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A pile of frogs

A dad and his boy

A job to be done—

a bucket deployed

Flip-floppin’, hip-hoppin’

frog-wrangling joy!

A pile of frogs

A dad and his boy

Molly Hogan ©2020

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Crisp-winter stomp,
hound-prancing romp

Snow-freckled trees
worn, rustling leaves

Snout-plowing trail
squirrel-chasing tale

Boot-tramping creak
ear-flapping streak

Glaciers in claws,
popsicle paws

Nosing the door
snooze-ball once more.

—©Buffy Silverman

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Loud morning sounds filter in

orchestrating a wake-up tune

"Let this sun-shining day begin."

Sounds surround as birds croon.

Winter dances its syncopating step,

digging a fast tree-swaying,

blustery, wind-yowling rep.

Spring interjects on this cold-smacking,

winter-dancing, February morn.

Winter, can I please send you packing?

Answer, a brand-new thought is born!

©CV, 2020
https://beyondliteracylink.blogspot.com/2020/02/on-cold-smacking-day.html

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Rachael Ikins

Spring exhalation,

a sinuous snake flowing in

window-crack, licks lips

tasting air. House sighs.

Tongue caresses found

scents; book-pages,

asphalt, and jump-ropes.

Peepers’ fragile flame,

sound, reedy.

Swamp heats rot’s perfume,

a lip-smacking drool.

Excess.

Ecstasy.

Wake! Wake! Wake!

cardinal sings,

single scarlet notes,

bleed into blue.

(C) Rachael Z. Ikins

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The summer sun is on respite

fall’s blazing leaves have taken flight

Now barren limbs brave icy night

Earth’s color- gods have lost their might

My sun-starved soul’s gray-gloomy plight

By Janie Lazo 2020 all rights reserved

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Winter weather grip grip gripping

Pigeons peck peck pecking.

Sun shim shim shimmering.

Cardinals flirt flirt flirting.

Icicles crack crack cracking.

Chickadees chat chat chattering.

Snow melt melt melting.

Sparrows chirp chirp chirping.

Winter weather shive shive shivering.

Until ... days get long long longer.

Kathleen Mazurowski 2020 -all rights reserved

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Such a feeder-crazy

Finch-fighting day -- frenzied

Squirrel instigated

A wren-skittering fray

I’m just hoping this food

Calms the mood

© Karen Eastlund 2020

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Rabbit-stirring started early

on Valentine-loving day…

Spring-creeping curled up by

Cottontail-sleepy eyes.

Wake-up-slumbering rabbit

get those whiskers-whisking about.

Leap Year-calling has come

Leap Year-singing has begun–

Shake those big feet-stompers

wake those big feet-leapers,

are you ready with your

feet-parachuting pounce…

© 2020 Michelle Kogan

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Drippity drop,

Makes drippity drips.

The drops go,

Ploppity plop.

Big drops, little drops.

Drippity drip!

Droppity drop!

Ploppity plop!

By Angelique Pacheco (C) 2020

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A strong wind a-howlin’- it’s swirlin’ and growlin’ - it seems like the wind wants to play

It’s a swing set a-swayin- wind gustin’ and baying’- hold on to your hat kind of day

It’s a billowy, breezy- and ever so sneezy- a what’s in my eye sort of day

The tree limbs are flailin’- the wound-wind is wailin’ this flag whippin’ - furlicky day

It’s a toupee’ hair raisin’ - wind lashing- sun blazin’ -California style red flag wind day

So grab your best kite- but be sure to hold tight- as The wind may just blow YOU away

Janie Lazo 2019 - all rights reserved

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Frenzied flurries are in a mood―

A chickadee tagging, turn black cap into white mood,

A squirrel chasing, cover-the-gray into down of cloud mood,

An air zipping fly-by-kissing, leave no thing unblissed mood . . .

YESSS.

Frenzied flurries are in a mood―

a whimsical

o n e  d e r l a n d

snow-flurrious

mood!

Cory Corrado (2020)©

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Beneath a sun-peaching sky

mini Marshmallow stroll-patroller

surveys his territory

yippy-yapping at all trespassers

secures dominion over

his home, yard, and grass-kissed sidewalk

© 2020 Mindy Gars Dolandis

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The wave-dancing, endless crashing
water music welcomes me

to the sun-blistering,
crazy-quilted beach.

Where towel-unfurling placement is an art,

and undertow-racing, deep-hole digging children
scream f o r e v e r. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Their voices carried off by ocean breezes,
drowned out by seagull-screeching songs.

Where eager bathers dodge the sea-foamy shore,

and summer-heat's magic becomes a healing balm.

Where strangers share their bits of sand-tinged tapestries,

tip-toeing around with care.

@Janet Clare Fagal

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On winter walks

on crisp cold mornings

my favorite part

of frozen gravel paths

is finding

rumpled edges

and shallow ditches

where skims of

clouded ice

hang waiting for

my ice-searching

puddle-crunching

foot to

smash crash crinkle crackle crunch through

to the hollow space beneath.

© Rebekah Hoeft February 2020

Image by Rene Schue from Pixabay

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A brown cardboard package
ker-thumps on my porch.

The open door

creates a cascade.

Icicles scatter-shatter.
Squirrel-tail twitches

before tiny toes flee.

Brown birds heckle and hang

on twig-twanging holly branches.

Rabbits munch ice-crusted clover,

small, round eyes fixed. On me.

I give the cold package a shake.

And a tilt. Bump-whump.

My nose doesn’t quite freeze.

Inside, I slit packing tape,

but some part of me

remains outside

as if my soul is part hound

and the universe has shouted

“Squirrel!”

Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham

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Nature and I have an understanding.
She goes about her day—
bees pollen-bobbing for their deliveries
clouds sky-surfing at high tide
roses petal-kissing on the bush I neglected to trim last season
And I pretend to go about mine—
words clinging to the page
like Spanish moss on blossom-ready branches
holding on to hope despite a stiff, chilling breeze.

© 2020 Michelle Heidenrich Barnes. All rights reserved.

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head dipping,

feathers dripping,

wings thrashing,

splish splashing―
Sir Robin

lingers spleasureably long in his bathwater realm―

totally

quenched

and

royally

drenched!

(thoroughly UNRUFFLED―

while his subjects queue on . . .

deferring their cool)

Cory Corrado ©

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A tree-sparkling palace

was built overnight.

So armed with my camera

I took in the sight.

Booted and bundled,

snow-crunching my way,

I captured the beauty

God sent me that day.

© Cindy Breedlove

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Outside my back door lies heaven,

a snow-dropping,
limb-trembling heaven.

These trees of my heart,

full of nest-building, tail-swishing critters,

tell me seasons and tick-tocky time.

A shade, a shelter, a savior,

my guardian woods stand watch,

brighten my nature-starved soul.

(c) Sherry Howard

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A moss-hung bayou

has a coot-spooky feel.

It's a gator-gliding,

limpkin-screaming,

cypress-kneeling deal,

where snakes a-sliding,

raptors hiding

give it squeal appeal.

©2020 B.J. Lee

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Want to see my snow-skipping day?

Here’s the kid-tumbling, angel-making neighbors at play.

A neighbor scurries by with a leash-pulling dog

who’s after a nut-munching squirrel on a log.

The sun-gleaming orb whines. Its shine’s gone awry

to the wind-whipping, cloud-covering sky.

Tis smiling-me on my boot-sliding walk,

for a flake-stinging, winter-dazzling talk.

Linda Baie ©

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It’s a foam-splashing, wave-crashing, sea-thrashing day.

It’s a cold-battling, board-straddling, arm-paddling day.

So grab your wet-suit and be on your way.

Hurl in the curl cuz the surf’s up today!

Dianne Moritz - February, 2020

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A wee nose-nudge

in a sleeping ear

earns a grrreeting...

but she's still sleeping!

He tries a paw-prod,

a leg-chew, a collar-chomp--

what will it take

to get her up?

Finally,
she snarl-rolls to her feet,

Stop gnawing on me

while I'm trying to sleep!

He tears down the hall

with her fast on his heels--

playtime has started

with a roar and retreat!

Tabatha Yeatts

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An umbrella-floating,
wind-howling,
color-observing day.

It is a sun-shining,
hawk-squawking,
umbrella-looking day.

Yesterday was a rain-falling,
person-frowning,
cloud-covering day.

Tomorrow will be a book-reading,
computer-typing,
person-silent day.

I want to be a queen-smiling,
sun-shining,
notebook-writing friend.

by Breighlynn, 4th grade
Mrs. Simon's class

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Gray clouds cover the color-opening sky
hiding the balloon-rising sun.
Everyone is umbrella-popping sad,
wet from mist-bathing skin
until the baby starts a puddle-splashing dance,
and we all join in.
(c) Margaret Simon

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Ice-giving tree

J.G. Annino

Globes-glowing

neon color-showing

done-growing

harvest-knowing

fruit-picking

pulp-squeezing

liquid-dripping

trays-filling

juice-chilling

ice giving-tree

© Jan Godown Annino all rights reserved

* On a daily trek I’m among city suburbs as I stroll. Our lemon is one of the most color-packed (in season) trees of our front yard.

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Dreaming cruse sing
looking beyond
windows view
first winter-star-slush Glisson's webbed- footed-welters  screech for crumbs
not welter feet but for wills a free-rolling me
bound rusty fences
free rolling-roads
winding me mountain-summit-high
fielding-dear-prance-dancing out my
home-traveler ride
clod hopper prints of
grisly-growlers
paving bumpy roads ahead  Dreaming cruse sing
looking beyond
windows view
blanked by billions of star-whistlers as they whistle
pining-towers  of quiet
far beyond my windows view
first winter-star-slush Glisson's as I  cruse in my junkyard RV

poem by Jessica Bigi

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Snowflakes bumping

gliding, crashing

down in heavy

storm-silence.

Such bough-drooping

bark-mottling

random artistry!

Watch as it leaves lacy

crystal hieroglyphs

everywhere.

© Janice Scully 2020

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For more details about this month's challenge ...

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For more details about this month's challenge ...

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https://michellehbarnes.blogspot.com/2020/02/spotlight-on-buffy-silverman-dmc.html

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It's true, we just turned the page to February. But in my neck of the woods temps are back in the 70s, trees are beginning to flower, and look what else arrived this week-a new book to warm my heart.

I'm tickled blossom-pink to introduce my friend and critique partner Buffy Silverman for our first Spotlight interview of 2020! Buffy is the author of more than 90 nonfiction books for young readers, featuring topics from angel sharks to alligators, and Mars to monster trucks. Children's poetry fans might be more familiar with her nature-inspired poems that pop up regularly in anthologies, popular children's magazines, and, I'm pleased to say, here on Today's Little Ditty.

In her role as a TLD contributor, Buffy has taught readers much about how connecting with nature can make us better poets. She spends time outdoors every day, occasionally with a dragonfly perched on her nose, but more often accompanied by her dog and camera. There's always something new to discover living near woods and a lake in rural Michigan, and taking photographs encourages her to slow down and watch closely -a skill that every good poet must cultivate. I'm delighted to include several of Buffy's outstanding photographs in today's post. (The hardest part was deciding which ones to share!)

One of the qualities I find most remarkable about Buffy's writing is her ability to transform those carefully observed small details into poetry, finding the perfect word in every instance, even when it's one she's had to invent herself. Buffy is adept at wordplay alchemy-something she has practiced from the age of 10 years old. On a Snow-Melting Day: Seeking Signs of Spring is a superb example of what kind of enchantment can come of it.

Described in a starred Kirkus review as "Crocus-poking, mud-luscious enjoyment," Buffy describes On a Snow-Melting Day as "an extended poem about all the changes that occur as winter retreats and spring begins. It features chickadees sipping from icicles, spotted salamanders marching over melting snow, and insects warming themselves in skunk cabbage." (Read more from Buffy's interview with Raven Howell here.)

Vibrant photographs paired with playful rhyming verse will captivate young children, making this book an ideal read-aloud for home, preschool, or library story time. For grades 1-3, teachers will appreciate this book as a mentor text because of the expressive sensory language. They can also make use of the back matter (an informational author's note, glossary, and further reading) to extend and enhance interactive learning. The book is "perfect," according to the School Library Journal, "for answering nature-related questions or crafting lesson plans."

Why not try this simple idea for the classroom:

"Reading poetry to your students can be a gift," explains Buffy in an interview at Two Writing Teachers. "Let them enjoy listening to a poem each day, without asking for discussion or analysis. Then read the poem again and ask students to remember one or two favorite words. Write those words in a class word bank, and encourage your students to borrow them for their own writing."

And what should they write? How about "drip-droppy, slip-sloppy" poems in response to Buffy's DMC challenge this month! You'll find detailed instructions later on in this interview.

Let's begin, as always, with five favorites.

FAVORITE SMELL:
The scent of soil after a rainstorm. There's a word for that smell-petrichor-which comes from the Greek words petra ( meaning stone) and ichor (a fluid flowing in the veins of the gods.)

FAVORITE GRADE IN SCHOOL:
In fourth grade, Mrs. Rasanen had a reel-to-reel tape player and played a song for us that went, "Hey ho, what do you know, friction makes heat. Hey ho, what do you know, we're making heat!" Combining music with science was pretty radical at the time (and that might be why I can still sing the tune while rubbing my hands together!) Fourth grade was also the year we took a class trip to Sturbridge Village.

FAVORITE TEACHER IN SCHOOL:
Mr. Kirkpatrick, eleventh grade English. I was often unengaged in classes in junior high and high school. But Mr. Kirpatrick told me that I was a good writer-and he took the time to show me how to make my writing stronger. His words and attention set me on a different path. Understanding how to revise what I wrote helped turn me into a successful student in college and a writer today.

As a child you were a tree climber, an insect finder, and a word collector, yet you didn't begin thinking of yourself as a writer until graduate school. When did you realize you were a poet?

I'm not sure I think of myself as a poet. Let's just say I'm someone who enjoys writing poetry. (The first definition in the dictionary of a poet is someone who writes poetry, so perhaps someday soon I will embrace the term.) I've always loved playing with language, and I think that led me to dabbling in poetry.

Your bibliography, especially for the nonfiction educational market, is quite impressive! What do you enjoy most about writing for that market?

For me there have been two great benefits to writing for the educational market. The first is having tight writing deadlines. I am a procrastinator, and deadlines force me to be organized and to keep writing. The second is learning about a wide range of subjects, including many that I had little knowledge of before diving head first into the research. I now understand why airplanes have flaps, big rigs have tails, and how to bring a hot air balloon down to earth!

How does poetry fit into the big picture of your writing career?

While I've enjoyed having writing assignments and learning many, many interesting tidbits, I'm trying to shift the focus of my writing to more narrative and poetic approaches to nonfiction (and maybe even some fiction, too!) I am drawn to writing about the natural world, which I think is a subject that inspires poetry.

What I love most about On a Snow-Melting Day is your fun, evocative language. Your description of the change of season is factual, yet never trite or dull. Can you tell us more about your process of writing the book?

On a Snow-Melting Day started as an idea for StoryStorm 2018, in response to a blog post that encouraged writers to pay attention to what's around them. Here's what I wrote in my notebook:

Then I made a few notes about mist rising in the air, boots sinking in the slush, puddles growing on the lake. My notes continued: Is there a story here? Or just a poem?

Initially I thought the image in my head was more of a poem than a story idea, but about a month later I had a writing day with my critique group and decided to explore the idea more fully. I thought about what different animals might be doing on a series of snow-melting days and tried to paint a picture of the landscape getting closer and closer to spring. I pictured the woods, lake, and marshy areas that are outside my door.

I managed to finish a draft in one day (which is not usual for me. Peer pressure is wonderful! Go write with your friends!) Of course, I revised that draft many times.

The photographs complement your spare text so perfectly. Considering that this book is not traditionally illustrated, were you involved in the process of selecting the photos or was your expressive writing all the in-house designers needed?

Allison Juda, the Millbrook editor assigned to my manuscript, chose the photographs and masterfully designed the book with little input from me. I offered Allison several of my own photographs that I thought might work with my manuscript and was thrilled when she decided to include three of them. There was one part of my text that Allison didn't understand and she wondered if I should change: Icicles drip. Chickadees sip.

But she was fine about keeping that couplet once I sent her links to photos of chickadees sipping icicles. (Who knew they did this? Not me until I started searching for an animal that drinks from icicles.) I believe the chickadee-sipping photo used in the book was one that I had sent to Allison. I also suggested which flowers to include in the final spread (hepatica) to make sure we had one of the earliest blooming wildflowers.

Please share a favorite spread from
On a Snow-Melting Day and tell us why it's a favorite.

How can I decide on only one?! If I must choose, I'll go with this one: On a plink-plonking, marsh-mucking, duck-dabbling day.

Those phrases are fun to say, I love pussy willows, and I have a nice memory of walking with my daughter at the Kellogg Bird Sanctuary when I took the photo of the handsome pair of mallards.

Let's imagine for the moment that
On a Snow-Melting Day is part of a four-book series (which it should be!) describing each of the seasonal transitions in a similar fashion. What is one thing you might have observed for each of the other books in the series?

There's so much wonder in the world as the seasons change. Here are a few favorite sights: frogs staking out their territories and serenading their sweethearts as spring turns to summer; praying mantises laying their foamy egg cases on tall grasses when summer turns to fall; huge flocks of sandhill cranes gathering to dance and raise a ruckus as fall turns to winter. Whether or not those critters would fit neatly into a rhyme scheme is another question!

If you had all the world's children in one room, what would you tell them?

Go outside (every day if you can!) Look, listen, feel, and smell nature. Let yourself fall in love with our world.

Finally, what you have chosen as this month's ditty challenge?

I had great fun combining and inventing words when writing On a Snow-Melting Day. I think TLD readers would enjoy this too. Here's a recipe to follow, or strike out on your own.

INGREDIENTS:

Five or more nouns (choose plants/animals/weather-related nouns, or anything else you observe outside.)

Five or more verbs that are actions your nouns might take and/or sounds that your nouns might make.

INSTRUCTIONS:

1. Take a walk or look out a window to gather the ingredients listed above.

2. Combine each noun-verb pair to create an adjective. (These are some that I used in Snow-Melting Day: hawk-squawking, marsh-mucking, paw-sinking, duck-dabbling.)

3. Play with your combinations to create different adjectives (paw-dabbling? duck-squawking? marsh-sinking?)

4. Write a poem that celebrates the place you observed, using at least two of your noun-verb combinations or other invented words.

we're going word-wandering!

But before setting off, please help me thank Buffy and Dakota for being here today... though I've been told Dakota is only in it for the kibble. Buffy, on the other hand, is looking forward to reading your poems and is offering a personalized copy of On a Snow-Melting Day: Seeking Signs of Spring to one lucky DMC participant!

(Winner to be selected randomly at the end of the month.)

Post your poem with invented words on our February 2020 padlet. Stop by any time during the month to add your work or to check out what others are contributing.

By posting on the padlet, you are granting me permission to share your poem on Today's Little Ditty. Some poems will be featured as daily ditties. I don't typically give authors advance notice, so subscribe to the blog if you'd like to keep tabs. You can do that in the sidebar to the right where it says "Follow TLD by Email." All of the poems will be included in a wrap-up celebration on the last Friday of the month-February 28th for our current challenge.

TEACHERS, it's great when students get involved! Ditty of the Month Club challenges are wonderful opportunities to learn about working poets and authors while having fun with poetry prompts. Thank you for spreading the word! For children under 13, please read my COPPA compliance statement in the sidebar to the right.

FIRST-TIMERS (those who have never contributed to a ditty challenge before), in addition to posting your work on the padlet, please send your name and email address to TodaysLittleDitty (at) gmail (dot) com. That way I'll be able to contact you if necessary.

BLOGGERS, thank you for publishing your poems on your own blogs- I love that! Please let me know about it, so I can share your post! Also remember to include your poem (or a direct link to your post) on the padlet in order to be included in the wrap-up celebration and end-of-month giveaway.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thanks to Laura Purdie Salas for hosting this week's Poetry Friday roundup. She is writing poems in a variety of unusual places this year and today shares a poem written in an orchestra.

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Spotlight on Buffy Silverman + DMC Challenge

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It's true, we just turned the page to February. But in my neck of the woods temps are back in the 70s, trees are beginning to flower, and look what else arrived this week-a new book to warm my heart. I'm tickled blossom-pink to introduce my friend and critique partner Buffy Silverman for our first Spotlight interview of 2020!

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Unless otherwise noted, all poems are © 2020 by the authors, who control all rights.

By posting here, you are granting Michelle Heidenrich Barnes permission to post your poem on TODAY'S LITTLE DITTY. If you have not participated in a challenge before, please send Michelle an email at TodaysLittleDitty@gmail.com so that she can contact you, if necessary.

PROTECT YOUR COPYRIGHT
Anonymous poems will not be approved. Remember to include your name as author of any work that you post!

HOW TO POST YOUR POEM:
Double click anywhere on the wall to bring up a text box. Type your title on the title line. Cut and paste the rest of your poem where it says "Write something...". To accommodate line length, pull the white edge of the text box to the right. Click on an icon to attach a file, image, or link to a URL. Single click outside the text box when finished.

This board is moderated to prevent spam. Once your poem is approved, it will appear publicly. If you're having difficulty posting, email Michelle at the address above.