Poetry Wednesday, Vol. 93 (It's back, you lucky people!)

Just a few moments ago I finished preparing my lesson for Wednesday's Co-op.  I will be teaching the older kids tomorrow, and it kind of scares me.  I know what to do with pre-schoolers.  If it can't be fixed with a snack or a visit to the playground or the bathroom, then it can't be fixed.  Same goes for lower elementary.  But upper elementary?  Thirteen year olds?  Gulp, sixteen year olds?  I just don't know.

My lesson will be on.......   you guessed it, poetry.  This week's lesson in Story of the World is partly on the Crimean War.  The Charge of the Light Brigade came out of this war.  Fascinating stuff.  In my wanderings online, trying to figure out just what I would teach these children, I came across a recording of an original soldier in the war playing his bugle.  I found very exciting resources on Lord Tennyson.  And I found this.  A good argument for why poetry is necessary, even today.  Go and read, I'll wait.

All this to say we are back.  Poetry Wednesday will begin again.  It would be lovely if you could join in.

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This last week has been a busy one.  Between school, school prep, co-op, various classes, and how do we fit meal time and grocery shopping into the schedule?, it has been busy.  I find it nice, necessary, even, to rest.  In order to accomplish what must be done I need to do something frivolous.  Sit and read a book.  Take a nap with Del.  Peruse Pinterest a little longer than necessary.  

The pleasures are as much a part of our every day as the work.  As necessary as the work, I would argue.  For that reason I am making time for friends.  I am reading inane superhero books to little boys. I am starting the next Game of Thrones book, even though it is much too long.  I may or may not be starting it before I start the book club book.  But I've already read that book, it's just review at this point.  We are heading to the beach/park/museum.  All worthwhile.  

What small moments of sunlight are you enjoying this week? 

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The Word
by Tony Hoagland

Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,

between "green thread"
and "broccoli," you find
that you have penciled "sunlight."

Resting on the page, the word
is beautiful. It touches you
as if you had a friend

and sunlight were a present
he had sent from someplace distant
as this morning—to cheer you up,

and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing

that also needs accomplishing.
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds

of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder

or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
without a clue,

but today you get a telegram
from the heart in exile,
proclaiming that the kingdom

still exists,
the king and queen alive,
still speaking to their children,

—to any one among them
who can find the time
to sit out in the sun and listen.