Thursday, October 8, 2015

Monday's Poem: Gathering Words


I'm gathering everything
from everywhere I've been--
last week's slide,
last week's swing,
and the song
in the rocker
that grandma sings.

I'm gathering everything
from everywhere I've been--
inside school,
inside books,
inside words
from the people
in my neighborhood.

I'm writing everything
from everywhere I've been--
in my stories,
in my poems,
in the wonder
and the words
that gather up in me.

                         Anne Knowles

Monday, August 10, 2015

Monday's Poem: Family Stories


Some stories float in air
and slip in on the wind.
Listen to the words whispering.

Auntie's curtain fire
and the supper's startled surprise
and the cousin's screams
and then...
and then...
Uncle's mug of root beer
tossed just right
and just in time
and the cousins' claps
and the cousins' laughs
and the found
frightened cat.

Goblin spelling tests
in the one room school
that twisted Grandpa's
tummy in wicked knots
and then...
and then...
his times table
gobbled up and memorized
in one wizardly week.

Mama's first shiny dime
on her first day of school
that lost itself
and lost lunch, too
and tears and tears
and then...
and then...
a shared sandwich
and a new friend
who lived around the corner
and who grew up
to marry Uncle,
a brave man
who put out the curtain fire
with well-tossed
root beer.

Some stories float in air
and slip in on the wind.
Old stories.
Told stories.
Listen well and hold them.

                                Anne Knowles

Monday, May 11, 2015

Monday's Poem: Inside Outside Air

Inside Outside Air

Air is bouncing,
bouncing in air,
inside a bubble,
bouncing up there.

Air is floating,
floating in air,
inside a bubble,
floating up there.

Air is soaring,
soaring in air,
inside a bubble,
soaring up there.

Soapy, soapy bubbles,
cuddling inside air,
bouncing, floating, soaring,
in outside air up there.

                               Anne Knowles

Monday, May 4, 2015

Monday's Poem: A Book Comes Knocking

A Book Comes Knocking

Someone was knocking,
knock, knock on my door.
Then, in walked a book
and sat on the floor.

"Come join me," it said,
"and open me please."
I opened its pages.
Oh! What did I see?

Page after page,
but nothing was written,
not huff, not puff,
not mitten, or kitten.

Not Goldi, not locks,
not pokey pup paws,
not tailor, not duckling,
not Potter, or Oz.

"Write me a story,"
the book sadly said.
"Help fill me all up
with words from your head.

Start Over the hill,
or A long time ago.
Start Under the oak tree
or Up where there's snow."

So I told a story,
and each word that I said,
danced straight to the page
from inside of my head.

I finished with happily
ever and after,
and you should have heard
the book and its laughter.

                                   Anne Knowles

Monday, April 20, 2015

Monday's Poem: If I Don't Have a Ball

If I Don't Have a Ball

I crinkle a paper
and that's not all.
I squish it;
I squash it;
A round, tight ball.

I kick it; it rolls
straight through the hole:
Chair legs;
Wide legs;
One for me! Goal!

                       Anne Knowles

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Tuesday's Poem: Up and Down

Down and Up

Touch knees is down.
Touch feet is down.
Touch ground
is reach
way down.

Hop hop is up.
Jump high is up.
Touch sky
is reach
way up.

Mouth goes down
mouth goes up.
Frowns go down
smiles go up.

Touch knees.
Touch feet.
Touch ground.
Hop hop.

Jump high.
Touch sky
and smile,

                          Anne Knowles

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Tuesday's Poem: Tall People Talk

Words, Words, Words

Tall people talk
Not very clear;
Yiklety yaklety
Fills up my ears.

I'm way down here;
Talk's way up there.
Peoplety talklety
Fills up the air.

                       Anne Knowles