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This month, my poetry sisters and I were tackling triolets. A triolet is a short poem of just eight lines, rhymed ABaAabAB, where the capital letters are repeated lines. Basically, once you've written the first two lines, you only have three more to go (the lower case lines). Triolets were originally devotional poems, and then became popular as comedic forms, but they can be used for lots of things, serious topics included. There's no real fixed metre for triolets, although a lot of people use iambic tetrameter (four iambs per line, taDUM taDUM taDUM taDUM).

Liz Garton Scanlon picked the form, and said we needed to use at least two from the following list of words in our poems: orange, fall, chill, light, change

As you can se below, I used three: light, fall, and chill.

The glow of leaves in yellow light—
the amber glow of sun in fall—
is swallowed as day turns to night.
The glow of leaves in yellow light
when crisp chill wind sets them in flight
enchants. In winter, I’ll recall
the glow of leaves in yellow light,
the amber glow of sun in fall.

You can find the poems of my poetry sisters at their blogs. You can find the rest of this week's Poetry Friday posts by clicking the box below.

Laura Purdie Salas
Tanita Davis
Liz Garton Scanlon
Tricia Stohr-Hunt
Sara Lewis Holmes

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Late to the party, but at least I'm in attendance this month! This one is a poem from Fall . . .

My poetry sisters and I agreed to write a poem in hymn meter this month (think almost anything by Emily Dickinson, or Amazing Grace, or the Theme to Gilligan's Island, or the Yellow Rose of Texas). Here is mine.

I have a secret, said the Fall,
that nobody may know.
I whisper it through rustling leaves
that fall before the snow.

I know that it appears as if
death comes to growing things.
The truth is they are just asleep
and will awake in spring.

You can find the others' posts here:

Sara with If Apples Were Dappled and Sweet
Tricia with Autumn Song
Tanita with Keeping Emily's Sabbath
Liz with It Doesn't Feel Like Fall
Laura with An Old Dog in Autumn

Find the rest of the Poetry Friday posts by clicking the box below:

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Statues in the Park - a Poetry Friday post

My poetry sisters and I have our monthly poems up today. This month's challenge was to write any poem you want to the title "Statues in the Park", and I have to tell you that it didn't give me much guidance or speak to me in any particular way. I started thinking about various statues in various parks, and did online research where I found this cool sculpture park in Ireland called Victor's Way that has some really interesting statues that I'd love to see in person, but still . . . nada.

Which is when I remembered being young and playing a game with other kids in the park. And then this poem mostly wrote itself.

Statues in the Park
by Kelly Ramsdell

One with the power to stop,
one with the power to release,
all others quite willing
to stop when tagged,
to hold their position
as long as it took until they
were freed, or the game ended.

Who can forget freeze tag?
Who can remember
how to be released?

You can read the other poems here, which include further references to freeze tag (aka the "statue game") as well as to actual statues.


Find the rest of the Poetry Friday posts by clicking the box below:

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The good folks at :01 First Second were kind enough to send me a review copy of The Amazing Crafty Cat, a graphic novel for the younger set featuring (no, not a cat) a girl named Birdie who has a secret alter-ego (Crafty Cat). Birdie seems to me to be in about third grade (personality-wise), but has a locker at school, so I'm not so sure that's what's intended.

Birdie heads to school on her birthday with some pretty swell panda cupcakes, things go amiss, and she is left trying to figure out what to do with black olives and cottage cheese. Fortunately, her crafty alter-ego comes in handy and she teaches everyone a craft.

The graphic novel is set up cleanly so it's easy for younger kids who are not yet fluent in the format to read it and follow along, and is the first in a new series. It uses a simplified palette of black, white, grey, brown, and green. AND it comes with instructions for five different crafty projects at the back, complete with supply lists and diagrams, including four panda crafts (hair clip & necklace, pencil topper, cupcake decorations, and a "panda pal", plus alien &/or bunny puppets).

A great fit for elementary school libraries or classrooms, and for young kids looking for graphic novels but not ready for older content. (I'd put this at the same age range as Baby Mouse, if I had to make a guess.)

You can go to the publisher's website and check out a few of the interior spreads, but here is one that gives you an idea what the interior is like:

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Over at Guys Lit Wire: DECELERATE BLUE

My monthly book review for Guys Lit Wire is up today, and it's of the spectacular graphic novel, Decelerate Blue by Adam Rapp and Mike Cavallaro. It's basically a futuristic Romeo and Juliet retelling set in a hyperkinetic world and featuring a same-sex romance. The entire book is perfection, and a warning. Cannot rave about it enough.

Here's the start of my review:

There's an old English Beat song that ends "faster faster faster faster STOP (I'm dead)". (The name of the song is "I Just Can't Stop It", from an album of the same name.) It turns out to be almost a summary of this amazing dystopian graphic novel, Decelerate Blue, which is set in a hyperkinetic future. In that future, everyone has a chip in their arm and is constantly monitored by "Guarantee", which appears to be an industrial state entity of some sort. Chips are scanned all the time.

There is reference in the book to a novel by "Kent Van Gough", which appears to be a veiled reference to Kurt Vonnegut.

A must for all high-school and public libraries.

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When we were deciding on our themes for this year, I tossed out a poem in the style of George Gordon, Lord Byron's "She walks in beauty", which begins "She walks in beauty, like the night". You can read the original here. It's a short poem - three stanzas of six lines each - and was allegedly written after Byron attended a party and met his cousin there. She was, at the time, in mourning for her husband - hence "like the night". He made an awful lot of assumptions about her internal state based on her pulled-together, likely serene appearance.

My version addresses what might have been going on with her before and after the party:
She Walks on Eggshells
by Kelly Ramsdell


She walks on eggshells, tip-toeing
    her way through life, in hopes that none
will notice how she cannot bring
    herself to stand directly in the sun.
Her sole reward, a wedding ring
    that weighs her down so she can’t run.


One minute more in this black dress
    Is more, she thinks, than she can bear.
Her cousin’s smiles cause her distress—
    He is enough to make her swear,
Though not out loud, of course. Useless
    to be female, she’s well aware.


And now he’s published something new
    that raves about her peaceful mind,
her innocence. He has no clue
    that she is finally unconfined
by men: a widow, it is true,
    but one who cannot be divined.

You can find the poems by my poetry sisters at the following links:

Laura Purdie Salas with "She walks in glitter"
Sara Lewis Holmes with "Crede Byron"
Tanita Davis with "Daughters of Diogenese" &/or "Maat/Lady Justice"
Tricia Stohr-Hunt with an untitled poem about grief
Liz Garton Scanlon with "Mother Liberty"

Find the rest of the Poetry Friday posts by clicking the box below:

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Happy Independence Day!

Today, the first verse of "My Country, 'Tis of Thee", also known as "America" - written by Samuel Francis Smith in 1831 and used as a de facto American national anthem until the "Star Spangled Banner" was formally adopted in 1931.

My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrims' pride,
From ev'ry mountainside
Let freedom ring!

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Home again

My sweetheart and I got married in December. And we took our honeymoon at the end of May/beginning of June - three days in Venice, Italy, followed by a 7-night cruise in the Mediterranean. Our first stop was in Kotor, Montenegro. The next four were in Greece: Corfu/Kerkyra, Piraeus (with an excursion into Athens), Mykonos (where we took a ferry over to Delos as well), and Argostoli (on Kefalonia).

Here are a few photos.

Our afternoon trip to Burano, an island in Venezia that we got to by ferry. So pretty!

Me, in a selfie, as we were leaving Venice

Morris and me on the ramparts overlooking Kotor, Montenegro

Morris and me in front of the Parthenon, on the Acropolis of Athens

We have returned home slightly tanned, super happy, pretty tired, and with a penchant for Greek salad.

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An original golden shovel poem

For Poetry friday, my Poetry sisters and I are doing "golden shovel" poems, where you use lines or stanzas from an existing poem (grabbing a shovel full of gold from someone else). You use the words of a line (or lines) in the order given, as the end words of each line in your new poem.

We are all working from the wonderful "Pied Beauty" by Gerard Manley Hopkins. The Hopkins poem is a curtal sonnet using sprung rhythm - you can read about both in this prior post, but here is the whole, lovely source poem for our golden shovels.

Pied Beauty
by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Glory be to God for dappled things—
  For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
    For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
  Landscape plotted and pieced— fold, fallow, and plough;
    And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
  Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
    With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
        Praise him.

My lines are as follows:

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)

And here is my poem:

Oh love -- give me all
your heart! I do not want things--
not necklaces, not flowers for my counter-
tops. I much prefer the original
offer you made of kisses, of time to spare.
Keep singing me your strange,
familiar songs, whatever
may come. Our love is
bone-deep, bedrock, not fickle
or frivolous. Let me wake to freckled
shoulders, strong and sure. Who
would trade away a moment? Lord knows
we can fill them. Let me show you how.

I will add links and such a bit later, but please check the Poetry Friday lineup and find poems by Tricia Stohr-Hunt, Sara Lewis Holmes, Tanita Davis, Laura Purdie Salas, and Liz Garton Scanlon.

Laura wrote a gorgeous poem about a Syrian refugee.

Liz has written about a girl with a pony.

Tanita wrote TWO; one about lilies, the other about being made of star stuff (sort of). *swoon*

Tricia wrote a love poem for her anniversary.

Over at Guys Lit Wire

Today my review for Guys Lit Wire is up. This month, it's a review of the new graphic novel, SPILL ZONE, by Scott Westerfeld (yes, the same guy who wrote Uglies and Pretties).

Short version: It's great.
For the longer version, click here.

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