Wednesday, 10 February 2016

Hello, Found Object Poets. I am taking a break from blogging today.

SimonFOUND: Locust Pods

Don’t beat me over the head with a giant seed pod! We’re still writing and sharing today.

You will find the Day 10 Found Object Poem Project post at Margaret Simon’s blog, Reflections on the Teche. Thank you, Margaret!



I’ll see you back here tomorrow for Day 11. Be sure to leave your Day 10 responses at this post.

baie doll


Filed: Uncategorized

10 responses to “2016 Found Object Poem Project: Day 10”

  1. Linda Baie says:

    Day Ten

    A Lotus Life

    I remember that delicate blossom;
    You burst with all life’s colors,
    and the minutes moved,
    the days passed.
    More beyond the hues emerged.
    You nourished;
    we were thankful.
    You gave all you were able.
    At the end, the music remained,
    only the music displayed.
    It was enough.
    Linda Baie ©All Rights Reserved

  2. Linda Baie says:

    I’ve been surprised that I was stuck writing about my own picture, but here it is, needing help, yet I hope I got the flavor I was trying for.

    Day Eleven

    What I Had

    F ound– faded flowerdy cloth from Mama’s scraps,
    O verlays a piney piece of wood in Papa’s workshop.
    U nder the backyard shade tree, the walnut–
    N ear perfect color of my face.
    D oll delight, looks like me.
    Linda Baie ©All Rights Reserved

  3. Violet N. says:

    I let my kid-self out today …

    Day 11

    On a Visit to Red Riding Hood

    This is a memory
    of Grandmother dear,
    who outsmarted the wolf
    when he came by here

    with the gunny and muslin
    she stuffed in her bed
    and the pumpkin she used
    to mimic her head.

    It’s here on the shelf
    and reminds me each day
    better activate wits
    than be someone’s buffet.

    – Violet Nesdoly

  4. Donna Smith says:

    This struck me as such a stark contrast to a pink, delicate ballerina doll I once had… that my brother broke… not that I’d remember that after over 50 years…

    Day 11

    The Dolls

    Prima Donna ballerina
    Could bend and point her toes;
    Her arms were curved so gracefully –
    No walnut tip for nose;
    She wore a satin tutu
    And on her feet toe shoes;
    She smelled of sweet vanilla –
    Not of smoke and bread and stews.
    I loved my doll until it broke
    And then threw it away.
    What good is a dancing doll
    If it can’t tour jeté?
    My grandma’s doll, so precious,
    Has stood the test of time;
    She never went to dances
    But with Grandma she would climb
    The big old tree beside the house
    To make up wondrous tales,
    And then go wading in the stream
    To look for baby whales.
    My grandma’s doll upon my shelf
    Still dresses in humble style;
    And looking down at me from there
    I think she’s cracked a smile.

    ©2016, Donna JT Smith, all rights reserved

    Fuchsia covered buds
    stretch out in praise of morning
    revealing their sun-shined heart.

    (c) Charles Waters 2016

  6. Day 11

    She struggled
    to keep her face blank,

    The news
    made her shoulders tense,
    took her breath,

    blinded her.
    An unimaginable future
    stretched ahead.

    ©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015

    So…yeah. Where did THAT come from??? (Not sure…)

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Laura Shovan

Laura Shovan is the author of the award-winning middle grade novel, The Last Fifth Grade of Emerson Elementary. Her second book, Takedown, is a Junior Library Guild and PJ Our Way selection. Look for A Place at the Table, co-written with Saadia Faruqi, in 2020. Laura is a poet-in-the-schools Maryland.

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