by Marilyn Singer
This kitchen
is
your laboratory:
combining
molecules,
forming
crystals,
growing
good microbes.
Pickling
cucumbers.
Cool!
Assembling
rock candy.
Sweet!
Scrambling
eggs.
Fresh!
What's cooking?
Science!
Science,
what's cooking?
Fresh
eggs
scrambling.
Sweeet
rock candy
assembling.
Cool
cucumbers
pickling.
Good microbes
growing.
Crystals
forming.
Molecules
combining.
Your laboratory
is
this kitchen!
from Follow the Recipe: Poems About Imagination, Celebration & Cake
by Marilyn Singer, illustrated by Marjorie Priceman
Dial, 2020
Monday, March 16, 2020
Monday, March 9, 2020
recipe for following recipes (Monday Poem)
by Marilyn Singer
Sometimes you must follow things strictly word for word.
Sometimes it's more lively if you improvise.
The tried and true may sometimes be exactly what's preferred.
Sometimes you must do it strictly word for word.
Tuna fish and caramel would surely be absurd.
But sweet potato pizza? And excellent surprise!
Sometimes you must follow things strictly word for word.
Sometimes it's more lively if you imrovise.
from Follow the Recipe: Poems About Imagination, Celebration & Cake
by Marilyn Singer, illustrated by Marjorie Priceman
Dial, 2020
Sometimes you must follow things strictly word for word.
Sometimes it's more lively if you improvise.
The tried and true may sometimes be exactly what's preferred.
Sometimes you must do it strictly word for word.
Tuna fish and caramel would surely be absurd.
But sweet potato pizza? And excellent surprise!
Sometimes you must follow things strictly word for word.
Sometimes it's more lively if you imrovise.
from Follow the Recipe: Poems About Imagination, Celebration & Cake
by Marilyn Singer, illustrated by Marjorie Priceman
Dial, 2020
Monday, March 2, 2020
recipe for success in cooking (Monday Poem)
by Marilyn Singer
Crack your eggs when you're happy.
Beat them well when you're glad.
Melt your butter in a saucepan.
Take your eggs and gently add.
Stir them slowly till they're scrambled.
Serve them to your mom and dad.
Things taste best when you are cheerful.
Never cook when you are mad.
from Follow the Recipe: Poems About Imagination, Celebration & Cake
by Marilyn Singer, illustrated by Marjorie Priceman
Dial, 2020
Crack your eggs when you're happy.
Beat them well when you're glad.
Melt your butter in a saucepan.
Take your eggs and gently add.
Stir them slowly till they're scrambled.
Serve them to your mom and dad.
Things taste best when you are cheerful.
Never cook when you are mad.
from Follow the Recipe: Poems About Imagination, Celebration & Cake
by Marilyn Singer, illustrated by Marjorie Priceman
Dial, 2020
Monday, February 24, 2020
If Once You Have Slept on an Island (Monday Poem)
by Rachel Field
If once you have slept on an island
You'll never be quite the same;
You may look as you looked the day before
And go by the same old name,
You may bustle about in street and shop'
You may sit at home and sew,
But you'll see blue water and wheeling gulls
Wherever your feet may go.
You may chat with the neighbors of this and that
And close to your fire keep,
But you'll hear ship whistle and lighthouse belll
And tides beat through your sleep.
Oh, you won't know why, and you can't say how
Such change upon you came,
But -- once you have slept on an island
You'll never be quite the same!
from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018
If once you have slept on an island
You'll never be quite the same;
You may look as you looked the day before
And go by the same old name,
You may bustle about in street and shop'
You may sit at home and sew,
But you'll see blue water and wheeling gulls
Wherever your feet may go.
You may chat with the neighbors of this and that
And close to your fire keep,
But you'll hear ship whistle and lighthouse belll
And tides beat through your sleep.
Oh, you won't know why, and you can't say how
Such change upon you came,
But -- once you have slept on an island
You'll never be quite the same!
from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018
Monday, February 17, 2020
Shell (Monday Poem)
by Ted Hughes
The sea fills my ear
With sand and with fear.
You may wash out the sand
But never the sound
Of the ghost of the sea
That is haunting me.
from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018
The sea fills my ear
With sand and with fear.
You may wash out the sand
But never the sound
Of the ghost of the sea
That is haunting me.
from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018
Monday, February 10, 2020
That's What We'd Do (Monday Poem)
by Mary Mapes Dodge
If you were an owl,
And I were an owl,
And this were a tree,
And the moon came out,
I know what we'd do.
We would stand, we two,
On a bough of the tree;
You'd wink at me,
And I'd wind at you;
That's what we'd do,
Beyond a doubt.
I'd give you a rose
For your lovely nose,
And you'd look at me
Without turning about.
I know what we'd do
(That is, I and you);
Why, you'd sing to me,
And I'd sing to you;
That's what we'd do,
When the moon came out.
from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018
If you were an owl,
And I were an owl,
And this were a tree,
And the moon came out,
I know what we'd do.
We would stand, we two,
On a bough of the tree;
You'd wink at me,
And I'd wind at you;
That's what we'd do,
Beyond a doubt.
I'd give you a rose
For your lovely nose,
And you'd look at me
Without turning about.
I know what we'd do
(That is, I and you);
Why, you'd sing to me,
And I'd sing to you;
That's what we'd do,
When the moon came out.
from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018
Monday, February 3, 2020
Wintry Wind-Whipped Waves (Monday Poem)
Anonymous
Over wintry wind-whipped waves
The white-winged seagulls wildly sweep;
Weaving, winding, wheeling, whistling,
Where the wide waste waters weep.
from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018
Over wintry wind-whipped waves
The white-winged seagulls wildly sweep;
Weaving, winding, wheeling, whistling,
Where the wide waste waters weep.
from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018
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