Perfect poetry for little people

Special little people need special gifts. I picked three lovely books of verse as gifts for the little people in my life—my grands—this year.

Littlest one is getting The Moon Shines Down by Margaret Wise Brown. I found it at my local Chapters in a sturdy but affordable board book format.

This lovely volume has poems that muse about how the same moon shines on many different places. In gentle verse it introduces little ones to a variety of cultures and settings ending with a prayer of blessing for each one. I can’t wait to read it to little M!

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Middle grand is getting Tadeo Turtle—an extra special book to me because I know author/illustrator Janis Cox.

Through easy-to-read rhymes we discover Tadeo is unhappy with his shell. Cox’s luminous watercolour illustrations add so much to this story about learning to accept the way God made us. Activity and craft suggestions at the end of the book give it added value.

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For oldest grand I’ve chosen Dark Emperor and Other Poems of the Night by Joyce Sidman. I was first introduced to Sidman and Dark Emperor via Poetry Friday (I forget by whom but whoever you are, I thank you!). I was charmed by the samples of Sidman’s verse I read that day and so pleased with my choice when I finally held the book in my hand, feasted my eyes on the just-a-wee-bit-spooky linocuts by Rick Allen, and read the entire twelve-poem offering.

What I especially like in this book is its fact component. On the page opposite each poem Sidman has written a prose piece about the creature character of her poem, giving us fascinating facts about its physical makeup, habits, and why it is a night creature. Dark Emperor will be the perfect gift to reassure a sometimes fearful-of-the-dark youngster that the night is not only friendly, but interesting.

Ben’s quilt

Ben’s Quilt

I got this quilt from Grandma
Put it on the floor
Ran my cars along the roads
And made the engines roar,

Raced my speedboat in the lake
Drove the kids to school,
Picked up groceries at the store
And hauled wheat to the Pool.*

Other blankets are for sleep
But this one is for play,
No other quilt I know can warm
In such a special way.

© Violet Nesdoly

*Pool was the name of a grain company, painted on many prairie elevators when I was growing up.

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My mom was an inveterate quilt maker. She made some sort of quilt for each of her 20+ grandkids, many of them play quilts. The wonderful thing about these quilts was that each one was different. Some were based on songs or lullabies (one illustrated a song—My Pigeon House—that she sang to each of us when we were babies). Others had themes—birds, animals, nursery rhymes. The photo is of two of the quilts she made. The one on the left is similar in theme to the one she made for my son. You’ll recognize lots of nursery rhyme characters in the one on the right.

“Ben’s Quilt’” is a poem I wrote in 1999. It is a child’s, my son’s, imagined response to Grandma’s quilt. I was reminded of it by Amy’s wonderful poem “Quilt Map” that was part of last week’s  Poetry Friday.

This poem is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Jama Rattigan at Jama’s Alphabet Soup, the most delicious blog on the net.

What can you do with a bathtub?

Bathtub

Bathtub is the perfect place
wash your elbows, hair and face

When the shower lever’s on
grit and sweat are quickly gone

You could also use your tub
wash your puppy or your cub

Fill with water and it floats
fleet of origami boats

Giant vat for washing blinds
stamping grapes and making wine

Soak your dirty pots and dishes
Make a home for tropic fishes

When you know without a doubt
bathtub’s wrecked and all worn out

trash truck loads it with a thump
takes it to the local dump

for retired tub retool
mouse’s rink or swimming pool

- Violet Nesdoly

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I wrote this poem a few years ago in response to a writing prompt. It’s fun to compose ode-like verses about objects. I was going to do a whole series, but never got past writing three or four. (Oh well, at least I have those few!)

This poem is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by the lovely Betsy at Teaching Young Writers. Oops a correction… hosted by the über-talented Amy at The Poem Farm.

 

 

The Tarts (and what really happened)

The Tarts (and what really happened)

According to the nursery rhyme

The Queen of Hearts,
She made some tarts,
All on a summer’s day;
The Knave of Hearts,
He stole the tarts,
And took them clean away.

The King of Hearts
Called for the tarts,
And beat the Knave full sore;
The Knave of Hearts
Brought back the tarts
And vowed He’d steal no more.

What really happened

The Queen of Hearts
She made some tarts
All on a hungry day.
She ate the tarts
and blamed the Knave
For taking them away.

The King of Hearts
Called for the tarts
And beat the Knave full sore
Then he took some cash
from the royal stash
sent Knave to get some more.

Next day the Queen
made tarts again,
this time the Knave was wise.
Surprised that Dame
to the kitchen came
in a King of Hearts disguise.

“Dear Queen of Hearts
my favorite tarts
I think it’s my lucky day!”
Then the Knave of Hearts
bagged up those tarts
and sneaked them throughout the day.

© 2012 by Violet Nesdoly

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I wrote this poem during the November 2010 poem-a-day challenge. That month I used prompts from Robert Brewer at the Poetic Asides blog. The challenge was: “Write a ‘what really happened’ poem. Use a real event (or an event from a popular movie) and spin it in another direction.”

I present this poem to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by the foodie diva herself, Jama Rattigan at Jama’s Alphabet Soup.

Toast

Toast

A pop-up toaster was the thing
you put the slice into the slot
depressed the little knobby thing
and out popped toast, so nice and hot.

But word of toasters got around
in homes and shops a bread revolt
in bakeries throughout the town
loaves named it torture with a jolt.

“We will not take it any more.
We’ll blacken, catch and when you poke
to get us out the bottom door
we’ll burn your hands and bellow smoke!”

Till all the world became intent
on crispy toast that would not shred
and loved the man who did invent
(to pacify both man and bread)
the toaster oven tanning bed.

© 2012 by Violet Nesdoly

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Pure silliness, I know. I wrote this poem in 2009, when I was challenging myself to write poems about various objects.

This poem is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Carol at Carol’s Corner.

Mrs. Backward

Mrs. Backward

Mrs. Backward teaches school
“Nothing Forward” is her rule
Eats her breakfast before bed
Sleeps with pillow on her head
Wears warm woollies to keep cool
Dries before she swims the pool
Gives the prize before the race
Shuts her book then finds her place
Grades our work before we’re done
Class dismissed before begun
But what is making me depressed
Teaches after giving tests!

- Violet Nesdoly

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This is a poem I wrote a few years ago after reading some of the fun poetry on Ken Nesbitt’s Poetry 4 Kids site, and then taking a peek at his poetry lessons. I have never done anything with it, so I’m trotting it out today as my contribution to Poetry Friday, hosted this week at Write. Sketch. Repeat.

Coon Zoo Lullaby

Coon Zoo Lullaby

Come men, if you dare
just jab a date
for a coon zoo tour
don’t be late.

We’ll see toad and tiger
in creature jail
and worms that are leaner
than slime of snail.

For additional fees
(don’t riot the price)
you can jut x-rays
— just be nice

when you query the gait
of the turtle hare.
Will you fill the pail
of his dinnerware?

Waste the lid of nips?
Ha, the day has fled.
Pin the cog of hex
and it’s off to bed.

Your sad looks — Why?
For they rang the bell.
You about to cry?
That’s the matin’s knell

and the painted orb
is the eve of moon
close your eyes, sweet babe
for the day is done.

© 2011 by Violet Nesdoly

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The challenge, from my writing group challenge poser, was to use the following 33 words to write a piece (prose or poetry) 350-words or less:

coon, tour, lid,  painted, price, query,  cog,  eve, jail, jab, why, be,  hex,  ha, x-rays,  dare,  zoo, looks, slime,  fees, men, waste, date, leaner, nips, will, pin, worms, riot, tiger, jut, gait, rang

“Coon Zoo Lullaby” is my nonsense attempt. (Maybe you’d like to give it a try.) I’m afraid the coon in the photo is looking a little freaked out that his name is connected with such a thing. Sorry little buddy!

This poem is submitted to Poetry Friday, which is hosted today at Tabatha Yeatts: The Opposite of Indifference.

Hand Candy

Hand Candy

Smooth ribbed slabs
red, yellow, blue
peel apart
don’t mix red
yellow, blue

Sniff clay smell
squeeze, press, roll
make a ball
watch what you
know to do

Plunge in thumb
pinch up, up
round, around
fingertips
grow a pot

Roll through palms
dangle log
sausage, rope
coil in mat
plate, vase, cup

Chew with hands
soft like gum
twist off half
mold, press, stretch
form a dish

Fingernails
bite off bits
jawbreakers,
M&Ms
chocolate chips

Yellow, blue
add them too
squish, press, knead
lump is veined
purple, green

Sniff the old
smell of brown
beg for new
slabs of red
yellow, blue

- Violet Nesdoly

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Who of us didn’t play with Plasticine as kids? This poem is about my memories of Plasticine when I was first introduced to it as a little girl in a one-room country school in Saskatchewan. Busying us with Plasticine was a great way for teacher to keep the little kids occupied while doing lessons with the big kids.

Canadian writer and illustrator Barbara Reid uses Plasticine as her illustrative medium.

• Check out the wonderful portfolio of plasticine illustrations on Reid’s website.

• Besides illustrating books of stories and rhymes with Plasticine art, Reid has also written a Plasticine how-to book: Fun with Modelling Clay. Here’s an excerpt. A list of all of Barbara Reid’s books Is HERE.

• Find out more about Plasticine on the “About Plasticine” page of her website.

This post is submitted to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Diane Mayr at Random Noodling.

This post is also submitted to Everyday Poems where the April theme is “Candy.”

V is for …

V is for …

Wide mouth perpetually agape
I lie here in the dark and wait
for drawer to open
your warm fingers, thumb
to take me up, align my four incisors
with the soft and toothsome zinc
then squeeze…

Oh ecstasy! The sweet surrender
of malleable metal to my mouth
More – I want more
fangs famished to have at the staples
of every paper in your drawer!

© 2010 by Violet Nesdoly

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I noticed that on a previous Poetry Friday, Heidi Mordhorst (my juicy little universe) told us she was collecting poems in the voices of objects. “V is for… ” is my little shout-out to her. Read her talking object poem “Little Bricks, Little Bricks, Let Me Come In” and Laura Purdie Salas’s “Vacation Time” HERE.

This poem is submitted to Poetry Friday which is hosted this week by Anastasia Suen at Booktalking.

Ocean Neighbourhood

Cuttlefish, Brittle Star, Bull Shark and Conch
Blowfish and Electric Eels
Grey Whales and dogfish Sharks, Gastropods, Clams
Jellyfish, Orcas and Seals 

Purple Sea Urchins, Sand Dollars and Squid
Octopus, Tuna and Sponge
Walrus and Angelfish, Right Whales and Blue
Nurse Sharks and Makos that lunge

Sea horses, Corals, Crustaceans and Krill
Man-of-War, Mollusks — I wish
Dugong my neighbor and Narwhal my friend . . .
Oh, if I only were fish!

© Copyright 2004 – by V. Nesdoly