Just as Saturday morning TV programming was reserved for kids’ cartoons, PWR reserves Saturday mornings for recommendations of kids’ books.

Today’s recommendation is a collection of poems for kids. No, it is not a Cybils nominee; this one was published in 2018. The book had such a joyous cover by illustrator, Raul Colon, that I picked it up at my local library.

Pat Mora, the author of the poems, a beloved children’s poet, has written about things “bookish”–literary for the most part–and has included a few poems about kids themselves for good measure.

Here are a few of Raul Colon’s marvelous illustrations:

This back cover image expresses well the joy books can bring. It certainly brought joy to my heart!


Teens read for many reasons: escape, connectedness, self-growth, and entertainment.

Today’s Saturday morning recommendation is a Cybils nominee I finished last night.

I am serving as a first round panelist in poetry for middle grades and YA. I get to read all the nominated books, both anthologies and novels in verse.

What if everyone is evacuated because of an “impending threat,” and you are left behind?

This novel in verse is set in a strange situation. The protagonist finds herself left behind after an equally strange evacuation. Dealing with many questions and what ifs, she spends over three years totally alone, learning survival skills as she goes. Her father thinks she is with her mother, and vice versa, and three quarters through the story, she realizes that her parents aren’t coming back for her–the reverse of the thought that kept her going.

Facing martialist looters, wild dogs, and other scary things, the main character deals with the scariest disaster of all: being completely alone. It is a page-turner from the first poem, and one your middle-schooler or teen will not be able to put down.


Copy the first line or two from your current read to generate interest in the book you are reading.

Today’s (October 8th) Friday First Liner is from a novel in poetry form I am reading for Cybils.

It is from Ellen Hopkins’ What About Will. Having written fourteen best-selling YA novels, this novel in poetry form is aimed at middle grade (grades 5-8) readers. Here is the beginning of the first poem:

“My Big Brother”

“Always/had a /short /fuse/but now/it’s permanently lit.”

The novel tells the story from the perspective of Trace, Will’s younger, middle-school-aged brother, who after Will’s “incident” finds his world turned upside down. This will be one of many poetry/novels I will read for the Cybils Awards as a panelist in poetry.


Thanks to this Purple Booker’s meme, I am able to share a teaser from a wonderful book I have just finished.

The Comfort Book by Matt Haig offers just that–comfort.

Opening it at random this morning before returning it to the library, I found these words as a reminder of how to start and spend my day:

“A Thing I Discovered Recently”

“I love stillness. Slowness. When nothing is happening. The blueness of the sky. Inhaling clean air. Birdsong over traffic. Lone footsteps. Spring flowers blooming with defiance. I used to think the quiet patches felt dead. Now they feel more alive. Like leaning over and listening to the earth’s heartbeat.”

Thank you, Evin.
The Comfort Book made me feel better.


In an effort to read more poetry this year than last (a 2021 goal), I am challenging myself with a short objective–to read a poem a day for ten days. And, what better way to do this than to use, the “original poetry service publishing new work by contemporary poets.” I subscribed today, Sunday, August 22nd, 2021.

Today’s featured poem is by Walter Everette Hawkins, a native of North Carolina, born in 1888.

Our ties to North Carolina, My Better Half’s birth state, incline me positively towards this poet to begin with.

The poem is titled, “The Drowsy World Dreams On.” In it, the poet marks the occurrence of many things, while “the drowsy world dreams on,” oft repeated as the final line of each stanza.

The final stanza of the poem sums up the world’s indifference to daily happenings, both large and small:

“And the dreary old world’s growing gloomy and gray,

While the joys that are sweetest are passing away;

And the charms that inspire like the picture of dawn

Are but playthings of Time–they gleam and are gone,

While the drowsy world dreams on.”

I will not post a poem a day and my interpretation of it, for the goal is to read poetry, not write about it. Instead, I would encourage you readers to choose a poem a day service and read a poem a day for whatever amount of time you choose to challenge your self for. Happy Reading–of POETRY!

Thanks, Evin!


One of my 2021 reading goals was to read more poetry. I have not read as much poetry as I would have liked, but recently, I checked a book out of my local library that was about poetry

The colorful cover attracted me, and I have always admired e.e. cummings. Although the publication date was 1958, the book was a fascinating read of essays and other pieces by cummings himself. In the first section, an essay by cummings “Is Something Wrong?” poses the question, “Is something wrong with America’s creative artists?” cummings’ answer is a yes and no. Also, he points out that each of us has a poet within, and he gives this advice: “Do not fear the artist in yourselves, my fellow citizens. Honor him and love him. Love him truly–do not try to possess him.” He ends this essay with, “Only the artist in yourselves is more truthful than the night.”

In the second part, an essay, “A Poet’s Advice to Students,” cummings defines the poet as: “A poet is someone who feels, and who expresses his feelings through words.” He continues, “…And so my advice to all young people who wish to become poets is: do something easy, like learning how to blow up the world–unless you’re willing, but glad to feel and work and fight till you die. Does this sound dismal? It isn’t. It’s the most wonderful life on earth. Or, so I feel.” cummings’ feelings about being a poet is that it isn’t easy; it’s hard, but it’s “the most wonderful life on earth.”

Confession time: I did not read this book cover to cover; I read the essays that “called out to me.” As my grandson would say, “I did not read the entire book; I ‘used’ it.”

Thank you Evin

Parody is the imitation of the style of another work, writer or genre, which relies on deliberate exaggeration to achieve comic or satirical effect. .

One of my favorite types of poetry is the parody. It is easy to write and often very funny. Here is a parody over an American phenomenon :

“Stopping By Starbucks on a Snowy Evening”

“(with apologies to Robert Frost)

Whose beans these are I think I know.

They’re ground to brew and packed to go.

No one will see me stopping here.

To warm my gut with mugs of Joe.

The head barista’s feeling queer

From many shots of black liqueur.

She’s had much more than she can take

Of serving scones and coffee cake.

She gives her mocha hair a shake

To tell me there is no mistake.

The only other sound’s the sweep

Of credit cards and change she makes.

Her latte’s lovely, dark and deep,

But I have lines to rhyme, then break.

And miles to go before I wake,

And miles to go before I wake.”

(Paul Fisher)

Celebrate National Poetry Month in April.


To celebrate today, I’m featuring a poem I have always loved and have shared with students on many levels.

“Swift Things Are Beautiful”

“Swift things are beautiful:

Swallows and deer,

And lightning that falls

Bright-veined and clear,

Rivers and meteors,

Wind in the wheat,

The strong-withered horse,

The swift runner’s feet.

And slow things are beautiful:

The closing of day,

The pause of the wave

That curves downward to spray,

The ember that crumbles,

The opening flower,

And the ox that moves on

In the quest of power.”


We would go on to use this poem as a model, writing poems about tiny things, large things, dull things, shiny things. This is a good “starter” for constructing a poem.


Today I received my newsletter from The Academy of American Poets in the mail. Some of the more interesting points were as follows:

“Twenty-five years ago in April of 1996, it was Academy of American Poets members who provided the initial seed money for us to announce and carry out National Poetry Month for the first time…

Over the years, our annual celebration of poets and poetry has been recognized in The New York Times, USA Today, Time, The Washington Post, People magazine , and thousands of other publications…

…the month of April has become by far the most important time of year for the release of new poetry…and sales of poetry by recognized authors and new poets alike [increase].

…events numbering in the hundreds of thousands have taken place–no exaggeration–at libraries, community centers, places of worship, at parks, town squares…all aimed at bringing poetry into the lives of local citizens and fostering a greater appreciation for beloved poets of the past as well as today’s new voices.”

The organization sent me a National Poetry Month poster, and they will be sending weekly lesson plans to 35,000 teachers nationwide. Other online programs, readings, and celebrations will be held as well.

I plan to celebrate National Poetry month with a poetry contest in my Advanced Writing class and to personally read a new poem each day of the month. Let me share today’s with you. This is from Margaret Atwood’s Dearly, her latest collection of poems:

“Ghost Cat”

“Cats suffer from dementia too. Did you know that?

Ours did. Not the black one, smart enough

to be neurotic and evade the vet.

The other one, the furrier’s muff, the piece of fluff.

She’d writhe around on the sidewalk

for chance pedestrians , whisker

their trousers, though not enough when she started losing

what might have been her mind. She’d prowl the night

kitchen, taking a bite

from a tomato, a ripe peach there,

a crumpet, a softening pear.

Is this what I’m supposed to eat?

Guess not, but where?

Then up the stairs she’d come, moth-footed,

owl-eyed, wailing

like a tiny, fuzzy steam train: Ar-woo! Ar-woo!

So witless and erased. O who?

Clawing at the bedroom door

shut tight against her. Let me in,

enclose me, tell me who I was.

No good. No purring. No contentment, Out

into the darkened dining room,

then in, then out forlorn.

And when I go that way, grow fur, start howling,

scratch at your airwaves:

no matter who I claim I am

or how I love you,

turn the key. Bar the window.”

Margaret Atwood’s voice is a strong one in her poems. Often her “messages” or thoughts are not what we expect, but she is always unique, a voice to be heard. Thanks to my friend, Mary Allen, who gave me a signed copy of this 2020 collection of Atwood poems. I hope to read the entire collection this month to celebrate National Poetry Month, 2021.


Thanks Carla of Carla Loves Books for this lovely illustration. Be sure to check out her blog for HER Saturday morning post.

In honor of National Poetry Month, today’s Saturday Mornings for Kids will feature renowned children’s poet, Shel Silverstein.

My introduction to Silverstein came as a sixth grade teacher, who after seeing a review of Light in the Attic in the Houston Chronicle, asked for a copy for her birthday so she might share it with her students.

My students loved the cartoonish illustrations and the sound-rhythms of the poems I read aloud.

Not long after, Silverstein published Where the Sidewalk Ends, and I treated myself to a copy. This was followed by a purchase of Falling Up.

Becoming enamored more and more by Silverstein’s poetry, I took the poetry collections to school, introduced them, and read several poems aloud, sharing the illustrations like a teacher of much younger students might, holding up the book and panning around so all could see them. Afterwards, I would place the books on a side counter, encouraging students who had finished their work to go over to the counter and look at/read them. We even started a “game” where students would take a fancy bookmark left in each book and move it to one of their favorite poems. I think the students were as interested in each other’s tastes in poetry as they were in the poems themselves. I began this introduction to poetry the second or third year I taught sixth graders, and continued it the remaining four years I taught sixth grade in an elementary setting.

Silverstein has something for everyone. The Giving Tree, one of his most emotional narrative poems, appeals to all ages, and touches the hearts of the hardest-hardened adults.

The perfect gift for almost any occasion.