How to Read a Poem

Here's a great article on how to read a poem to get the most out of it.

http://www.wattpad.com/38221388?utm_source=web%3Areading&utm_medium=facebook&ref_id=18355809


Moving Through all Seven Days link:http://www.lulu.com/content/e-book/moving-through-all-seven-days/7386965# http://www.helium.com/users/406242.html http://www.associatedcontent.com/user/237923/Kathy_stemke_dancekam.html Follow me on twitter: http://twitter.com/kathystemke Follow me on Facebook:http://www.facebook.com/topic.php?uid=6147172660&topic=4910#!/kathymarescomatthews.stemke?ref=profile Follow me on LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/pub/kathy-stemke/13/269/285

LET US REMEMBER THEM!

MY GRANDSON, MICHAEL, IS THE ONE IN THE MIDDLE!

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear..
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..

To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night."
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearlon a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall.."

" So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us.."

PLEASE, would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many
people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our
U.S service men and women for our being able to celebrate these
festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.

LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN
30th Naval Construction Regiment
OIC, Logistics Cell One
Al Taqqadum, Iraq




Moving Through all Seven Days link:http://www.lulu.com/content/e-book/moving-through-all-seven-days/7386965#http://www.helium.com/users/406242.html
http://www.associatedcontent.com/user/237923/Kathy_stemke_dancekam.html
http://kathystemke.weebly.com

Poem: Father

This is a first draft of a poem I'm thinking of sending to Chicken Soup for the Soul. It's free verse. Do you think I should rhyme it? Do you get the meaning? Do you think that fathers will relate to it? I'd appreciate any comments you could give to me. Thanks for your help.

Father
by Kathy Stemke

His sanctuary’s found at sea
With nature he is one

He sails with the wind on silent waves
And his spirit is free

Eyes bluer than the bluest ocean
Gaze, lost in thought

Wistfully, he ponders unfulfilled dreams
And questions the success of his life

If only he knew....
How I feel

Shakespeare, Einstein, Da Vinci, Bach,
To name just a few great men

Father,
Their merits are meaningless and trite
when compared to you.

Moving Through all Seven Days link:http://www.lulu.com/content/e-book/moving-through-all-seven-days/7386965#http://www.helium.com/users/406242.html
http://www.associatedcontent.com/user/237923/Kathy_stemke_dancekam.html
http://kathystemke.weebly.com

TOP TEN PREDITORS AND EDITORS READERS POLL 2008

http://www.anotherealm.com/prededitors/votepoem08.htm

An Empty Stage By Kathy Stemke


Coiled torso frozen on an empty stage,

a living sculpture trapped and placed

with no gown of tulle to hide her age

but with weeping knees below her waist.



Framed in light her insides groan

with pent up passion poised for release,

she now waits long and alone

for rhythm to carry her into peace.



But I remember her unencumbered

prance, so light for one who was held down

by unfulfilled dreams remembered,

floating above her tattered gown.



Published in;
Cyberwizard Productions

http://www.helium.com/users/406242.html
http://www.associatedcontent.com/user/237923/Kathy_stemke_dancekam.html
http://kathystemke.weebly.com

POEM NOMINATED-PLEASE VOTE!

My poem, "An Empty Stage" has been nominated by the Predators and Editors Poll. Please take a minute to read it, then follow the link if you want to vote for me.

Come back tomorrow for more on author Harry Gilleland and his book, "Poetic Musings of an Old Fat Man."

AN EMPTY STAGE


Coiled torso frozen on an empty stage,

a living sculpture trapped and placed

with no gown of tulle to hide her age

but with weeping knees below her waist.



Framed in light her insides groan

with pent up passion poised for release,

she now waits long and alone

for rhythm to carry her into peace.



But I remember her unencumbered

prance, so light for one who was held down

by unfulfilled dreams remembered,

floating above her tattered gown.



Kathy Stemke 2008



Thanks, God bless! Click here to vote: http://www.critters.org/predpoll/poem.shtml


http://www.helium.com/users/406242.html

http://www.associatedcontent.com/user/237923/Kathy_stemke_dancekam.html

http://kathystemke.weebly.com

A CHILD'S CHRISTMAS MEMORY

Merry Christmas to all my bloggers. Here's a poem I wrote about Christmas as a child growing up in Long Island, NY.

I remember, I remember,
the Christmas days of old,
when tiny lights and tinsel hung
on greenery untold.

The night before I tossed and turned,
and sleep was not my friend.
Awake, I counted stars and stars,
and seconds to the end.

I tiptoed down the stairs at dawn,
so careful not to wake,
the house of kindly souls that give,
and often dreams did make.

My mother, she arranged the gifts
as if an artist would.
Each one had her mark of love,
like no other could.

Then noise I'd make, to wake the others,
and pretend I didn't dare.
And slowly one by one they'd wake,
with a zombie's stare.

Some coffee and my hopeful eyes
would rouse them to attention.
I offered each a gift I'd made,
with love as my intention.

Bows and paper would start to fly,
with excitement in the air.
The special gift I'd open next,
the one that was so rare.

Oh yes, it's here, the nursing cart,
for which I'd prayed so long.
With cap of white and cross displayed,
I'd heal the sick with song.

All sparkling clean and newly dressed,
it's off to church we'd flee.
To the Christ child's house we'd go,
to worship God with glee.

At evenings end, when day was done,
on my pillow I would rest,
and think about the gifts I'd come to love,
knowing God's gift, was the best.

http://www.helium.com/users/406242.html

http://www.associatedcontent.com/user/237923/Kathy_stemke_dancekam.html

http://kathystemke.weebly.com

ACTION CLOCK POEM!

MY ACTION ACTIVITY "CLOCK BOOK" IS COMING SOON!

I’m in the clock club, I’m OK. (Arms overhead make a circle)
I tick all night, and tick all day. (Marching, hands on hips)


I have two hands, and have a ball, (Marching, two hands out)
Because I have no arms at all. (Marching, hands behind back)


My minute hand, moves with such power, (Standing, circle arm quickly)
with sixty minutes in every hour. (Standing, circle arm quickly)


My hour hand just isn't as fast, (Standing, circle arm slowly)
In a big race, it comes in last. (Standing, circle arm slowly)


Quarter past, half past, in there place (Point arm to the left, then down)
Quarter to, o'clock on the face. (arm right, then up)


Twenty-four hours makes just one day, (Arms overhead make a circle)
There’s always time for us to play! (jump in place)

Number Writing and Recognition

There are only ten digits that repeat themselves to make all numbers. It's essential for children to learn how to write and identify these digits. Children will enjoy reciting the following poem that explains how to write each digit. You can tape large numbers on the floor, have the children walk on them the way they would write them, as they recite this poem.

NUMBER PRINTING POEM

Number 1 is like a stick
A straight line down
that's very quick!

For number 2
go right around
Then make a line
across the ground!

Go right around
What will it be?
Go round again
to make a 3!

Down and over
and down some more
That's the way
to make a 4!

Go down and around
Then you stop
Finish the 5
with a line on top!

Make a curve
Then a loop
There are no tricks
to making a 6!

Across the sky
and down from heaven
That's the way
to make a 7!

Make a "S"
And then don't wait
Climb up again
to make an 8!

Make a loop
And then a line
That's the way
to make a 9!

Make a 1
and then an "o"
10 are all your fingers
you know!

GOLF TEE NUMBERS
Use golf tees and foam board to practice forming numbers.

NUMBERED MUSICAL CHAIRS
Have the children walk around a line of chairs. Place a number on each chair. When the music stops, everyone sits on a chair and holds their number up. The children take turns identiying the numbers.

PINE CONE NUMBERS
Place poster board pine cones with numbers on the back onto a small Christmas tree. The children take turns grabbing a pine cone and identifying the number. For added fun everyone can jump in place to match the pine cone number. If you want an activity that can be done in their seat, the children can count out a number of objects to match the pine cone number. To take this activity to the next level, have a child pick two pine cone numbers for the class to add together.