Ah… the 2018 Kidlitosphere Progressive Poem has landed at my portal. For a little backstory, the Progressive Poem was created by Irene Latham, poet and author, in 2012, and occurs during National Poetry Month. Irene selects a poet to write the first line and for the next 30 days each day a new line is added by a new poet, (who has signed up) and slowly a poem is built with curves, crescendoes, peaks, and valleys, happening wherever they may fall.
We have a delightful and fantastic story unfolding this year. Jasmine or Jas, is our MC. She began her life as a seed and is having quite a rollicking adventure traveling in the careful talons of an owl into the upper stratosphere, to perhaps pass by or visit her other new friend Moon.
This year, Heidi Mordhorst, created an extra element for those participating in the Progressive Poem. We were all asked to quickly jot down our responses and foretelling to the initial line that was composed by Liz Steinglass–set it aside and then revisit our thoughts before writing our own line. Here’s Liz’s first line: “Nestled in her cozy bed, a seed stretched.” My initial thoughts were, This could go anywhere–it’s fresh and free–a new beginning. Perhaps the MC is a seed, but what kind? But perhaps the seed is a metaphor for a little girl… The seed is definitely a seed but a fantastic one. I’ve also been sketching a bit as the poem’s been developing…
Here’s the poem with my line added at the end.
Nestled in her cozy bed, a seed stretched.
Oh, what wonderful dreams she had!
Blooming in midnight moonlight, dancing with
the pulse of a thousand stars, sweet Jasmine
invented a game.
“Moon?” she called across warm honeyed air.
“I’m sad you’re alone; come join Owl and me.
We’re feasting on stardrops, we’ll share them with you.”
“Come find me,” Moon called, hiding behind a cloud.
Secure in talons’ embrace, Jasmine rose
and set. She split, twining up Owl’s toes, pale
moonbeams sliding in between, Whoosh, Jasmine goes.
Owl flew Jasmine between clouds and moon to Lee’s party!
Moon, that wily bright balloon, was NOT alone.
a trellis Sky held out to her, made of braided wind and song.
Her green melody line twisted and clung.
Because she was twining poet’s jasmine, she
wiggled a wink back at Moon, and began her poem.
I’m passing the baton on to Linda Kulp Trout, placing our special Jas in her care.
Come join us for the rest of Jas’ adventure by following the links below, who knows which way the wind may take her!