by Nelda Dishman
The trees share their shade with
all who pass by,
But their leaves whisper secrets
only to the wind.
from The Family Read-Aloud Holiday Treasury
selected by Alice Low, illustrated by Marc Brown
Little, Brown and Company, 1991Monday, April 28, 2025
Monday, April 21, 2025
Blow-up (Monday Poem)
by X. J. Kennedy
Our cherry tree
Unfolds whole loads
Of pink-white bloom--
It just explodes.
For three short days
Its petals last.
Oh, what a waste.
But what a blast.
from The Family Read-Aloud Holiday Treasury
selected by Alice Low, illustrated by Marc Brown
Little, Brown and Company, 1991 Monday, April 14, 2025
Perhaps the World Ends Here (Monday Poem)
by Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. The scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
from
How We Became Human: New and Selected Poems: 1975-2001
by Joy Harjo
W. W. Norton & Company, 2002
Monday, April 7, 2025
Promise of Blue Horses (Monday Poem)
by Joy Harjo
A blue horse turns into a streak of lightning,
then the sun ----
relating the difference between sadness
and the need to praise
that which makes us joyful. I can't calculate
how the earth tips hungrily
toward the sun---then soaks up rain---or the density
of this unbearable need
to be next to you. It's a palpable thing---this earth philosophy
and familiar in the dark
like your skin under my hand. We are a small earth. It's no
simple thing. Eventually
we will be dust together, can be used to make a house, to stop
a flood or grow food
for those who will never remember who we were, or know
that we loved fiercely.
Laughter and sadness eventually become the same song turning us
toward the nearest star---
a star constructed of eternity and elements of dust barely visible
in the twilight as you travel
east. I run with the blue horses of electricity who surround
the heart
and imagine a promise made when no promise was possible.
from How We Became Human: New and Selected Poems: 1975-2001
by Joy Harjo
W. W. Norton & Company, 2002
Monday, March 31, 2025
"Scientists find universe awash in tiny diamonds"* (Monday Poem)
by Pat Mayne Ellis
But haven't we always known?
The shimmer of trees, the shaking of flames
every cloud lined with something
clean water sings
right to the belly
scouring us with its purity
it too is awash with diamonds
"so small that trillions could rest
on the head of a pin"
Is it not unwise then to say
that the air is hung close with diamonds
that we breathe diamond
our lungs hoarding, exchanging
our blood sowing them rich and thick
along every course it takes
Does this explain
why some of us are so hard
why some of us shine
why we are all precious
that we are awash in creation
spumed with diamonds
shot through with beauty
that survived the death of stars
*quotations found in a newspaper clipping on the subject
from Cries of the Spirit: A Celebration of Women's Spirituality
edited by Marilyn Sewell
Beacon 1991 Monday, March 24, 2025
Buckingham Palace (Monday Poem)
by A. A. Milne
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace--
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
Alice is marrying one of the guard.
"A soldier's life is terrible hard,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace--
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We saw a guard in a sentry box.
"One of the sergeants looks after their socks."
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace--
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We looked for the King, but he never came.
"Well, God take care of him, all the same,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace--
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
They've great big parties inside the grounds.
"I wouldn't be King for a hundred pounds,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace--
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
A face looked out, but it wasn't the King's.
"He's much too busy a-signing things,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace--
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
"Do you think the King knows all about me?"
"Sure to, dear, but it's time for tea,"
Says Alice.
from When We Were Very Young,
by A. A. Milne
Dell 1972
Monday, March 17, 2025
Silver (Monday Poem)
by Walter de la Mare
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.
from Poetry by Heart: A Child's Book of Poems to Remember
compiled by Liz Attenborough
Scholastic 2001
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