The Weekly Geeks meme this week gives a choice between two of my favorite topics in celebration of International Children's Book Day (April 2nd) and National Poetry Month: "Reading to children" and "Poetry." Option A is called "Be a Kid" and Option B is called "Be a Poet." I must combine the two to share a favorite memory of our 2-year-old daughter (now age 30) reciting poetry to her beloved Gramps.
Weekly Geeks Option A: Be a kid! Write up a post about reading together with your child(ren)
Looking back at those years of raising our children (those years that went by with lightning speed!), B and I have recognized that if we did nothing else right in raising those two wonderful human beings, we got it absolutely right with the books and the poetry, which became part of their souls!
The impact of reading, and especially of poetry, on the language development of very young children is enormous. And that's in addition to the joy of sharing the discoveries a small child makes of the world of books and poems. Our daughter recited poetry as part of her first words and sentences. The syntax was there, if not the ability to enunciate. Her favorite book at that age was a sweet little board book of nursery rhymes,
Ladybug, Ladybug and Other Nursery Rhymes, by
Eloise Wilkin.
So turn up your sound and listen to a short, scratchy recording of our daughter reciting the nursery rhyme, "
One Misty Moisty Morning", to her gramps on his 61st birthday. In this recording, she is exactly the same age as our Grandboy is now, (2 years old). Right now I am almost the same age as my Dad at the time of this recording. A poignant reminder of the passing of seasons. and as I said before, of lightning speed!
And because only the parents (and grandparents) could really understand the words spoken by that beautiful little girl, here's the text of the poem:
One misty, moisty morning,
When cloudy was the weather,
I chanced to meet an old man
Clothes all in leather.
He began to compliment,
And I began to grin.
How do you do?
And how do you do?
And how do you do again?
Looking back at those years of raising our children (those years that went by with lightning speed!), B and I have recognized that if we did nothing else right in raising those two wonderful human beings, we got it absolutely right with the books and the poetry, which became part of their souls!
So turn up your sound and listen to a short, scratchy recording of our daughter reciting the nursery rhyme, "One Misty Moisty Morning", to her gramps on his 61st birthday. In this recording, she is exactly the same age as our Grandboy is now, (2 years old). Right now I am almost the same age as my Dad at the time of this recording. A poignant reminder of the passing of seasons. and as I said before, of lightning speed!
Illustration by Gustaf Tenggren
Napoli's Zel is a dark and psychological retelling for young adults. It is told in first-person narrative for each of the three main characters: Zel, Mother, and Konrad, the one who brings her love and freedom. With this type of narration, you completely understand the story behind each character, and the reasons for each character's actions. It is a story of obsessive love, abuse, and of the redemptive power of love. I listened to the audiobook version, narrated by Alexandra O'Karma, and it was a powerful rendition of a powerful story! This is not a story for young listeners/readers.
On a much lighter note, Rapunzel's Revenge, a graphic novel by Shannon Hale and her husband, Dean, was a lot of fun. Definitely in the category of a "fractured fairy tale," this graphic novel is set in the wild, wild west, and Rapunzel's long, long braided hair is used as a lasso and very effective weapon throughout the book. The humor is silly, in the best possible sense of the word, and I chuckled all the way through it. Lots of fairy tale fun from an author I always enjoy!
Robot Dreams, by Sara Varon, is a wordless graphic novel for children. Library Journal called it a "small, "simple" story of friendship and letting go..."...A dog purchases a robot kit so that he might have a friend to hang out with. The robot, a mellow type, enjoys hanging out with the dog, eating popcorn, watching movies, and going to the library. A trip to the beach, however, turns out to be a less than stellar idea when the robot goes swimming only to rust up and find that it can no longer move. The dog goes home for the night, intending to take the robot along later. Unfortunately, the beach is closed the next day and the poor robot is stuck on the sand, dreaming of things both good and bad. As the months go by, both robot and dog have their own small adventures, real and unreal. By the end, however, they each find new and separate companions. The last image in the book is of the robot seeing the dog with another robot, and understanding that this is a case when you’ve just got to let the person you love go.
Poe was a performer who only knew how to play
