I feel I owe a debt to J.K. Rowling on so many levels in my life and that sounds so corny, but it is true.

It was her Harry Potter series that gave me material to practice how to teach large groups of kids about characters. It was good practice how to adapt into scripts and construct props too.

It was her series that I was reading as one of my favorite pets was dying and I grieved over Dumbledore and my beloved cat that summer, but it gave me a place to channel that grief.

It was the bravery of the final book and all its uncertainty in finding a way to finish what had to be done and in that year I finished a particular job era. The what nexts of the next few years, I re-read that final book every year till I found a place to land in my life. I think I read it five years straight.

And then this summer, I was frustrated with my son, who began reading at a super early age, had given up on reading all fiction books he said. Right after he turned eleven I got him to start listening to me read the Harry Potter books because Harry in that first book turned eleven. He got hooked and never turned back!

It has been ten months to read all of them out loud, but I’ve loved every minute of it! What an actor work out! I wouldn’t trade that time for anything! We finished the last movie tonight also.

Hence the poetry mostly about Harry tonight and one I wrote earlier in the day thinking about the days ahead of me. I’ll try to take on some of that Harry bravery that I just spoke about.

Harry Haikus

Hogwarts Express

Train ride find friends

Crunching candy to brave end

Blasts their wizard world

Feral Car Found

Muggle no magic

Flies till untimely crashes

Wild thing rescues boys

Love Protects

Love disintegrates

Those who are Dark Arts harmed

First story to last

Hagrid’s Pets

Hagrid holds creatures

Rare beauty is charming him

He shows other sides

Harry Potter Has Come

Who is Harry now?

He is a part of fabric

Sews us together

Practicing Magic

Magic is mercy

Spells are our powerful words

Love is the secret

Hogwarts Acceptance

I will so miss you

Reading out loud for two

Curled up on the couch

Or on your bed in a pouch

With a flashlight on

Words breaking like dawn

Into your world

The wizard flag unfurled

You would go on and on

About the tiniest little spawn

Or creature or phrase

In that Harry Potter phase

I will cherish the time we spent

The books were such a gift

To get you talking

In your walking

Or waking hours

You’d quiz me about towers

And wands and curses

And all the versus

Of good guys and bad

And what they did and didn’t have

Or what they thought

Or saw or caught

You wanted to know

What was in their souls?

Our discussions were thrilling

As you were spilling

Out so much of what you think

Now it is over and that stinks

I’ll try to replace these books

With other characters and hooks

To dig you out of your stuck place

So our time together won’t be erased

To Be or Not

I’m wearing a sweatshirt today

With a friendly saying

That keeps at bay

Those thoughts from dwelling

Or welling up feelings

That cry to be stuffed

For something tough

The outer garment

Proclaims a place

I find so pleasing

Because it squeezes

The good things out of me

Even when I’m not looking

Tomorrow we’ll see what’s cooking

From a test they are giving me

Not the paper kind

With books and rhymes

That I could pass with flying colors

No, this one is one of the “others”

That come around the bend

And smack your behind

Because you have been unkind

Or done something way

In the past you didn’t think

Would hurt to take that drink

Of Kool-Aid and now it is too late

It isn’t open to debate

Your body needs testing

Because there is a mess within

And nothing can change that now

It isn’t how you thought

You might be caught

Your mind won’t stop

Until tomorrow

Until then you borrow

What strength you have

From a shirt that says you aren’t bad

And you are glad that such a place exists

And you sit with it all on your plate

Not wanting to eat in this state

You push back from the table

Being stable today

Is where you want to be

In reality, now is the opportunity

To be all that you can be

NaPoWriMo #38 DUCK!

What are the odds on the same day this would happen? Yes, every word is true. I did see a mother duck and her duckling. My dear husband did let a mated pair of them cross the road and then…. (poor guy)! He’s doing okay (thanks for asking).

For the Love of Ducks

Spring has sprung

The grass is riz

The ducks are out

And walking about

I swerved and weaved

But still kept speed

As a mother and baby duckling

These two tiny things

Waddled across my road

On I went to my abode

They strode calmly across

As drivers avoided them at all cost

There was no loss

Mother duck being boss

To baby who distractedly wandered

Running in spasms, blundered,

Its fuzzy headed hopping

Fixated each driver scoping

How best to avoid such a loving scene

Maneuvering our bulky machines

Out of the path of this little family

Watching in my rear view mirror with glee

As they made it to safety

You, however, did a different endeavor

You took such great care

You stopped and took in

Probably with a big grin

As a mated pair of ducks

Crossed your busy road

It was just your luck

In the path of these ducks

You sat contemplating

Their lifelong mating

Just before she came up behind

You saw her but not in time

To do anything about it

(I expect you shouted)

The thud and crunch

Where your cars munched

A hit, a very palpable hit!

I’m sure your stomach turned flips

Your first accident to date!

And it made you so very late

I wondered why I had to wait

Not knowing what you paid

And where you stayed delayed

I asked if the ducks made it

You never hesitated

But told me quite proudly

That they made it soundly

NaPoWriMo #37 All in the timing...

Groucho Marx,” I intend to live forever, or die trying.”

Groucho’s Intent

He looks back over his shoulder

Like a cheesecake take

But he is in a neatly tailored suit

Giving a look to rival

The pin up girls of the time

This whimsical flit

Dares to do more

Then say hello

He wants his audience

To applaud as it is his signature

Face that invites laughter

In his entrance

Yet this black and white snapshot

Is him walking away

Saying something like

“See ya later, if I see ya,

my glasses are fogging up

just thinking about it.”

He oozes the art of double speak

It is his spark

Making ladies playing opposite him

Squeak and often bark

As he chases them verbally

Around the park

Or wherever the scene is set

As it was always the same scenario

With different players

All but three or four

His was the first and last door

To open and close

Saying a signature “hello”

And long lingering adieu’s

Filled to the brim with laughter

Song and dance when he had the chance

Singing of tattooed ladies

And a Captain’s adventures

He somehow skated around the censor

He is part of the wall paper

That decorates the modern comedians

Groucho, you were one of a kind

Timing like yours is hard to find

NaPoWriMo #37 Those electronics can get in the way....

Screens

Tiny wire squares

Stretched over frames

Or encased in a plastic holder

To strain out what is unwanted

To leave the lumps or whole fruit behind

What makes it through is smooth

Or clear pure juice

That can jell the golden notes of summer

Spread on toast there’s nothing like it

Savored on winter’s bleak bones

Electronic screens preserve the dross

The left behind thoughts of millions

Unsifted hunks of soul

Stuck clogging pipes of productiveness

Rendering the flow impossible

A backed up sewer of sludge

Caked under dirty dishes

Slowly draining the life out of you

NaPoWriMo #36 Testing gives me time to compose...

Can you tell it is a week of testing at our school? Yep, most teachers will recognize this one.

Five Minutes and Holding

Electric currents concentrated

For this is the hold

Of being a non-participant

An outlier of norm

A thoroughbred at the gate

Ready to run hard

The leader of those bred

In a constructed race

Not for the horses

But for the owners

And their profit

More than that lone gambler

Who recognizes petite potential

Despite the sour statistics

That points the opposite direction

Circumstances are the great equalizer

That places favor in one’s corner

The chomping at the bit

To break through

And gallop gaining glory

Taking a lap in the winner’s circle

Not everyone will be there

Some go back to the barn

To race another day

But when waiting for that shot

They are all running ahead

On a clear day

No injuries

A jockey who can really ride on top

They stamp eager to go

And the bell rings

They’re off!

Instant loud bangs of lockers

Distant yells in the hallway

Raucous laugher erupting

As students bolt

Out of the gate

To their next class

NaPoWriMo #35 Reflections from a teacher's desk

Middle School Rainbow Box

I’d like to live

In the rainbow striped box

On your desk

You’d pick up the box

With the jaunty gross grain hot pink ribbon

To swing along by your side

The box I imagine filled with

Candy treats or surprise sparkle pencils

Sunshine treats to the diligent that seek perfection

Or it could hold scarlet pink slips

Handed out the those belligerent brave ones

That bucks the system and spends afternoons

With the in-house vice squad

Where purple dreams go “poof”

And parents rail violet to

Teachers via electronic emissions

Defending their darlings against

the one time punishment

that doesn’t even go on any record

Or the box may be empty

to those that look for something there

and see nothing, but a morose mug starring

back at them out of the misty mirror

It is what the blue boys and girls imagine

as they sob in stark white tiled bathrooms

with steal accents and the hard surfaces

echo back to them a single existence

Until they imagine the walls to reflect red

and close, crumbling in on them

as they wipe down their arms

They huddle down in a ball

on the floor, clutching to their chests journals,

full of deep moss green secrets

growing from their bellies which growl

carving out space for the orange creamsicle love they long for

There is always room for this tasty treat

they imagine how good it will taste, or it did

once when they thought they were close to it

They imagine the super saturated taste to burst

through and explode into all the colors of the rainbow

Like this box that shows the spectrum

Of this beginning point in puberty and propensity,

Living between skipping, running, and sliding off,

This highway from birth to adult-like existence

Which is supposed to be our “pot of gold”

Or magic box, which only appears

when our sunshine is mixed with rain

do we see all those beautiful colors

NaPoWriMo #35 How do they grow up?

Mother’s Day

You place your face against mine

The pressure is reassuring

While nearly alarming

Your cheek still so smooth

Almost as the day

you came out formed

you cried for me only then

I am eavesdropping on your

bedtime prattle with your father

Thinking how you used to wriggle

and fight when I’d place you

away from my secure side

into his strong arms

He gave you your first bath

as I could not lift you

I had not recovered

From our shared journey

You looked at him

With eyes so wide and blue

Unsure of his touch

You looked at me

To say, “is it okay?”

I said, “of course”

Which I did a lot

I kept talking

For you to hear

The anchor of my voice

Now you discuss

State and main

All of the things

That call you to speak

With the man you

Once cringed away from

You say little to me

I lean towards

The cheek you silently offer

As your mocking eyes

Tell me I am still

Part of your connection

But the silent movie mode

Will have to be sufficient

For mother and son

I will spy on

father’s magic moments

Until you grant me

audience again with scepter sway

Granting me one more glorious day

NaWriPoMo #34 A little mushy, but somewhat good....

A quick poem for my Honey on Shakespeare's birthday!

Shared

Window to my heart

Is your tearing through

The kitchen and its contents

To make a lamb stew

Or you find a lime or two

Bring out flavor in what we chew

What is our meal divine

This house we’ve made entwined

Together you and I

As steam rises to the sky

A fragrant dish prepared with love

Recipe from our God above

NaWriPoMo #32 & #33 More like exercises, but it'll do for tonight

The first poem is a warm up kind of exercise I do when nothing occurs to me. Tonight it was more poem-like, so I decided it counts. The second is a bit didactic, but okay, so it counts too. Not my best work, but you gotta put out some that aren't great to get to the good stuff too. I can feel I'm not in the right space tonight, but that happens too. 

Sounds My Mind Makes During Pancakes

Pat, pat, pat,

Tap, tap, tip,

Rip, pat, sip,

Lap, fat, cat,

Pal, gal, cow,

Moo, shoe, poo,

Crew, stew, woo,

Goo, sue, clue,

Glue, too, tutu,

Pink, think, drink,

Sthink, clink, clunk

Teacher’s Peach

Teaching is like selecting

The perfect peach

You see it, the beauty as it forms,

It hangs there just out of reach,

And you think how good it will taste

You can smell how the sun

Has ripened it

And how sweet it must taste

But you know it isn’t the time

Yet to pick it

It must stay until it is ripe

You watch and wait

You hope it rains enough

And it is hot enough

Just the right conditions

And the day comes

You get your ladder

To reach up for that

Perfect ripe peach

You almost want to keep

It hanging on the tree

It will taste so good

But after that

You can’t think about that

You pick it and carefully

Go back down the ladder

You show it to everyone

And then you sink your teeth

Into that amazing peach

It is better then you thought

As the juices run

Down your arms and face

But you don’t care

You want to savor

Every bite and so its messy,

It is the best thing ever!

Then it is gone

The curious, wrinkled pit

You hold is all that is left

You look at it

In wonder that a peach

Such a perfect fruit

Came from something so

Ugly, unrefined, and rough,

Yet you know the power of what

Is inside that pit

So you plant it

Knowing that many years

From now that same peach

Or one maybe even better

Will hang on the tree

Made from that central

Thing you just planted

And you walk away

From the orchard

Happy that you found

The perfect pit to plant today

Tomorrow you hope

There is another one