Second day of teaching: better than the first

Today I had the students write a poem. More specifically, they were following a "poem pattern" known as the "I Am" poem. The pattern gave the students a lead in phrase followed by a suggestion on how to complete the line. For example, the first line of the poem read: I am name two things that describe you. The student could complete it by writing, I am a loving and caring person. The rest of the poem asked them to name things that concerned them, that made them happy, that they look forward to, and so forth.

Most of the students took to the assignment well. Many of the poems I read revealed things to me about my students I could not have imagined.

Then I had the students exchange their poems with someone. They read each others poems and picked out a line they liked in it. They wrote the line down and wrote why they liked it. My purpose in doing this comes from the fact that I am trying to engender a more postive atmosphere in my class and in my school than often exists now.

Tomorrow the students are taking a reading test, the first of many they will take this year. I am not certain how well that will go over, but I will give it my best effort.

Early Spring on the Southern Plains

Blossoming Bradford Pear Trees
The very first harbinger of spring in Oklahoma comes when the Bradford Pear trees blossom. Right now they are in bloom all over OKC.

These trees in bloom bring to my mind one of my favorite poems about another species of flowering tree, the cherry tree.

Loveliest of Trees by A. E. Housman

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.

My Valentine's Poem for My Wife

I wrote a poem for my Valentine's Day gift to my wife. It's not very good, but I had a lot of fun writing it, and she enjoyed getting it.

Like a compass needle always points northward.
So do I always bend towards you,
My Love, my own True North.

Though roads may bend right, then left
As I travel my way through many obligations
And obstacles, I find my paths bending to you.

You are my ever fixed point that guides
My paths, the center providing the calm
From the storms that rise, then fall,
My anchor through the ebbs and swells.

-in just Spring, Oklahoma Style

State Tree of Oklahoma
Redbud
Hyacinths
Our Redbud tree is in bloom along with some of our Hyacinth flowers. It was in the upper 70s today. Spring has definitely come to the Southern Plains. It reminds me of my favorite poem about springtime by the poet e.e. cummings.

in just-

in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman

whistles far and wee

and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's
spring
and
the

goat-footed

balloonMan whistles
far
and
wee

e.e. cummings

St. Valentine's Day

Someone said that you either love this day or hate it; there is no neutral ground.

Well, however you feel about this holiday, you can credit or blame this man:

Geoffrey Chaucer

Chaucer, the medieval English poet best know for The Canterbury Tales, wrote a poem entitled "The Parliment of Foules" (1382) which is based on the legend that February 14th is the day when the birds choose their mates for the year:

For this was on seynt Volantynys day
Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese [choose] his make [mate].

On this foundation was Hallmark's fortune laid.

A Valentine Poem for My Wife

The 3 Fates

You, Me, and the Moirae

Clotho spun out our threads nearly together when both
The 2nd Elizabeth and 2nd Great American novel debuted.
Lachesis chose to weave them in parts of the tapestry
That begin far apart, and then
Oh so close, yet out of each other’s sight
Which was wise for though we were near physically
For a while my straight stitches would have insulted
Your wild arabesques.
My primary colors would have
Clashed with your wild hues.
We were both a work in progress (we hoped).
In time, our weaves moved ever closer.
At first our patterns only touched tangentially,
Similar professions, similar causes,
A meeting here, a rally there, a holy mission together.
Nothing, we found was ever simple.
Finally, our patterns turned in each other’s direction,
And we discovered that my straight lines had curved
And your bends had lost their sharp twists
So that your weft blended with my warp.
The joy is in making the tapestry,
And we both pray that Atropos witholds her shears
Since we are far from finished with it.



Note: The Moirae were the Greek names for the three fates. Clotho started the thread, Lachesis spun it, and Atropos cut if off, signifying death. In this poem, I'm am trying to combine the idea of spinning thread with weaving it into some kind of pattern.