On Giving

Over at his Nana’s house yesterday, Gman decided he would write some poetry – which you can read on his blog – and P (my much-beloved stepfather) mentioned that his father used to write poems and that he had a folder of his poetry. His dad would write poems on the train, and then painstakingly type them up on a manual typewriter. A labour of love, for sure. I don’t know much about P’s father – aside from the fact that he was a grocer by trade, and that he had been a prisoner of war in WWII. But reading his poetry, I felt a connection. His words conveyed the fact that he was a keen observer of life; a spiritual man; a thinker. It made me wish that I had known him.

One poem, in particular, touched my heart. It is called “On Giving”:

For me, this is a beautiful summing up of the practice of egoless generosity. I particularly love these lines:

Gifts of money, most can spare
Gifts of time – or love- more rare.
Self too often intervenes,
Mars the beauty of the scene.
When we think ourselves most right
Oft ’tis then we’ve lost our sight,
Blinded by our self-esteem,
We lose our soul, ‘tho vent our spleen.

Flowery Verse

Today’s May Flower Challenge post comes courtesy of seven-year-old Waif, who has been penning more flower related poetry.  Here’s his Plants Poem:

 

And “Roses”:

He has also written two more nature-related poems this week. “The Water”:

And, my favourite so far, “The River”:

Waif has just discovered the word “shroud” and seems to like it!!

Gman has also been putting pen to paper and has written a poem about trees. You can read it over on his blog.

On Mina, Boys, Education & Poetry

I think we all felt somewhat sad this week to have finished reading the really rather delightful My Name is Mina. This book, more than any other, seems to have sparked a creativity in the boys, most especially in Waif. Although he has been a fluent reader for some time, he has never really been interested in writing. However, with this book, that has changed and he has been writing stories and poems like they’re going out of fashion! Whereas Gman did go to school until the age of 8, Waif has never been to school and I think that, as a result, his style of learning is a lot more fluid and organic, and he seems less worried about “shoulds” and conventions. In addition, he has been exposed to “real” books and poetry (in the last month for example, we have read poetry by Lewis Carroll, Mary Oliver, Basho, Ryokan, William Blake – possibly not what 7 year olds at school are reading!) rather than textbooks and books written with particular curriculum-focused goals in mind (lol – I originally typed that as gaols – possibly rather fitting?!)

Anyway, here are a few poems he has written:

“Peace is”:

(my favourite line – “peace hasn’t got any shouting”)

“Spring”:

“Sandy Land Poem”:

And two odes to Corny (Gman’s pet corn snake):

I do wonder if a seven year old boy in a school setting would have the same freedom to write? If he would be teased by his peers for his love of flowers? If his poetry would be corrected so that it followed more “shoulds” and conventions? I don’t know, but I do know I am enjoying this new development