Normally I'd write something that helps me process or celebrate life and discover new things about God and myself. But not today. Not this week.
I'm pooped from a full semester of teaching, and it's all I can do to plow through my last pile of grading.
I usually somewhat enjoy grading, but oh! the lengths I have to go to to maintain my sanity while grading with such a tired brain. I find myself having to schedule distractions every thirty minutes or so.
I make smoothies with the oranges from our tree.
I get out my guitar, shut my windows, and sing "Killing Me Softly" at the top of my lungs.
I water my garden, prune my roses, and weed.
I stand on the diving board and twist myself into all sorts of poses that make my shadow on the pool floor look like a professional ballerina.
I curl my hair.
I do laundry.
I wash dishes.
I lie in the grass, look up, and admire the majestic hawk soaring across the sky, before realizing it is actually a pigeon.
And, of course, I read poetry.
Poetry is a sanctuary for me. It is a place of peace I can escape to that helps me to slow my racing mind, and rejuvenate my tired spirit.
And so, in honor of my rather large pile of grading, I give you a post from the archives: an original poem from a third grade student I taught years ago.
I hope it gives you a brief and sunny escape from the day's responsibilities.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
My students learned how to write non rhyming poetry today. I asked them to write a poem about some type of city wildlife. Their imagery made me chuckle. Here's one of my favorites (completely uncorrected):
Today I saw
a baby squirrel.
The squirrels teeth
was fricken me out
its teeth were all black.
The squirrel's head
was shining like
Its nails were
sharp like a
*To read more about my adventures teaching third grade click on the label entitled "Room 341" in the cloud on the right of the page.
© by scj