
Around my bailiwick.
You will not pass to reach green grass.
I’ll kill you, Gruff. Now scoot!
I’ll stand my ground—so turn around
And find another route.
You ugly troll, I’ll reach my goal—
It’s written in the story.
Now eat your pride and step aside
And things won’t get too gory.
********************
At Political Verses, I reposted a poem about Glenn Beck titled Dead Beckoning. The post includes a video of Beck on FOX TV and a link to Glenn-Harried Glenn-Lost, a recent segment on The Colbert Report. Here’s the link: Glenn Beck Revisited.
The Poetry Friday Roundup is at A Wrung Sponge this week.
Here is my submission for this week’s Monday Poetry Stretch - Spinning Tales at the Miss Rumphius Effect. I wrote the following poem in the form of a Q & A. It’s from an unpublished collection entitled Excerpts from the Fairy Tale Files. I did make a few changes to the poem this morning. (You can read more of the poems from the collection here.)
Q: Who was the nemesis of Baby Bear?
A: A girl with curly golden hair.
She ate his porridge, broke his chair,
And took his comforter. Beware!
She did the same thing twice before
To Baby Buck and Baby Boar.
Her parents thought her antics droll.
They let her keep the things she stole.
They let her stay up late at night.
They never taught her wrong from right.
Beware of Goldilocks, that brat—
Don’t let her near your habitat!
Here’s my response to Tricia’s Monday Poetry Stretch - Personal Ad Poetry.
My poem doesn’t exactly follow the rules. The poem was supposed to be a personal ad about a favorite animal or historical figure. My personal ad poem was composed by the fairy godmother from Perrault’s version of the Cinderella tale.
FAIRY FOR HIRE
by Elaine Magliaro
Did you get an invitation
To the prince’s ball in May?
Would you like a brand new pumpkin coach
To ride in on that day?
Do you want a silk brocaded gown
To spend the gala day in?
A shiny pair of crystals shoes
To waltz the night away in?
Just call me any day or night
At MAGIC WAND SUPPLIERS.
I’ll conjure up the lovely things
Your little heart desires.
Here’s an original fairy tale poem from my unpublished collection Excerpts from the Fairy Tale Files.
A CHARMING PRINCE HAS SECOND THOUGHTS
by Elaine Magliaro
Listen…Sleeping Beauty snoring
Sounds just like a lion roaring!
If I kiss her cheek, she’ll rise
And look into my deep blue eyes.
She’ll fall in love with me no doubt.
I’m the only prince hereabout.
Should I kiss Beauty? Should I not?
In this dilemma I am caught.
If I wake her now she’s mine—
A roaring, snoring valentine!
I know they say that love is blind,
But it’s not deaf. I’m disinclined
To rouse this maid. I’ll let her snore
And dream of me forevermore.
********************
At Blue Rose Girls, I have a poem by Wendell Berry entitled The Peace of Wild Things.
Karen Edmisten has the
Poetry Friday Roundup today.
Recently, I posted a poem from Excerpts from the Fairy Tale Files, an unpublished collection of humorous fairy tale poems I began writing in 1994. The collection includes poems written in different formats: letters from one fairy tale character to another, question and answer poems, classified ad poems—even a FAX from the Seven Dwarfs to Snow White.
Here are links to some of the poems from Excerpts from the Fairy Tales Files that I have posted to date at Wild Rose Reader and Blue Rose Girls:
Not All Princes Are Cut from the Same Cloth (A Rapunzel Poem)
Thoughts of the Wolf as He Descends the Third Little Pig’s Chimney
For Sale: Fairy Tale Artifact
Queen Speaking to Rumpelstiltskin When he Returns to Claim Her Firstborn Child
I had a lot of fun experimenting with different forms while I was writing fairy tale poems. I even wrote some “fairy tale hit tunes” to be sung to well-known melodies. Here’s one of the tunes that I’ve been tinkering with lately:
On Top of the Castle
(To be sung to the tune of On Top of Old Smoky)
By Elaine Magliaro
On top of the castle
All covered with stones
We ate our roast dragon
Then cracked up the bones.
We tossed the bone fragments
Down into the moat.
They hit the young princess.
They sank her small boat.
The king dove to save her
So she didn’t drown.
He ruined his new robe.
He lost his gold crown.
The king got so angry
He threw us in jail.
That’s where we’re composing
This musical tale.
As I was cruising around the kidlitosphere yesterday, I came upon Alkelda’s post about Rapunzel at Saints and Spinners. It got me to thinking. I loved fairy tales when I was a child. Later, I loved doing an extensive unit on fairy tales when I was an elementary teacher. I had my students do a number of creative writing and art activities in class, including penning fairy tale poems. I was so inspired by their writing that I decided to begin work on my own collection of humorous fairy tale poems in 1994. That poetry manuscript, Excerpts from the Fairy Tale Files, has been sitting around for years. I revise some of the poems from time to time. I’ve never submitted the collection, though. Here is one of the poems from the collection:
NOT ALL PRINCES ARE CUT FROM THE SAME CLOTH
By Elaine Magliaro
(All rights reserved)
“Yoohoo, Rapunzel! It’s your prince
With a gallon of Supreme Crème Rinse…
A gift for you, my lady fair,
To take the tangles from your hair.
Oh hark! Rapunzel, listen, dear.
There’s something urgent you must hear.
I cannot climb your golden braid.
I’ve vertigo and I’m afraid
Of falling from the tower top—
At least a fifty-five-foot drop!
I just might break my royal bones.”
Rapunzel, in the tower, groans.
“Alas, I’ll live here all my life.
How will I marry? Be your wife?
You’re just a chicken! How did I
Get stuck with such a coward? WHY?
Sleeping Beauty’s prince is brave,
Prevails through hazards just to save
His dozing damsel in distress.
YOU give me crème rinse? I’m depressed.
Now show some gumption or I’ll be
A prisoner for eternity.
Unless you free me from this jail,
No one will write our fairy tale.”
Today I have a fairy tale poem for MotherReader. I did try to write her a special poem about a book that told of the travails of a china rabbit—but I just couldn’t get past the first few lines. I think we all know how much MR loved that book! Who could forget her special Tulane Readers Theatre blog?
My failed first attempt at a poem for MotherReader:
That book about a bunny
Wasn’t funny.
That tale of Ed Tulane
Gave me a pain!!!
So...sad to say: There's no rabbit poem for MotherReader--just a poem about a wolf and a clever little piggy.
THOUGHTS OF THE WOLF AS HE DESCENDS THE THIRD LITTLE PIG’S CHIMNEY
by Elaine Magliaro
This Pig’s outwitted me before.
No, I won’t knock upon his door,
Won’t threaten him, won’t huff and puff.
I’m finished with that macho stuff.
WELL…down the chimney here I go.
I’ll get that little pig. Ho, ho!
Can’t wait to taste his tender meat,
His juicy snout, his porky feet.
I’ll serve him up with grated cheese,
Potatoes, parsley, parsnips, peas.
Yeh! That’s my kind of swiney grub.
Uh-oh!
Splish-splash!
Bubble!
GLUB!
I guess I’m in hot water now.
Goodbye, cruel world.
I’m piggy chow!
It all began last week with my Fairy Tale Friday post. I entered the imaginary kingdom of fairy tales…and I’m still here—much longer than I had intended to be. You see…I couldn’t find the trail of breadcrumbs Hansel had left for me in the forest. (He knows how directionally challenged I am.) I’m trying to stay calm and make the best of my situation since there’s no cell phone service in this neck of the literary world.
There’s a lot to see here in the land of enchanted woods, gingerbread cottages, fairy godmothers, talking wolves, little guys who know how to spin straw into gold, and slimy frogs who keep insisting they’re royalty! Wait a minute. What’s this I see? The Baba Yaga Bookstore! Imagine a little shop walking around on chicken legs. Maybe I’ll just jump over the threshold and see what’s inside.
Oh, look! Here’s a book by one of my favorite children’s poets!
YOU READ TO ME, I’LL READ TO YOU:
VERY SHORT FAIRY TALES TO READ TOGETHERWritten by Mary Ann Hoberman
Illustrated by Michael Emberley
Published by Little, Brown
(2004) Great! It’s a book of short, rhyming fairy tale stories told in two voices. The text is printed in three different colors: red for the first voice, magenta for the second voice, and blue when both voices speak in unison.
Mary Ann Hoberman, recipient of the NCTE Award for Excellence in Poetry for Children in 2003, is a master of meter and rhyme. The stories in this book are rhythmic and playful and a lot of fun to read aloud. Here’s an example from the book to give you a flavor of these tales told in two voices:
From THE THREE LITTLE PIGS
I’m Big Bad Wolf.
I’m Little Pig.
You’re very small.
You’re very big.
But now I’ve got you
In my pot.
The water’s getting
Very hot.
I’ll cook you up
And make a stew.
Why, that’s an awful
Thing to do.
Pig keeps Wolf in the cooking pot until he apologizes for eating Pig’s siblings. Pig then lets Wolf out of the pot and gives him a block of ice to sit on so he can cool his hindquarters. Then both characters sit down and read together:
What will you read?
A tale that’s true.
A tale about
Both me and you.
Can I read, too?
If you know how.
Of course I do.
Then let’s start now.
We’ll read Three Little Pigs
Right through.
You read to me.
I’ll read to you.
This book is great from start to finish. It includes eight tales for two voices. I just wish it had been available when I was still teaching second grade. I know my students would have loved to do choral readings of the tales in this book.
Michael Emberley’s cartoon-style illustrations complement Hoberman’s lighthearted text. The facial expressions of the humans and animals really enliven their characters and add to the humor of the tales.
One thing I especially like about
YOU READ TO ME, I’LL READ TO YOU is the way Hoberman ends the book by encouraging readers to read the old tales that were the inspirations for the rhyming stories in her book—as well as other fairy tales they haven’t yet read:
From THE END
And so our fairy tales
Are through.
We’ve read them all.
What shall we do?
We could reread them.
Yes, we could.
That might be fun.
That might be good.
But, then again,
We could read some
Of these old tales
That these are from…
And I am pleased to tell you that the characters in this book live—and read—happily ever after!
Ooops! Crash! Oh no! I think I just cracked the dainty little glass slipper that was displayed on the bookshelf near the Cinderella stories. The slipper that was sitting next to the sign:
You crack it—you wear it!
IF THE SHOE FITS: VOICES FROM CINDERELLA
Written by Laura Whipple
Illustrated by Laura Beingessner
Published by Margaret K. McElderry
(2002)
This is a book of poems told in different voices—including the voices of Cinderella, a rat, feet, Cinderella’s slipper, and the nasty stepsisters. Most of the poems do not rhyme; they are not humorous parodies. The “voices” express their thoughts and feelings. The stepmother bemoans her poor life before she married Cinderella’s father and her new husband’s weakness, the queen doubts the beautiful young maiden who “sparkled at the ball,” the other slipper feels abandoned and then repulsed and pained by all the big feet struggling to stuff themselves into it.
Here are a few excerpts from the book:
From FATHER’S GHOST
Hear my voice first.
Blinded by a cunning woman,
I was the unfortunate fool
who set the stage
for the ashes and tears in this tale.
From THE STEPSISTERS’ PROMISE
Cinderella, stir those ashes.
Cinderella, tie my sashes.
Cinderella, you’re always much too slow.
Cinderella, place these laces.
Cinderella, paint our faces.
Tonight’s the ball, but you’ll stay home, you know.
From THE OTHER SLIPPER
Each day, a tougher trial.
Heavy, ugly, big feet
pushing down on my very sole!
Oh! I shuffle with pain!
Oh! I shudder silently!
The threat of shattering!
Oh! The strain on a shoe!
Why? I demand to know why!
When will he search for my mate?
When will we step together again?
This would be an excellent book to read in conjunction with a unit of study of Cinderella stories from around the world. It could also serve as a springboard for a creative writing activity in which students are encouraged to write their own “voices from Cinderella” poems.
Laura Beingessner’s illustrations are done with a deft and delicate hand. There are several colorful two-page spreads. Most of the pictures, though, are smaller spot illustrations set against a white background. The format and size of IF THE SHOE FITS help indicate it as a book for middle readers.
Crikey! Baba Yaga just got into her mortar and went flying off over the treetops. I think I’ll put the cracked glass slipper back on the shelf, jump back over the threshold, and try to find my way home once again. Oh…look! The old witch left a pile of discarded, out of print books by her woodpile.
Hmmm…this one looks interesting.
TRAIL OF STONES
Written by Gwen Strauss
Illustrated by Anthony Browne
Published by Alfred A. Knopf
(1990)
I think I’ll start by reading from the introduction.
Strauss says she began writing these poems many years ago when she was “exploring the theme of metamorphosis in fairy tales.” Anthony Browne had also been working with fairy tale themes. They both wanted to “approach fairy tales from a new perspective” and “decided to collaborate on a book in which a combination of drawings and poems would form a collection of portraits, in the hope that such a collection might open a small door into the quieter moments of transformation and reveal those dark and startling events that lie buried within the stories.”
This is definitely a book for older readers. The twelve “portrait” poems are persona poems in which fairy tale characters speak in their own voices—as in The Prince and The Waiting Wolf:
From THE PRINCE
Imagine this: we’re in the garden harvesting,
and you’re telling me how our children suckled,
Their mouths opened like dark moons.
When you speak to me like this,
I want to say everything,
And I want to put my hands on your lips.
For a long time I was blind,
Even before the thorns of roses tattered my eyes.
I was bored, handsome, a prince.
The thrill was in what I could get away with.
From THE WAITING WOLF
She will have the youngest skin
I have ever touched, her fingers unfurling
like fiddleheads in spring.
My matted fur will smell to her of forest
moss at night. She’ll wonder about my ears,
large, pointed, soft as felt,
my eyes red as her cloak,
my leather nose on her belly.
These portrait poems and Browne’s black and white illustrations in
TRAIL OF STONES transport us to another dimension—a quieter, darker realm of fairy tales that few of us have ever visited.
I don’t suppose Baba Yaga will mind if I take this book. After all, she left it outside where it would get soaked in the first drenching rain. Besides…now I have this “trail of stones” to help me find my way back home.
I hope you enjoyed our visit to The Baba Yaga Bookstore as much as I. Now, before I leave this enchanted kingdom, I’d like to send you off to find a
fairy tale poem—one written by Jane Yolen. Just wave your magic wand, click on the link, and you will be whisked away to Poetry 180. Then,
Happy Poetry Friday!
What a great poem, Elaine!