Poetry (the non-rhyming kind)

I am posting some poetry in hopes that it will motivate me to come back and write more.  Most of these are from the spring of 2008, when I took a writing class and cautiously stepped into the poetry world.  I never knew how much I'd love it!  I'll just start with a couple for today.  I had forgotten about the first one and it almost brought tears to my eyes when I read it just now.  It was written about my 1st grade special ed students when I taught a self-contained class.  I think much of my actions are the same now (I hope!) but it does make me miss self-contained a bit...I had so much more time with them - I miss those daily hello's and goodbyes at the beginning and end of the day.

What Really Matters

Do they get it?

Do they understand why some letters have multiple sounds?

Do they know which five letters are vowels, and why they are different than consonants?

Can their minds stretch to capture the difference between to, too, and two?

Is there any way to explain to them what a proper noun is,

And why “I” is always capitalized, but “a” only some of the time?

Do they get it?

They smile when I point out their new shirt.

They wear that same shirt two or three times in a week

Because they know I like it.

They come to school ready to show me a new haircut

And I know that my comment of, “You’re looking good!”

Means the world to them.

My careful observation – they get it.

Does it make any sense to them that the equal sign

Is sometimes made up of one line, and other times of two?

Can they discriminate between fifteen and their made up “fiveteen”?

Do they see why I tell them the number they see is not 41, but 14?

Does it confuse them when I say add, plus, take away, and subtract?

Do they get it?

I casually rub their head or play with their hair as I walk by their desks.

I put my arm around them when they come close to me.

I give high fives and huge smiles to congratulate them.

I say hello to each student – by name – as they enter every single morning.

They randomly come up during the school day to give me a hug.

I stroke their head, touch their back, or give each a hug before they go;

They know they are not allowed to leave without saying goodbye.

My touch – they get it.

Do they understand the weather?

Life cycles?

Food chains?

Forests, swamps, and deserts?

Do they get it?

They know my expectations

Academically

Socially

They know I will not take excuses

On behavior or their work

They see my tough love.

They get it.

What matters more?

Expectations, follow-through, and love?
Or skills that may get them through life?

Can one succeed without the other?

My love – they get it.

Change of pace - the next one is short and lighthearted...

Winding Mess

You will know me

by my red

curly

and  increasingly fuzzy

headful of

hair.

I can’t make it be good

and calm

and collected

like girls want their hair.

It just flies around

up

and

down

and gets wider

and frizzier

and in the way

until finally

I either pull it back

or give in

and let it

take over

my life.

Now, since I seem to be in a mood to embarrass myself, here are some pictures of what my crazy hair can do!

This is what it looks like if I don't shower.

(The beagle/hound is my sister's, the boxer/pitbull is our dog Bella.)

This is what I do after work when I have given

up for the day - pull it all the way back!

This is the most control I can have...only half back.

(This is me and my husband Micah

enjoying some frozen custard.)

This is me last month making baby food. 

I had no idea until just now how

large it is...looks like it's time

to get it thinned again!