New Book, New Poem, New Project

It’s been a busy week on the blog. I don’t usually post this much! But here I am again, for Poetry Friday.

On Tuesday I shared a collage of pictures from my exciting mail day.

On Thursday I posted my line in the progressive poem. Irene has the next line on her blog, Live Your Poem – and she’s also collating this week’s Poetry Friday round-up.

Today I’m posting a double tetractys – only my second Antarctic poem (How is this so?!) and the first thing written on a new project I’m currently researching. (It’s just the tip of the iceberg!) This poem likely won’t make it into the project – but I’m testing the water (ice-cold!) and gaining some confidence to strike out on this new adventure.

hut

chink
of stone
on stone on
stone near stone on
stone on stone grey stone
stacked high like brick by balanced, cold, stone brick;
bleak stone walls rise from shale floor; upturned sledge
and planks form the roof;
ice winds bluster
as snow swirls
seal each
chink.

And … for my youngest son’s benefit, I’m also posting my first ‘real’ author pic. A number of years ago he declared I wasn’t a real author until I’d published five books. He’s trying to shift the goal posts now, but … I’m claiming!

Real Author. It sure has taken long enough!

My week’s been wonderful – and super-productive. Hope yours has, too!

After the Rain

Slipping in a little late in the day (night!) with my Poetry Friday post, inspired by my evening walk.

After the Rain

A relay,
      a medley,
a tag team,
      a chorus;
up the street,
around the block,
through the suburb
and across the town;
      after the rain,
before the weekend,
      after the heat,
before the sun sets,
      after a fine day,
before the next deluge;
humming
and droning,
whirring
and whining,
a buzz of mowers
      cuts a swathe through
luscious lengths of
green grassy
lawn.

© Kathryn Apel

Catherine is collecting the links for this week’s round-up, at Reading to the Core. She’s also reviewing ‘a spectacular gift to poetry lovers of all ages’. You’ll have to click across to read (and see) more. Thanks, Catherine!

Ode to a Toothpick

Thanks to Michelle Heidenrich Barnes and Helen Frost, today I am writing an ode to an ordinary object I know … too well. The poem is in response to Today’s Little Ditty’s monthly challenge, where Helen encouraged us to;

Choose an object (a seashell, a hairbrush, a bird nest, a rolling pin). Write five lines about the object, using a different sense in each line (sight, sound, touch, taste, smell). Then ask the object a question, listen for its answer, and write the question, the answer, or both.

Ode to a Toothpick

You made your point
with woody twangs,
divulging a taste of recent indulgences,
your slim figure never gaining an ounce.
Were you pining for the fragrance of the forest
when you planted your
slither of splinter deep in my gums
for near a week?

I’m sure I’m not the only one who has had a rather pointed jab from a toothpick…?

Today’s Poetry Friday is at Robyn Hood Black’s, Life on the Deckle Edge. Definitely worth a visit! Thanks, Robyn.

I Don’t Eat My Friends!

friends

My next verse novel is going to the printers on Monday (Yay!) so I thought I’d share a poem from that in celebration of Poetry Friday and all things wonderful… like friends!

I Don’t Eat My Friends!

The kids
in my class
are like a jumbo pack of 
assorted party lollies –
they’re all different,
but I like them 
                all.

(I don’t eat my friends!)

Some kids
talk a lot;
others
tell funny jokes.
Some kids 
ask questions
and listen lots;
others
ask questions 
and don’t listen at all.
Some kids are bossy
(sometimes too bossy!);
others like
to be told
       what to do –
want you to do it 
       for them.
Some kids are quiet
and always there;
others are quiet 
and always alone.

All my classmates are different, 

but that’s the best thing
about
      friends …
                and lollies.


© Kathryn Apel

I’m so thankful for the many beautiful friends who sweeten my life, including the wonderful Poetry Friday peeps, who feed my love of words in verse. Thanks to Karen-consumer-of-coffee for hosting us this week and collecting the links at karenedmisten.blogspot.com.au.

‘Too Many Friends’ will be published by UQP in May 2017, and I canNOT wait to share it!

Like Penguins on a Pebbled Cliff

Those Distant Things

Not flying fish,
swimming seals,
dabbling ducks,
or water bugs,
not orca fins,
boulders,
pebbles,
or my imagination,
but penguins;
  porpoising,
    paddling,
      plunging,
        posturing,
          primping,
            plumping
              penguins!

penguins02

Those grey boulders, at the feet of the penguins (top left) are not boulders, but bubbas.

To read more poetry this simmering summer day, pop across and visit Katie at The Logonauts.

It Pays to Play – Classroom Shop

Education is constantly changing. Sometimes I worry about the creativity lost in the clutter of Curriculum.  Play-based learning enriches vocabulary and fires little minds to explore and create, as children learn (and understand) by doing. When investing in a child’s education, it pays to play!

 

It Pays to Play

Where is the classroom shop;
where kids can stop
to pay their dues;
where purses bulge with
silver and gold
and notes that fold
for kids to hold;  Continue reading

Grandma’s Pikelets

I tried off and on for 8 years to write a pikelet poem for my Grandma. It was initially intended for her 90th birthday*, because she was the queen of pikelets. Sadly, the words didn’t fall into place until the day after she slipped quietly away, aged 97 – when I let go of the rhyming stanzas I’d persisted with throughout the years, and let heart and memories shape the poem.

I would have liked to share the pikelet poem with Grandma… but perhaps the memories and emotions it stirred were felt more by those of us she left behind.KatApel_Grandma's Pikelets

Pearl Poem - blog

* Not a pikelet poem, but a Pearl, for Grandma’s 90th Birthday.

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Presenting ‘Grandma’s Pikelets’ at her funeral (with the help of a cousin, who read the recipe portions) was one of the more challenging things I’ve done, given that it followed a eulogy beautifully written and tearfully presented by my Dad, with his brother. The funeral was heartfelt, personal – often funny – and very beautiful, honouring a life lived loyally, devoted to family and God.