sallymurphy.com.au

Sally Murphy, Australian author

Poetry Friday: Things to Do in 2018

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Things to Do in 2018

Flourish

Nourish

 

Thrive

Strive

 

Know

Grow

 

See

Be.

 

(Copyright Sally Murphy 2018)

As I mentioned earlier in the week, my focus word (or is it a guidance word?) for 2018, is Flourish. I want to flourish this year, and I want to help others flourish, and I want to do things with a flourish. So, what better way to start my Poetry Friday posts, than with a poem and a post about flourishing.

Interestingly, my first every Poetry Friday Post, three years ago was  a New Year post. Since I wrote that , I have been a regular part of Poetry Friday but not always consistent. Like many members, I have come and gone. Life has got in the way sometimes – so some of those periods of absence, I was busy flourishing, busy with career stuff. Other times, life was hard, and finding time for blogging took a back seat. But every time I got back to Friday posts, there were people there welcoming me back – commenting on my posts, or sharing wonderful things on their own blogs. And each time I’ve realised that I’m part of something big, a flourishing community of poets from around the world.

One special thing that the Poetry Friday community does is to organise poetry swaps. In these, participants are given a name (or two) and asked to send a poem to that person, via snail mail. My comings and goings have meant that I’ve never participated – I always seem to have missed the call outs.

Until the most recent two. At last, at the end of last year, I took part in the Winter Poem Swap. Of course, it isn’t winter in my part of the world, but that didn’t worry me. I duly sent a Christmas themed package off to my recipient, Keri, with a poem about the very fact that she was in cold and snow and I wasn’t, and some other goodies.  And then – hooray! – I received a package of my own, from the wonderful Irene Latham.

Here’s a picture of what was in the package:

The thought Irene had put into the package made me teary. She used my new profile picture as an inspiration for the poem:

Kaleidoscope Poem

(for Sally)

with a simple twist

of syllables

 

a new world

twirls into focus,

 

sets hearts a-whirl

in a blur

 

of ever-changing

light.

 

(Copyright Irene Latham)

 

Isn’t that awesome? The significance of the pouch is also special. Irene had read my posts about ‘old’ poems and poem-hoarding (which so many in the poetry Friday community related to), so she sent me a pocket in which to hoard my poems. I plan to fill it with tiny poems, starting with the poem-stone. I also plan to fill the notebook with poems, of course!

Thanks so much Irene. This is why I am part of the Poetry Friday community – not for the gifts, but for the friendships which flourish!  I have the gift on my desk and every time I see it, I am reminded of the magic way that poetry brings us together.

The second exchange which I’m participating in is the New Year Postcard exchange. This time, it’s a poetry postcard. I wrote my ten cards on New Year’s Day, and they’ve been sent off across the seas (or the skies, really, since that’s how they’ll travel), connecting me with ten other Poetry Friday members again through poetry.  And, as cards start to arrive in my mail box (I’m watching it eagerly!), I’ll be reminded again that friendships flourish through poetry.

So, I look forward to being a more regular contributor to Poetry Friday this year (I’ll even be hosting the round up for the first time in February). It’s become an important part of my identity as a children’s poet – and, though I’ve only ever met two of the other members in person (yes, there are two other Aussies!) – it’s the friendships that make it so special.

I hope you’ll flourish with me in 2018. Happy New Year!  For more Poetry goodness, check out the other Poetry Friday posts. This week’s round-up is at Reading to the Core, where, coincidentally, Irene’s new book is also featured.

 

 

 

 

Poetry Friday: An Aussie Christmas Song

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Another Aussie Christmas offering this week. There’s a few very Aussie words in this one, so it will be interesting to see if it’s understandable to my Northern hemisphere poetry friends. Let me know if there’s anything you don’t get!

A Christmas Song

We sing of jingle bells and snow,

of warm red suits and ho ho ho;

but none of this is quite the way

when it is Christmas here below.

Downunder in good old Aussieland

it’s time for sun and surf and sand.

It’s hot, not cold, it’s summertime

and summer treats are in demand.

Hard work for reindeer in this heat.

Hot roofs would burn their tender feet

and racing through the summer skies

would surely leave them feeling beat.

And as for Santa in fur and such:

he’d soon feel overdressed a touch.

Being snug and warm in blistering heat

is not going to impress him much.

He also needs roos for the job

of sleigh-pulling – an Aussie mob

to get him moving all around

from Sydney town to Iron Knob.

His suit, too, needs an overthrow:

a new outfit, from head to toe.

Some boardies, singlet and some thongs

would seem to be the way to go.

So let’s not sing of snow and ice,

instead I’ll give you this advice:

roos, utes and summer are the go

for Christmas songs that sound real nice.

So ripper, bonza, beudy, strewth!

Though you might think my song uncouth

it’s true blue and it’s ridgy didge

to sing a song that tells the truth.

(Poem copyright Sally Murphy)

This week’s Poetry Friday roundup is being hosted by Steps and Staircases. Head over there to see what other poetry goodness is on offer this week.

Also, if you are looking for a quick Christmas craft activity, you can help your children make a a pair of Christmas antlers just like those Sage Cookson wears on the copy of my latest book. You can find printable pages, and instructions here.

Poetry Friday: Christmas is Coming

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It’s Poetry Friday and it’s also December 1, which is both the first day of Advent, and the first day of summer here in Australia.

So, although I keep thinking it’s ages till Christmas, I guess it is now officially close. It’s also a sign that the school year (which runs from February to December) is coming to a close, and in classrooms across the country, kids and teachers alike are looking forward to school finishing. With all that in mind, here’s a little poem about December – and Christmas – in Australia.

Christmas is Coming

Christmas is coming.Aussie Christmas

We’ve stopped learning stuff at school

except how to sing Jingle Bells

whilst standing straight and tall

so the folks can get good piccies

at speech night;

and how to get glitter to stick

to a polystyrene ball

to hang on the Chrissie tree;

and how to make a gazillion cards

one for Mum

one for Dad

and two for the grandmas;

and how to carry home

all those scrapbooks

and artworks

and dead textas

and how to concentrate

on all this

even though it’s 40 degrees

and our classroom isn’t airconditioned

and all we really think about

as that Christmas is coming.

 

(Poem copyright Sally Murphy)

 

Today’s Poetry Friday roundup is at A Reading Year. Head over there for lots more poetry goodness.

Poetry Friday: Poetry Poor No More

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Who would have thought that sharing one of my older poems would turn into a series of posts? Two weeks ago I shared The Newspaper, and talked a little about how older poems might still resonate even though aspects of them might age. The comments on this post, and a delightful poem about Poetry Hoarding became the subject of last week’s post. Again, lots of discussion ensued, and a comment by Linda Mitchell wouldn’t leave me alone. Linda said, in her comment, that she grew up ‘poetry poor’.

Ooooh. That phrase!  It would not leave me alone. Such a poetic turn of phrase to describe a sad lack of poetry experiences in her early years. Luckily, she is now surrounded by poetry. So, Linda, here’s a poem for you, inspired by that phrase.

 

For Linda

 

She was poetry poor   

No rhyme nor reason

Nor a single metaphor

 

Now she’s poetry rich

With pace and rhyme and rhythm

In perfect, harmonic pitch

 

Now she’s poetry wealthy

Her simile’s superb

Her cadence always healthy

 

Now she’s poetry wise

With onomatopoeia

And alliteration in her eyes.

 

(Poem copyright Sally Murphy, 2017)

As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts on poetry in general, and on what we can do as educators, poets, parents, to ensure children don’t grow up poetry poor.

This week’s Poetry Friday roundup is hosted by Carol at Carol’s Corner. Pop over there for a wealth of poetry links.

Poetry Friday: First Swim

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It’s Poetry Friday and, as the weather here starts to warm up, my thoughts have turned to swimming. I’m lucky enough to be able to swim all year round in my local heated pool, and I love that, but I really really love to swim in an outdoor pool or at the beach.

When I was growing up, we lived in the same street as the local pool. That was wonderful, but the pool was not heated, which meant that it was only open for about four months of the year. SO, it didn’t matter whether it was really warm enough, or whether the water had reached a decent temperature, on the first day the pool opened I was there. Today’s poem is about that experience, that feeling. I hope you like it.

First Swim

Not a swimming photo – since I couldn’t find one – but some flowery balls of sunshine from the garden to brighten your day, wherever you are.

Summer’s here

and I rejoice

to see the OPEN sign outside the pool.

Blue water beckons

and once I’ve paid

I dump my towel and rush

to greet my old friend.

SPLASH!

Bliss bubbles and bibbles

as I plunge into icy depths.

(Poem  and photo copyright Sally Murphy)

Do you love to swim? Or is there something else that you eagerly anticipate with the changing of the seasons? I’d love to hear about it.

Have a wonderful Friday. Today’s Poetry Friday roundup is hosted by Teacher Dance. Head over there to see what other poetry goodness has been shared on the blogosphere.

Poetry Friday: From the Ball of Fluff Under Your Bed

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It’s Poetry Friday and I am so glad to be posting for the second Friday in a row, following a big break. This week I was lucky enough to travel to Sydney, and to visit a wonderful school called St John Vianney’s  in the suburb of Doonside.

I was there to work with two wonderful year 5 classes, and we spent much of the day reading, writing and talking about poetry. The aim was to get them to have at least one poem drafted by the end of the day. But – amazingly – nearly every child had three poems drafted or started, and every child had two whole poems drafted. That is amazing work and left me filled with joy.

So today I thought I’d share one of my poems which I shared with the children in Doonside. I wanted to model how a free verse poem can be used to explore all kinds of topics, and to see how voice can dictate what we ‘see’ in a poem, but also how it is up to the reader to interact, and it is the reader’s experience of the poem whcih ultimately determines the poem’s reception.

I chose this poem  to use, with others, because when I wrote it I thought it was a bit-of-fun poem, but one of my university colleagues, when she read it, saw it as sad because of what it says about a child fearing their parent. She wasn’t wrong, and neither was I: every reader should be allowed to have their own response to what they read. This is an important lesson for poets to learn, whether they be in year 5 or hold a doctorate in poetry.

Amway, here’s the poem. I’d love to hear your response.

From the ball of fluff under your bed

I mean you no harm.

Honestly.

I did not even mean to be here,

brought into simple existence

by your refusal to keep

this part of your bedroom tidy.

Yet here I am,

lurking behind five odd socks

last week’s homework

and a mouldy apple core

(which I wish you’d remove).

Come midnight

I will not transform into a monster

and scare you witless

or drink your blood

or mutter and moan .

No, at midnight –

and at every other hour,

come to think of it –

I will continue to be

just a ball of fluff.

But heed this warning:

even a humble ball of fluff

knows that the time is coming

when you will shake with fear.

Yes – one day,

one day soon

your mother

(perhaps lured by the smell of that apple core)

will lift the edge of your bedspread

and see

the socks

the homework

the apple core

and me.

And then there will be trouble.

(Poem Copyright Sally Murphy)

Today’s Poetry Friday roundup is being hosted by Brenda at Friendly Fairy Tales. Brenda’s contribution is absolutely wonderful – and you might see, as you read it, that I was amazed we had both chosen unusual voices or narrators for our poems. Head over there to see what other poetry goodness is being shared in the blogosphere. Have a great Friday and a great week to come.