Surround Them with Poetry
Poetry is a natural element in human existence, like breathing and
language and music of the heart. And yet, somewhere between the first
rhythms of Mother Goose and the tick tick tock of our busy adult
lives, this natural need, the understanding and acceptance of what is
poetic, is lost. Is it the poets fault, the listener, the
teachers, the noisy interference of work and responsibility? I
m not sure. But I do know how important poetry is for the
child. The play of language, the music, and the repetition all help a
child learn about language itself and ultimately how to read. I am
sure that some of the benefits we receive from poetry as a child
could be realized by our adult selves.
Think about how children are surrounded by poetry (hopefully they
are). Nursery rhymes, lullabies and Mother Goose, hand games, finger
plays, bathtime songs, jump rope rhymes. Even the little playground
taunts Sam and Rosa sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.
Mother
Goose is the kingpin of all that is poetic in a childs
life, the godmother of all poetry, the roots beneath every successful
poet. The beauty of Mother Goose is in the nonsense that could
actually be explained, to those who care to listen, in historic
terms, the music of the rhythms, the levels of meaning. Certainly,
Mother Goose is far from politically correct. Lots of violence and
slander. But the words and the sounds these words make are all that
really matter with the poetry of Mother Goose.
Little Tommy Tittlemouse
Lived in a little house:
He caught fishes
In other mens ditches.
Or how about this one
For want of a nail
The shoe was lost.
For want of a shoe
The horse was lost.
For want of a horse
The rider was lost.
For want of a rider
The battle was lost.
For want of a battle
The kingdom was lost.
And all for the want
Of a horse shoe nail.
Now we could analyze and dissect this poem. Almost perfect
syllabics, the political ramifications. But lets not. The purpose of
Mother Goose is to present rhymes that are easy to memorize and
recite out loud. The art of reciting poetry is near lost despite the
many coffeehouses springing up on college campuses. We need to allow
kids to enjoy poetry "just because". We need to enjoy poetry
ourselves "just because". And learn to share it.
I will recommend some poets and poetry books to try with children
of all ages. Teen-agers might enjoy these poets, or they might be
ready to move on to more "adult" poets. Here are three books I would
recommend
Piping
Down the Valleys Wild: Poetry for the Young of All Ages
edited by Nancy Larrick
The
Butterfly Jar by Jeffrey Moss
Joyful
Noise: Poems for Two Voices by Paul Fleischman
Of course, you cant go wrong if you pick up a book by either
Jack
Prelutsky or Shel
Silverstein. But here are some other poets you may not have heard
of that have several books you could chose from: James
Stevenson, Ogden
Nash, Lee
Bennett Hopkins, Eve
Merriam, Eugene
Field, Frank
Asch, X.
J. Kennedy, Douglas
Florian, Nikki
Grimes, Eloise
Greenfield, J.
Patrick Lewis, And Charlotte
Pomerantz.
And finally, a newer poet that I think merits special mention.
Kristine
OConnell George just has three books The
Great Frog Race, Old
Elm Speaks: Tree Poems, and her most recent Little
Dog Poems. I find her childrens poetry to be a wonderful
alternative to the zany word play and off-the-wall nonsense of
Prelutsky/Silverstein and cohorts. In her three books, Kristine
George shows an attention to poetic detail, a clever sense of humor,
and an awareness of the full range of emotions a child experiences.
And she manages all this without excess and without falling back on
sentimentality.
Do yourself a favor. Give poetry a chance again. Forget that
8th grade English teacher that told you you were wrong to
think that the rock in that poem was nothing more than a rock. Check
out some of the books I mentioned. Read them with your child. Take a
poetry break. Memorize a poem and recite it at the office.
Heres a little poem by James Stevenson from his book
Popcorn. My gift to all of you.
Dogs go in the back seat,
Always in the back seat,
Miles in the backseat,
Hours in the backseat.
But in the parking lots of shopping centers,
Youll see: Dogs get their chance
At last
To drive.
You
are in > Home
> Articles
> Daddies
> Jim
Click here to
read more articles from this author
About the Author:
Jim Zola is a 42 year old librarian from Greensboro, NC where he
lives with his wife, Tricia, and his children: Dylan Scott, 13,
Ariana Bryn, 3, and Ethan Tobias, 2.
Visit his
website!
you are in: home | daddies articles
Home
| Advertise
| FAQ |
Chat
| Newsletters | Forums
| Coloring Pages |
Greeting Cards
|