Weather (for Today)

(Alignment of Jupiter, Venus and Moon by Lucas Janin)

Early in the morning, unable to sleep
Fumbling to the living room
I look out the window to see
The fog dampening the flowers and grass,
Yes, dampening the flowers and grass.

Early in the morning, unable to sleep
Stumbling out to the backyard
With my face I feel and hear
The wind thundering in my ear,
Yes, the wind thundering in my ear.

Later in the day, unable to work
Holding still as a lizard
I look out the window to see and hear
The rain drumming on the roof and ground,
Yes, the rain drumming on the roof and ground.

Late at night, unable to sleep,
I see with my eyes
Softly swaying in the sky
The moon waking up,
Yes, the moon waking up.

~Wondering Wood (12-18-08)

This is the poem that was read on the local TV station.  She refers to it as her “weather poem.”

A Spider’s Web

What is so perfect

About a spider’s web

Besides the fact

That its maker

Has mastered

Spinning and threading

The star-like figure in the corner

On its very first try?

And that,

When beads of dew are strung on,

The spider looks like royalty

In its twinkling castle of thread?

And that a grasshopper

Couldn’t escape its tight clutches?

And that it is transparent

Against a sky of grey, purple, black, or blue?

I don’t know what’s so perfect about a spider’s web.

Do you?

~Wondering Wood, 3/2009

In the Valley Below

Another poem:

Standing here, in the valley below

Watching the shadows grow and shrink

With time

Wondering if the beams of golden sunlight

Sifting their way through the trees

Could be even more peaceful and beautiful

Than they are now?

Could the grass tilting away from the breeze

Be more silent than it is now?

Could the dew from the morning

On a spider’s web

Twinkle more than it does now?

Could there be anything imperfect now

In this valley below?

~Wondering Wood, 3/2009

The Three R’s

The Three R’s
~Wondering

When I ride my bike to school,
It makes me very proud
To reduce the use of gasoline,
And listening to the motor so loud.

This is called reducing,
Using a little at a time.
And doing just the opposite,
Is pretty much a crime.

When I finish a juice bottle,
I don’t throw it away.
I wash it, rinse it, and shelf it,
So it can be used another way.

This is call reusing,
A thing I like to do.
And if you try very hard,
You can do it too.

The newspapers, bottles, cans, and glasses,
Get boiled into a brew.
They’re melted and mashed and thrown and thrashed
Into something new.

This is called recycling,
Transforming different things.
Cans, bottles, papers,
And plastic soda rings.

Wondering entered this in the Reflections “I Can Make a Difference” Program, and received the Award of Excellence medal for Literature at the the intermediate level. This was an especially nice surprise because I didn’t get to read the darn thing until it appeared in the school press. Wandering likes to wear the medal; Wondering likes to share.

How I love the girl she is, and continues to become…
♥

My Mama

Wondering made me a card and wrote this in it:

Mama
Cooks my dinner–yummy
And it gives me a happy tummy!

Mama
Takes me many places
Crowded cities, wide open spaces

Mama
Helps me to write and read
And gives to me whatever I need

She’s the best Mama in the World!

May, 2007

Squash Blossom in the Paradise of Children

Wondering read A Wonder-Book for Girls and Boys, by Nathaniel Hawthorne, which, by the way, I highly recommend. She loved it so much that she picked out a very old version at the used bookstore to keep for her very own. And then she decided to do a book report on it, well, on The Paradise of Children chapter. She included this poem, which describes the paradise of children…

There’s beauty and grace
All over the place

Flowers are blooming
Life is not zooming

Birds are singing
Bells are ringing

Apples are ripe
Boys play their pipe

The children play
Against the sun’s hot ray

This is why the wondering Lassie is sometimes called Squash Blossom.

photo by buttersweet

Little Dreamer

A poem by Wondering, inspired by The Little Mermaid.

Little Dreamer

Little dreamer, little dreamer
You dream of land instead of sea.
Little dreamer, little dreamer,
You really interest me.

You care for all the humans,
But care for mostly one.
A prince has caught your eye,
His face shines like the sun.

You love him with all your heart.
He loves you so much too.
I think you’re terribly loving,
And I think it’s terribly true.

My Mother’s Love

A Mother’s Day poem, by Wondering Wood

My Mother’s Love

My mother’s love is healthy.
My mother’s love is sweet.
My mother’s love covers me
From my head down to my feet.

My mother loves me so.
She loves me every year.
My mother keeps me safe.
She never lets me fear.

Horton Poem

Wondering did a book report on Horton Hears a Who and included this acrostic poem (September, 2005). It was early in her poem writing days, and she really wanted our help. We refused, and I’m so glad we did. Surely we could not have done as fine a job!

Horton is an elephant
On a tiny island
Risking his life in the pool.
Today he saw a speck of dust
On the air floating above.
Now on that speck of dust

Having so much fun
Every single Who on it is singing in the sun.
After Horton saves the speck of dust floating down the lake
Raising the speck from the ground
Someone says a few small words, which rarely sound like this:

All the people way down here are happy as can be

What’s your world like up there? I want to look and see.
Horton was so happy, he filled up with glee.
Oh, my friend, your glee will flow right inside of me.

Sonoran Desert

Last Fall, Wondering did a report on the Sonoran desert.
She included this poem she wrote:

The desert was a forest in the beginning,
But when us humans came,
The forest was a desert,
And it never remained the same.

The desert is hot and dry,
So it only gets a little rain,
And in the desert there might be animals
Who won’t exist again.