#NPM18 - 14/30 - Celebrating A Birthday

April is  #NPM18 - National Poetry Month.

There is not a particle of life which does not bear poetry within it. - Gustave Flaubert 

   

      Also celebrating today with Ruth Ayres and others who share. 

          

         Of interest:  See the page on the bar above for the Progressive Poem's schedule of poets, hosted by Irene Latham at Live Your Poem.  

        And, see what many are doing for Poetry Month, by looking HERE at Jama Rattigan's post at Jama's Alphabet Soup.
          

              My goal for Poetry Month: A haiku diary that may include other forms related to haiku, like haibun, haiga. monoku or renga. My first poem speaks of why I am handwriting the poems.

April’s garden,

growing poems 

on lined pages

                    Linda Baie

links:

       Poem one

       Poem two

       Poem three 

       Poem Four

       Poem Five
       Poem Six  

       Poem Seven

       Poem Eight 

       Poem Nine 

       Poem Ten
      Poem Eleven
      Poem Twelve
      Poem Thirteen

Here's Poem Fourteen:

           It's a special second birthday celebration. Poets celebrated the 80th birthday of Lee Bennett Hopkins yesterday on Poetry Friday!
           Today is my granddaughter Ingrid's ninth birthday. She is a dear granddaughter, as are my other grandchildren, continuing to grow up year by year. I am grateful for them being in my life. I added the feelings to Milne's poem I imagine many kids have, but we adults may not as we watch our children, our students, too, and our grandchildren growing so fast!

age six

Now We Are Six

When I was one,
I had just begun.
When I was two,
I was nearly new.
When I was three,
I was hardly me.
When I was four,
I was not much more.
When I was five,
I was just alive.
But now I am six,
I'm as clever as clever.
So I think I'll be six now
forever and ever. 

       above poem by A.A. Milne   Thanks to Milne, whose poem fills my heart, but there is more to come no matter how we wish to stop time on occasion.

yesterday, almost nine

Yet she did not stop

moved on to seven,

again kept moving.

though it was heaven.

Another year passes 

then she was eight.

Now that year kept on -

marked off every date.

Now, Ingrid’s nine,

she loves this age,

at least so far

till she again turns the page.

         Linda Baie (C) All Rights