It's the end of April, which means it's also the last day of National Poetry Month. To say goodbye to this month and what also feels like goodbye to spring, I've chosen one last poem from one of my favorite young poets Emma Flood, an ethereal wanderlust of words for those who seek to dream.
Like that orange cat Garfield, most people with traditional "9 to 5" jobs don't love Mondays. So to brighten up my Monday, and hopefully someone else's...
There is something about spring that just feels like poetry. Maybe that's why April was chosen for National Poetry Month. Yet, I'm struggling to really appreciate the beauty of this season...Apparently only Wordsworth can tell me why.
Yes, it's April 1, which means it's April Fool's Day. Boring! One day to play jokes on each other? No thanks. I'm more interested in the fact that this marks day 1 of National Poetry Month. Here's how to celebrate. Plus a poem by a wonderful young poet to start the month off right.
Anyone else need a pick-me-up these days? I know I do. So, in the spirit of spreading the love, here are 10 quotes from writers that provide me with that punch of inspiration, thoughtfulness, intelligent ideas or positivity that I need so desperately these days.
Emma Lazarus. It's not a name you probably know. But, you know her words. You've heard them before, even if you've decided to forget them...
I am lucky to know some very talented people of all ages, many of them writers and poets. And, I'm lucky that they will share their work with me. Therefore, I've decided to start a poetry series as part of my blog. This is the first in the series. It's called called 12:10 AM by Emma Flood.
Fall is one of my favorite times of the year. Since I live in Northern Virginia, I get to experience fall in it's full glory. Even if fall doesn't officially end until December, unofficially it's nearly time to say goodbye. I'm sad it is coming to a close, but I look forward to it returning again. And, in a way that feels like a larger metaphor at the moment. Therefore, as an ode to fall, I wrote a little poem to say good bye. Oh and there are pictures too.
If You Want to Understand Why I’m Crying It’s because I can’t protect her I can’t protect her against The rising tides of water and hatred I can’t protect her when She leaves my arms for school Where children with spinning compasses And growing access to lethal weapons and unchecked prejudices Can penetrate the sanctuary Of education and innocence