Friday, August 28, 2015



Add your name to the birthday chart.
Look--on Wednesdays we have Art.
Choose three books for your reading box.
Let's all get ready 'cause Second Grade Rocks!

Not my very best little ditty, but it conveys the message:  I am no longer a kindergarten teacher.  I loved kindergarten and I'm sorry to leave it...but now that it's real and the room is set up (just about) I'm getting excited about 2nd grade.  The one thing I'm really grieving is that first-day-of-school Swimmy-Makes-us-Mighty-Minnows tradition.  I have some of the same kids I taught, and they are bigger and more grown up.  I don't think they want to be Minnows any more.

So, I'm starting the year with Sylvester and the Magic Pebble instead, because we have some rocks-and-soil science in the first few weeks to connect to, and we'll also be reading and working with Roxaboxen and If You Find a Rock, books I adore.  But I haven't figured out yet what we will become as a group.  "Magic Pebbles" doesn't capture the characteristics I want to emphasize, and "Mighty Magnets" is a bit of a stretch....I'm hoping it will come to me over the weekend, but if you have any suggestions, PoFolks, I'd welcome them.

The round-up today is hosted by Sylvester I mean Sylvia Vardel at Poetry For Children--enjoy the welcome there too, from Sylvia and my geographic neighbor Linda Kulp!

Friday, August 21, 2015

the rush

Thanks once again to Tabatha for making it happen!
Well, here it is...the rush of adrenaline that comes at this time of year: the calendreal limits of the summer, the moment when projects must be finished, first days to prepare for, new classrooms to discover the delights of.  With these also come that "oh no!" feeling of realizing that some plans have to be abandoned--such as my plan to properly round up today the riches I received from my Summer Poem Swap partners this year.  Instead I offer this instadraft in your plural honor:


This is how I sum it up,
full of gratitude:
Some were early,
some were late,
colored, plain and luscious.
Some are moving,
some are still,
folded, flat and precious. 

To know that you sat,
walked, shopped, thought,
scribbled, cobbled;
To know that you sought
to say something to me,
for me, of me--
that you made your words
a gift of art--
your gifts are greater than the
sum of all their parts.

[draft] Heidi Mordhorst 2015
all rights reserved 

The round-up is in the comments today at Reading to the Core, where Catherine is grieving and the rest of us are with her. Of all things, poetry may suffice.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

poetry friday the 14th

not that I would ever carve a tree...
Welcome one and all!  I suspect we may be a small group this week--last summer flings and all--but I also know that many of us Poetry Friday faithfuls are educators who are beginning to gear up for a new year.  This should be true for me too, but I'm holding on tooth-and-nail to "empty" summer days during which I decide what and when!  Here's a NoNotYet poem to fit that feeling....

No! Not Yet

Bare still feeting, not done yet;
peach still sweeting, not done yet!
Fan still ceiling, not done yet;
rod still reeling, not done yet!

Button snoozing,
Bug bites oozing,
Ball still foozing--
No! not yet…

Cone still snowing, not done yet;
kart still going, not done yet!
Corn still cobbing, not done yet;
odd still jobbing, not done yet.

Summer camping,
skateboard ramping,
swimsuit damping--
No! not yet…

Board still diving, not done yet;
bees still hiving, not done yet.
Beach still waving, not done yet;
Heart still braving, not done yet.

Rock band forming,
early warming,
thunder storming--
No! not yet…

Burn still sunning, not done yet;
Nerf still gunning, not done yet!
Fair still wheeling, not done yet;
bases stealing, not done yet!

Firepit smoking,
knock-knock joking,
cousin poking--
No! not yet…

Cards still warring, not done yet;
night still starring, not done yet.
Fireworks booming, not done yet;
Moon still blooming, not done yet!

It can’t be over--
                   No, not yet!
(My summer

-Heidi Mordhorst 2015
  all rights reserved

Where are you in the wheel of the year?  Clicking slowly and deliciously up-up-up to the first day of school, ready to ride that roller coaster, or noticing already the drawing in of the evening light, the scatter of yellow leaves on the still-green lawn?  Or perhaps you are good at being smack in the middle of the moment...your post should give us a clue!

Thanks for joining in this week, the last week of the Summer Poem Swap--I look forward to sharing the riches I received next Friday.  Now then, click below to leave your link for all to follow!

Friday, August 7, 2015

don't believe me just swatch

This week at The Miss Rumphius Effect Tricia asked us to write a "timeline" poem.  I thought it was the ideal moment to write about some old watches I was dispatching during this my Summer of Declutter.  I'll say no more since I'm having a devil of a time with formatting today, except that our Poetry Friday host is none other than my local friend Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference. 

don't believe me just swatch

NYC 1986
sidewalk knockoff
of subway art
radiant, baby, in black and red
Thanks, Keith


London 94 and love is all around
on a Sunday I buy a new watch,
wear it to some weddings
but no one we know needs a funeral
we’re lucky

timetumbler 1996 flung
weightless in the air over oceans
repatriated, do I come out
more polished?

Caterpillar Classroom 2001
sewing machine runs in fits and starts
patches of orangecoralpink & one red heart
4-year-olds keep me in stitches:
Mother’s Day quilt for my wrist

-Heidi Mordhorst 2015
 all rights reserved
photos from Swatch website

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

new & improved

Welcome to my WIP--a combined blog and website!  Please bear with me while I get it all set up, and here's a poem about the process to keep me going...this one pretty faithfully records today's loooooooong
edit >update>preview>edit loop.

from constant change figures | Lyn Hejinian

constant change figures
the time we sense
passing on its effect
surpassing things we've known before
since memory
of many things is called
but what of what
we call nature's picture
surpassing things we call
since memory
we call nature's picture
surpassing things we've known before
constant change figures
passing on its effect
but what of what
constant change figures
since memory
of many things is called
the time we sense
called nature's picture
but what of what
in the time we sense
surpassing things we've known before
passing on its effect
is experience