The girls came home yesterday with the usual math homework, and an assignment to write a poem.
"We need to write a poem about the ocean, Mom," Talia said.
"Cool, sounds good to me. Does it have to rhyme?" I asked.
"Yes. And no haiku. I can't write any poems besides haiku," Zoe said.
Zoe made a grave error there, in saying she can't write when really she just didn't want to. I waved off their hesitation and launched into a brainstorming session for what the ocean reminded them of. The list of words included: sea, salty, briny, fun, blue, sand, cool, beach, swells, shiny, sea glass, shells, surf, waves, dolphins, and peaceful. It was a pretty good list and something they could work with.
"You know what word comes to mind when I think of the ocean?" I asked them.
"No." Two voices, same word.
"Warmth," I said.
Their eyes bugged out of their heads. "Warmth? Why?" Zoe asked.
"Because the one time I was in the Keys, on a boat, and the air temperature was lower than the water temperature, so in order to warm up, I jumped in the ocean. It felt like a nice bath to me."
"Oh." I guess they didn't have much to say.
They started on their poems and came up with a rudimentary rough draft, a draft I knew their teacher would not be happy with.
"Mr. V expects more from you two, you know. Don't just say sun, describe it. Is it a hot sun, a warm sun, a lemon sun, a piercing sun, a hazy sun, a lazy sun?"
"Mom, how can a sun be lazy?" Talia asked.
"This is poetry! You can make it anything you want it to be! And yes, a sun can be lazy!" I walked back into the kitchen, shaking my head. These two, despite their ability to write, clearly don't enjoy it the way I do. The chance of one of them saying that they'd like to be a writer someday is probably very slim. Whatever. I write enough for the both of them, I guess. They can choose something else, right?
In the end, the poems they wrote were pretty good. No haiku of course, so Tim rescued the day with his own ocean poem. And here it is:
The wave smacks my face
I go under and taste salt
then sand fills my mouth
"We need to write a poem about the ocean, Mom," Talia said.
"Cool, sounds good to me. Does it have to rhyme?" I asked.
"Yes. And no haiku. I can't write any poems besides haiku," Zoe said.
Zoe made a grave error there, in saying she can't write when really she just didn't want to. I waved off their hesitation and launched into a brainstorming session for what the ocean reminded them of. The list of words included: sea, salty, briny, fun, blue, sand, cool, beach, swells, shiny, sea glass, shells, surf, waves, dolphins, and peaceful. It was a pretty good list and something they could work with.
"You know what word comes to mind when I think of the ocean?" I asked them.
"No." Two voices, same word.
"Warmth," I said.
Their eyes bugged out of their heads. "Warmth? Why?" Zoe asked.
"Because the one time I was in the Keys, on a boat, and the air temperature was lower than the water temperature, so in order to warm up, I jumped in the ocean. It felt like a nice bath to me."
"Oh." I guess they didn't have much to say.
They started on their poems and came up with a rudimentary rough draft, a draft I knew their teacher would not be happy with.
"Mr. V expects more from you two, you know. Don't just say sun, describe it. Is it a hot sun, a warm sun, a lemon sun, a piercing sun, a hazy sun, a lazy sun?"
"Mom, how can a sun be lazy?" Talia asked.
"This is poetry! You can make it anything you want it to be! And yes, a sun can be lazy!" I walked back into the kitchen, shaking my head. These two, despite their ability to write, clearly don't enjoy it the way I do. The chance of one of them saying that they'd like to be a writer someday is probably very slim. Whatever. I write enough for the both of them, I guess. They can choose something else, right?
In the end, the poems they wrote were pretty good. No haiku of course, so Tim rescued the day with his own ocean poem. And here it is:
The wave smacks my face
I go under and taste salt
then sand fills my mouth
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