The meaning of poetry is to give courage. A poem is not a puzzle that you the dutiful reader are obliged to solve. It is meant to poke you, get you to buck up, pay attention, rise and shine, look alive, get a grip, get the picture, pull up your socks, wake up and die right. … But what really matters about poetry and what distinguishes poets from say, fashion models or ad salesmen, is the miracle of incantation in rendering the gravity and grace and beauty of the ordinary world and thereby lending courage to strangers. This is a necessary thing.
(from Garrison Keillor’s introduction to “Good Poems for Hard Times,” which is an entirely wonderful collection of poems that you should own.)
I thought that perhaps April was National Poetry Month because it’s the cruelest month and thereby the month in which our souls need the most bolstering. But I was wrong about that. According to Poets.org, the poetry powers that be chose April because it was the month when “poetry could be celebrated with the highest level of participation. … April seemed the best time within the year to turn attention toward the art of poetry — in an ultimate effort to encourage poetry readership year-round.”
I took a class in poetry writing in college, and every single poem I wrote was awful. Unreservedly awful. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson then, but I woke up in the wee hours last night and a poem was trying to write itself in my head. I didn’t wake up enough to write it down, but I can say with absolute certainty that it would also have been awful. (It was a conversation, and the last line was “And I said.” Best that I didn’t try to record it, I think.) Anyway, I’m glad that the world has people in it who are good and even great at writing poetry.
It is entirely possible that I was supposed to memorize a poem at some point in my academic history. I don’t remember such an event, though. I’m not sure if that’s because we weren’t required to do it or maybe I just didn’t comply. But I think memorization is good exercise for the brain, and I wanted the children to have a collection of great poetry on hand at a moment’s notice. So memorization and recitation have been and will be a big part of their educations.
We go over the poem Poppy is currently working to learn every day, and we review a few of the previously memorized poems each day, too. I use the Charlotte Mason memory system for keeping the poems organized. All you need is an index card box, some labels and a bunch of index cards (and also a pen). It takes a little time to set it up initially, but it’s very easy to use after that. So long as no small boys upend the box, thus requiring you to put it all back in order again. Simply Charlotte Mason has a very nice tutorial on setting the system up. The Poetry Foundation is my favorite online source for poetry. They have a wonderful search feature that allows you to narrow your search by subject, occasions or region, among other things. You can also filter any search by “poems that are good for children,” which is ridiculously helpful.
So what sort of poems is a 5-year-old capable of memorizing? Just about any of them, I think. Poppy’s memorized a few this year that I wasn’t sure she’d be able to do because of length or lack of regular rhythm or rhyme, but she surprised me every time. Some of them have taken a few weeks, but she’s memorized every poem that I’ve given her. She has 7 weeks of kindergarten left, and I’ll probably have her memorize at least 4 or 5 more poems by the end of the year. But here’s what she’s memorized thus far:
- The Purple Cow
by Gelett Burgess - I never saw a purple cow,
I never hope to see one,
but I can tell you anyhow
I’d rather see than be one. - Fly Away, Fly Away Over the Sea
by Christina Rossetti - Fly away, fly away over the sea,
Sun-loving swallow, for summer is done;
Come again, come again, come back to me,
Bringing the summer and bringing the sun. - There Was a Little Girl
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid. - A Leaf
by Aileen Fisher - If I were a leaf
(but I wouldn’t be)
I’d have to be tied
to a tree, tree, tree.
I couldn’t walk off
(or skip or run)
and my nose would get burned
by the sun, sun, sun.
In summer I’d roast,
(in winter I’d freeze)
and all through October
I’d sneeze, sneeze, sneeze. - Autumn Fires
by Robert Louis Stevenson - In the other gardens
And all up the vale,
From the autumn bonfires
See the smoke trail!Pleasant summer over
And all the summer flowers,
The red fire blazes,
The grey smoke towers.Sing a song of seasons!
Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
Fires in the fall! - The Cat of Cats
by William Brighty Rands - I am the cat of cats. I am
The everlasting cat!
Cunning, and old, and sleek as jam,
The everlasting cat!
I hunt vermin in the night-
The everlasting cat!
For I see best without the light-
The everlasting cat! - The Window
by Walter de la Mare - Behind the blinds I sit and watch
The people passing – passing by;
And not a single one can see
My tiny watching eye.They cannot see my little room,
All yellowed with the shaded sun;
They do not even know I’m here;
Nor’ll guess when I am gone. - We Thank Thee
by Ralph Waldo Emerson - For flowers that bloom about our feet;
For tender grass, so fresh, so sweet;
For song of bird, and hum of bee;
For all things fair we hear or see,
Father in heaven, we thank Thee.For blue of stream and blue of sky;
For pleasant shade of branches high;
For fragrant air and cooling breeze;
For beauty of the blooming trees,
Father in heaven, we thank Thee. - Dust of Snow
by Robert Frost - The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock treeHas given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued. - Eletelephony
by Laura E. Richards - Once there was an elephant,
Who tried to use the telephant-
No! No! I mean an elephone
Who tried to use the telephone-
(Dear me! I am not certain quite
That even now I’ve got it right.)Howe’er it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk;
The more he tried to get it free,
The louder buzzed the telephee-
(I fear I’d better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong!) - A Calendar
by Sara Coleridge - January brings the snow,
Makes our feet and fingers glow.February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.March brings breezes, loud and shrill,
To stir the dancing daffodil.April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daisies at our feet.May brings flocks of pretty lambs
Skipping by their fleecy dams.June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children’s hands with posies.Hot July brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gillyflowers.August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.Warm September brings the fruit;
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.Fresh October brings the pheasant;
Then to gather nuts is pleasant.Dull November brings the blast;
Then the leaves are whirling fast.Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat. - Certainty
by Emily Dickinson - I never saw a moor,
I never saw the sea;
Yet know I how the heather looks,
And what a wave must be.I never spoke with God,
Nor visited in heaven;
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the chart were given. - Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost - Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep. - The Falling Star
by Sara Teasdale. - I saw a star slide down the sky,
Blinding the north as it went by,
Too burning and too quick to hold,
Too lovely to be bought or sold,
Good only to make wishes on
And then forever to be gone. - Fog
by Carl Sandburg - The fog comes
on little cat feet.It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on. - Today
by Billy Collins - If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
so uplifted by a warm intermittent breezethat it made you want to throw
open all the windows in the houseand unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,
indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,a day when the cool brick paths
and the garden bursting with peoniesseemed so etched in sunlight
that you felt like takinga hammer to the glass paperweight
on the living room end table,releasing the inhabitants
from their snow-covered cottageso they could walk out,
holding hands and squintinginto this larger dome of blue and white,
well, today is just that kind of day. - Spring
by Karla Kuskin - I’m shouting
I’m singing
I’m swinging through trees
I’m winging skyhigh
With the buzzing black bees.
I’m the sun
I’m the moon
I’m the dew on the rose.
I’m a rabbit
Whose habit
Is twitching his nose.
I’m lively
I’m lovely
I’m kicking my heels.
I’m crying “Come Dance”
To the fresh water eels.
I’m racing through meadows
Without any coat
I’m a gamboling lamb
I’m a light leaping goat
I’m a bud
I’m a bloom
I’m a dove on the wing.
I’m running on rooftops
And welcoming spring!
i remember memorizing several of those poems, but i was much older than poppy when i did so. i also write awful pomes, when i write them. i did write an ode to the dr. suess trees between between the english and psych buildings at our alma mater … and a little rhyme about cherry coke and puppies. those i liked, but i’m pretty sure no one else would. but i digress … i like reading your homeschooling stories. 🙂
Great job, Poppy! I’m looking at doing a similar thing for our K year, plus scripture memory done the same way.
Do you have “A Child’s Garden of Verses,” by RL Stevenson? We have the edition that is illustrated by Brian Wildsmith, and it’s a beautiful book. There’s a poem in there called “The Swing,” and I bet Poppy would like it.
I make my kids memorize poetry, too. It’s good for them, and impresses the public schoolers when they come over for dinner. LOL
This is something that wouldn’t ordinarily occur to me.