Every Ending is a New Beginning

Posted on June 17, 2014 by Lora

As the school year draws to a close, so does another year’s journey in both teachers’ and students’ lives. For some children, this sudden abandon from all they have grown accustomed to (and love) is not an easy transition.

I recall, several years ago, when one of my beloved students had a very hard time ending the year. Any time there was any reference made to the summer holidays, this otherwise happy-go-lucky girl, would break down into tears. It completely took me by surprise (and melted my heart) when she confessed to being sad about not having me as her teacher anymore (she had been with me for both JK and SK). I consoled her as best as I could and we came up with a plan – she would come in to help me pack for the rest of the week and also be my special helper during recess the following school year. It wasn’t an ending. It was a new beginning.

It has been two years since, and this precious child still comes in every single day to help me. I appreciate her dedication and support, but more than anything else I value the lesson she has taught me and continues to remind me of each day. Regardless of age, background, title, position, etc., there is a beautiful bond that exists between people, if we just recognize it and let it flourish.

With that thought, I’d like to share a poem I wrote. As I often do with my students (and family and friends alike), I would love to hear your interpretations of it.

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Lora

We Made a Pact

running We made a pact, he and I.
He’d come out and I’d join too.

We made a pact, not long ago.
He’d bring the warmth and I’d rejoice.

We made a pact, this much is true.
He’d light the sky and I’d lead the way.

We made a pact, but he bailed out.
Just like that, got up and left.

I searched for him as night crept in,
across the field,
between the clouds,
over the hills.

No sign of him.

I called to him but silence followed.
I grunted, frowned – I was not pleased.

I won’t forgive him.
I won’t. I won’t.

And now, because of his shenanigans,
Mommy said to go inside.

bed I ate my dinner but I was mad.
I brushed my teeth but I was livid.

I lay in bed, covered in heaps.
I won’t forgive this – we had a pact.

I tossed and turned and missed him so.
Perhaps I should forgive him.

I closed my eyes as sleep crept in.
Maybe, just maybe, I thought,
I’ll give him one last chance tomorrow.

We Made a Pact by Lora Rozler is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

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Posted on May 22, 2014 by Lora

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Poetry is calling …

Posted on April 18, 2014 by Lora

“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words”.
Robert Frost

“Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks”.
Plutarch

“A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language”.
W. H. Auden

“Poetry can be dangerous, especially beautiful poetry, because it gives the illusion of having had the experience without actually going through it.”
Rumi

“One merit of poetry few persons will deny: it says more and in fewer words than prose”.
Voltaire

Hello everyone. April is National Poetry month – and it so happens, I LOVE poems! In recognition, I would like to share a couple of poems by two of my favourite authors.

Messy Room
By Shel Silverstein

Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater’s been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or–
Huh? You say it’s mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!

There is great collection of Shel Silverstein’s work on: http://www.shelsilverstein.com/

My Teacher Calls Me Sweetie Cakes

My teacher calls me sweetie cakes.
My classmates think it’s funny
to hear her call me angel face
or pookie bear or honey.

She calls me precious baby doll.
She calls me pumpkin pie
or doodle bug or honey bunch
or darling butterfly.

My class is so embarrassing
I need to find another;
just any class at all
in which the teacher’s not my mother.

Check out Kenn Nesbitt’s website for other great poems: http://www.poetry4kids.com

Here are some other links to cool poetry pages:

http://www.gigglepoetry.com/poemcategories.aspx

http://www.storyit.com/Classics/JustPoems/classicpoems.htm

http://www.poetryarchive.org/childrensarchive/home.do

http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems/

If you have a favourite poem that you’d like to feature on our blog (perhaps even your own), please submit it to us at wordsonalimb@bell.net. Remember to include the author’s name.

Please note: Words on a Limb does not claim ownership of any of the poems posted.