NPM 2015: What Are You Wearing, Jone MacCulloch?

It's the second Friday of National Poetry Month, 2015. Are you feeling the poetry  love?

Mention a synonym for "pink" in the comments
and you might win today's giveaway:
This hand-knitted scarf. It has sequins!

This week's round-up is at Laura Purdie Salas' blog, Writing the World for Kids. Jama Rattigan has a list of kids' lit National Poetry Month projects and celebrations at Alphabet Soup.

All this month, guest bloggers are putting on their finery here at Author Amok. We're doing a month-long feature on poetry about clothes. In addition to the guest posts, every Friday in April I'll post a round-up of original and recommended clothing poems. (Send those via email to laurashovan at gmail dot com or leave them in the comments). You'll find a weekly writing prompt at the bottom of this post.

Meet today's guest blogger, poet Jone MacCulloch of the blog Check It Out.

Thanks for having me today, Laura. I am so glad for this topic for National Poetry Month.

One of my favorite people growing up was Grandma Mac. Even though she lived in New Jersey, she visited us in California every summer and Christmas. Sometimes I wish that I had been more open to learning things she wanted to teach me such as tatting.

L to R: Grandpa Mac, Grandma Mac, and male relative

I inherited several of Grandma Mac’s aprons and still have the one she sewed for me with a left handed pocket and my name in French knots. (She was able to teach me that stitch and others).

AuthorAmok says: That Jersey Girl had style.
The knotted letters are like
a love note from Grandma Mac.

After her daughter’s death in 2011, I received Grandma Mac’s journal.  It’s evident by her entries that sewing and embroidery were things she loved.  Here’s her journal entry for January 24, 1916: 

An excerpt from Grandma Mac's journal.
"Another pretty day..."

I went looking for a poem about aprons and found this:

Grandma's Apron

I don't think our kids know what an apron is.

The principal use of Grandma's apron was to protect the dress underneath, because she only had a few, it was easier to wash aprons than dresses and they used less material, but along with that, it served as a potholder for removing hot pans from the oven.

It was wonderful for drying children's tears, and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears…

From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven.

When company came, those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids.

And when the weather was cold grandma wrapped it around her arms.

Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove.

Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron.

From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables.

After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls.

In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees.

When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds.

When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out onto the porch, waved her apron, and the men-folk knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner.

It will be a long time before someone invents something that will replace that 'old-time apron' that served so many purposes.

REMEMBER:

Grandma used to set her hot baked apple pies on the window sill to cool.

Her granddaughters set theirs on the window sill to thaw.

They would go crazy now trying to figure out how many germs were on that apron.

I never caught anything from an apron…But Love.

(Author Unknown)

What’s interesting about this poem is the history.  Although it says that the author is unknown, there is a correction stating that Tina Trivett actually wrote the poem.

And then, there’s this web page with the same poem but slightly revised.

Aprons?  Do you wear them?  I still do. Especially the one in the middle, pictured here.

Jone Rush MacCulloch: is a teacher-librarian during the school year and a blogger, poet, and writer the rest of the time.  Her passion for poetry is shared with students in her after school club, Poetry Rocks: Performance Poetry Group.

Jone is published in the newest Poetry Friday Anthology: Celebrations as well as in a couple of haiku publications.  She is currently working on a middle grade novel in verse.

Outside of school and writing, she likes to take road trips her husband, two dachshunds, and be with family.  She usually has a camera, pen, and notebook in hand.  Find her at Deowriter, Check It Out, or @JoneMac.

Thanks for this wonderful post, Jone. A few years ago, my mother bought my daughter and me matching pink aprons with an adorable cupcake print. They are almost too pretty to wear.

ICYMI: In this series...

Introductory Post

Jane Elkin looks in her childhood closet. Poems by Mark Irwin and Ron Koertge.

Tabatha Yeatts shares an ensemble of clothing poems by Greg Pincus.

Robyn Hood Black borrows Alice Schertle's "Hand-me-down Sweatshirt."

*Your suggested clothing poem prompt for Friday, April 10: Shoes.

On the practical level, they protect our feet from lumps and bumps. But shoes can be engineered for running, biking, or dance. They can be impractical works of art, colorful and sky-high. What does a pair of shoes say about the wearer?

Send your poems any time. I'll post original work and recommended poems on Fridays.

Try this on for size ... recommended clothing poems.

A red dress, in "The Cure," by Ginger Andrews. Recommended by Diane Mayr.

Tabatha Yeatts suggests we try wearing a poem: "I Leave Bits of Me Everywhere," by Karen Swank-Fitch

Here's a wardrobe to keep our clothing poems in. Parrish Lantern recommends another poem by French author Valerie Rouzeau.

And listen to the warm words of "This Shirt" by Mary Chapin Carpenter. Recommended by Renee the Tulip.

Source Poems: "We Are Waiting (a pantoum)"

For National Poetry Month 2014, I have invited 17 authors and poets to guest post about source poems. In this series of essays, each writer will describe a single poem's significance in his or her life.

Today's guest blogger poet Jone MacCulloch. Jone blogs about being a K-5 librarian at Check it Out.

Jone MacCulloch

There were a lot of poets on my mind when I signed up to guest blog here. I could select Naomi Shihab Nye or William Stafford or William Carlos Williams (already featured). Each one has influenced my writing. However, one poet is responsible for teaching me the following poetry form.

Whenever I write a poem using the pantuom form, I am thankful for Joyce Sidman's book Butterfly Eyes and Other Secrets of the Meadow. [What is a pantoum?]

"We Are Waiting (a pantuom)" was tucked into the back half of this book which I was reading as a judge for the CYBILS Poetry Award in 2006. (Read about it here.) This poetry form is also found in Joyce’s book This is Just to Say.

We Are Waiting (a pantuom)

By Joyce Sidman

Our time will come again,

Say the patient ones.

Now is meadow,

But not for long.

Say the patient ones:

Sunlight dazzles,

but not for long.

Seedlings grow amongst the grass.

Sunlight dazzles,

and the meadow voles dance,

but seedlings grow amongst the grass.

Forest will return.

Meadow voles dance,

where once was fire,

but forest will return.

We wait patiently.

Once was fire,

Now is meadow.

We wait patiently.

Our time will come again.

What are we?

I read and reread this poem. Its musicality captivates me. It feels like a call and response in the simple complexity of repeating lines. I love the weaving of the lines, a tapestry of words. There's a story here. Something has happened in what was once the forest.

"We Are Waiting" is a perfect source poem for close reading with students. Asking them what they notice about the poems and its structure provides great discussions. Sidman's website is an excellent resource for all poetry aficionados.

Sidman's poem mentors me. Rereading this poem is important to my process of writing a pantuom. While I've not memorized this poem (or many others, as I hate memorizing), the cadence of this poem is with me. Sidman suggests to begin with a topic that's a passion for you. I write down several phrases about the topic. Then like a jigsaw puzzle, I arrange the lines, fitting them together. It's a time to play around with the line order.

For my response to "We Are Waiting" I borrowed the first line of Joyce’s  poem and a few other words.

I love what happens in spring. In February, when we had snow, there were the daffodils emerging in my front flower box. They are followed by the pink tulips. And there’s nothing better than listening to the arrival of the robins, a harbinger of spring days.

Jone's daffodils are eager for spring.

Spring

By Jone MacCulloch

Our time will come again,

say the emerging daffodils

in the dazzle of the sun

as pink calypso tulips bloom.

Say the emerging daffodils:

Our time is brief

as pink calypso tulips bloom

during spring's first rain.

Our time is brief,

sing the robins

during spring's first rain

while worms wriggle in the grass.

Sing the robins,

We'll be back

while worms wriggle in the grass

nectar awaits the first arrival of bees.

We'll be back

in the dazzle of the sun

nectar awaits the first arrival of bees.

Our time will come.

© 2014 Jone Rush MacCulloch 

Joyce Sidman

Jone is a teacher-librarian during the school year, who writes, reads, and blogs (personal blog, Deowriter and school blog Check It Out) the rest of the time. She’d rather write poetry than memorize it. She has had haiku published in Acorn; A Journal of Contemporary Haiku and the Haiku Society of American Members' Anthology. In 2012, she self-published a small collection of poetry and photography, Solace in Nature, and is currently working on a novel in verse. Helping with SCBWI-OR book sales is one way Jone gives back to a great writing community. You can follow Jone on Twitter @JoneMac53.

Previous posts in this series:

Laura Shovan on "This Is Just to Say" by William Carlos Williams

Dylan Bargteil on "On Moral Leadership as a Political Dilemma" by June Jordan

J. C. Elkin on "Hannibal Clim" (author unknown)

Diane Mayr on a haiku by Basho