THE FATHER GOOSE TREASURY OF POETRY: A Review and Giveaway Through Talking Story

 As promised last week, I'm back again with another marvelous poetry book by Charles Ghigna. But this time, it's not just one poem It is one hundred and one! THE FATHER GOOSE TREASURY OF POETRY (Schiffer Books: 2023) is divided into seven sections. There is one section for each season, plus "Home," "Animals," and "Poetry." In this blog, Charles talks about the process of how he decided which poems to include in the anthology-- as well as his favorite sweet treats.

REVIEW

Charles uses nature themes and a vivid imagination to write poetry that brings smiles to readers of all ages. The way he incorporates sensory imagery makes readers take notice of word choice and world details. 

Take this poem for example:

            White Butterflies

I like to watch the falling snow.

It puts on such a lovely show.

It looks like little veils of lace,

White butterflies upon my face. (p. 37)

I found three types of figurative language in this word picture--how many do you find? Highlight the following phrase for the answer. personification, simile, metaphor).

Or, how about this sing-song poem with its unique way of rhyming? This one reminds me of how Charles listened to music as a child--you can almost hear the music behind his words.

The title itself makes me laugh and the illustrations of trees dancing in the wind compliment the poem perfectly. Look closely at the cloud and goose and you'll see collage elements that illustrator Sara Brezzi incorporated.

"Morning Rain" reminds me of one of my childhood favorites, Robert Louis Stevenson's A Child's Garden of Verses. (Does anyone else remember the "Land of Counterpane"? I was pleased to find out that Charles and I both read this book as children!)

           Morning Rain

Like a shadow

Passing by,

Storm clouds

Fill the morning sky,

From my window

I see wonder,

A lightning strike,

A clap of thunder.

I sit beside

The window pane

And watch the world

Fill up with rain.  (p.21)

Many of Charles' poems are playful,

            Thunder Bugs

On stormy nights

I often wonder,

Do lightning bugs

Make the thunder? (p.59)

Some are thought-provoking:

                 

      Orion's Way

 

Each evening

he enters

the black forest

of night

and spreads

his star crumbs

across the sky

to find his way

back home.  (p. 29)

And, 

In honor of the Talking Story issue on wordplay, I had to share this one:

       Wild Romance

I love EWE

I'm not LION

I really GOPHER you.

I never GNU this would happen.

You are so DEER to me.

It's more than I can BEAR.

Let us SEAL our love with a kiss.

I will always BEE yours.

I will never have any EGRETS.

You are my one and only GULL.

OWL always love you. (p. 101)

CURRICULUM RESOURCE and GIVEAWAY

Parents, grandparents, teachers, and librarians--don't miss the opportunity to add this book to your collection! It's a wonderful read-aloud as well as an opportunity to teach figurative language.

Leave one comment here for one chance to win this book. Leave another through Talking Story for a second chance. On the far right column, you'll see an email address to enter four giveaways. Click on the link and let me know which book you are most interested in winning. (I try to honor requests-but I can't guarantee what Random.org picks!). U.S. addresses only. The giveaway ends on July 15th.

Congratulations to Gail Cartee who won A Poem is a Firefly from last week's blog.

Loving vs. Virginia: A Review and Autographed ARC Giveaway!

Congratulations to Connie Saunders for winning AUDACITY JONES STEALS THE SHOW.

Loving vs. Virginia (Chronicle Books, February 2017)  by Patricia Hruby Powell is more than just a book about the interracial couple who challenged Virginia's anti-miscegenation law. It is a documentary novel, which combines free verse, black and white illustrations by Shadra Strickland in the Visual Journalism style, period photographs, and copies of civil rights documents. The net result is a book which will teach middle and high school students about the black struggle for equal rights. 

As I often do when reviewing free verse novels, here are excerpts from some poems that show Mildred and Richard's love and struggles. These quotes speak for themselves; Powell's poignant verse intimately connects the characters with the reader.

MILDRED
(this is in the middle of a poem about a community gathering at Mildred's house. Fall 1952)

One of the fathers calls
a square dance
and everyone joins in.
Otha dances
Mama dances
Lewis dances
I surely dance.
Some of the big boys dance.
Mr. and Mrs. Loving--
eyes fastened on each other
even when they've been passed
to the next person--
their names are
Twilley and Lola.
I love their names. 
But we call them
Mr. and Mrs. Loving
of course.
And they pretty much are.

If I stop and watch
I see young and old--
Indians, Negroes, Whites--
all mixed together. 
Everyone likes each other 
in our neighborhood.
Everyone dancing
TOGETHER.

Whites and coloreds--
we go to different schools--
to different churches,
drink from different water fountains.
But our section is different.

My world is right here
in Central Point.
That's what it's called.
Central Point,
the center
of my universe.
My family.
My world. (p. 27-28)


RICHARD
(In this poem Richard hitches a ride from his black friend, Ray. The local sheriff pulls them over. Fall 1952)

Me, I'm white, but my daddy,
he drives a truck for P.E. Boyd Byrd--
maybe the richest roundest jolliest "colored" farmer in the section.
In other parts, a white man working for a colored man--
that would be unusual.
But that's how it is here in Central Point.

Sheriff don't like this one lousy bit.
White man puts hisself beneath a colored man?
Workin' for him?
Worse than being colored, right, Sheriff?
'Course I didn't say that.
Just thinkin'.

Sheriff looked like he was chewin' on his teeth,
kept turnin' over that itty-bitty license,
trying to figure out what mean thing he could to us.
We wait quiet
while he walked back to his car.

To Sheriff Brooks there are only two races--
white and colored.
In all of Virginia, just two races--
white and colored.

We know Sheriff ain't done with us,
but he let us of for now. (p. 31-32)

MILDRED
(This poem touched me since Mildred reflects on the two of them being seen in public together. She alludes to how some folks have passed and left their community. This theme is echoed in Half-Truths. July, 1956)

Richard once said,
      "It could be worse, Bean.
       If you was the white one
       and I was the colored one,
       people saw us together?
       They'd lynch me.
       We can do this."

I'm not really dark--
'bout the color of a grocery sack--
and I have good hair,
but I surely
couldn't
pass.
There are plenty of people
from our section,
who are mixed like I am--
and one day,
when they're grown,
they leave home
and never ever
come back.
And we know they
passed
into white society--
away from 
where everyone knows you,
where everyone truly
cares about you.
I feel sorry for them
who pass-
and don't come
home. (p. 82-3)

MILDRED
(after Mildred is denied access to a dance. October, 1956)

The moment they said,
No, you can't go in,
he saw--
I know he really saw--
what it is 
to be colored.
...............
His face folds up
He steps out of the car.
I wail.
He's gone what feels like
forever
in the dark.

I'm in the car whimpering.

He comes back.

Drives me home. (p. 93-94)

RICHARD
(This is after Mildred gets pregnant with their second child. May, 1958)

Ray said, You can't marry a colored girl. Not in Virginia. 
     "You're white, Man. Did you forget that?

I told him, "We'll do the marrying in D.C.

He said, "For godsakes, Man, live next door to her,
        if you have to be big about it.
        Look at Farmer.

In our section
white man named Farmer
set up his colored woman in a little house
and he lived next door.
They have a mess of kids.
Everyone knows, but no one says.
All his kids take her name and when they grow up, they
leave--
pass as white people.
Somewhere.
Away from here.

Farmer didn't want to rock the boat.

Millie deserves better.
I called Ray a pig. I called him worse than that. 
.......
Ray said, You are dreamin'. You been rockin' Sheriff's
      racial hatred
      a long time--
      pretending all y'all ain't no different,
      everyone the same.
      Race mixing?
      That ain't gonna slide in Caroline County. (p. 113-114)

MILDRED
(After their second child is born, October 1958)

I stand before Justice of the Peace
Edward Stehl III
in the Bowling Green courthouse.
I am told I acted
"unlawfully and feloniously"
by marrying a white man.
Our lawyer, Mr. Beazley,
advises me to plead
NOT GUILTY,
just like Richard did
at his hearing in July.

And then I go home
to my baby
and little Sidney.
You'd think that 
they'd want 
us to be married,
what with a child and all.

But it's our beautiful brown baby
that is the problem.
This perfect baby is the result
of race mixing.
This child is the very reason
they don't want us married. (p. 147-148)

RICHARD
(After Mildred wrote to Bobby Kennedy and the ACLU, Mr. Cohen, a lawyer called them. September, 1963)

We went to the lawyer's little office--
nothin' fancy--
and talk and talk and talk.
He said something like,
      I think we can win, but it will be a long process.

     More than a month? Why?
     We just want to live as husband endwise in Virginia.
What is so difficult about that?

Mildred put her hand on my wrist.

Then he said,
      If you were to go back to Virginia together--
     get rearrested-
     that might be a good way
     to get this back in the courts.

This guy is complete nuts.
Mildred grabbed hold of my hand
real tight--
like she thought I'd get up and walk out. (p.188)

********

Nine years after Mildred and Richard were married, in the famous Loving vs. Virginia case, Chief Justice Warren and the eight associate justices ruled unanimously that marriage between members of different races was not unconstitutional, thus ending all race-based legal restrictions on marriage.

Mildred and Richard went home.

Illustration by Shadra Strickland

        ********

I have an autographed ARC to give to one fortunate reader. If you are new to my blog, share this on social media, or are a teacher/home school educator and plan to use this in your classroom, please let me know and I'll put your name in twice. Giveaway ends February 24th. 


Please see this interview with Powell that provides some of the backstory for this book; and an interview with Strickland with glimpses into her studio and this book.

Carver: A Life in Poems

Every once awhile I come across a book that I can't bear to give away. I'm sorry friends, but Carver by Marilyn Nelson, (Boyds Mills Press, 2001) is a book that is staying on my shelf. 

Like me, many of you probably know some of the basics about George Washington Carver's life. You may know he was born a slave in Missouri about 1864, started the agricultural department at Tuskegee Institute, and developed new uses for peanuts, cowpeas, and sweet potatoes in his desire to help poor farmers combat poverty.

Tuskegee Institute, 1916
 https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=685224

But what you probably don't know is that besides being a scientist, inventor, and botanist; he loved to sew, paint, play piano, and read his Bible. Although he never married or had children, for 47 years at Tuskegee he taught multitudes of students, personally corresponded with countless farmers who sought his help, and left a legacy of information and inspiration.  

http://www.icr.org/article/science-man-god-george-washington-carver/

Award winning author Marilyn Nelson, tells Carver's story through beautiful poetry. Sometimes the poems are from Carver's point of view and his emotions and thoughts are so well portrayed that you feel as if you are inside his skin. Other poems are written from the point of view of people who interacted with him. All of them weave together well-researched details and build a narrative of Carver's life. 

Here are a few of my favorites, but please note that I had difficulty formatting the second, third and fourth poems and had to skip lines. There are no line spaces in the original. 

The Last Rose of Summer

The paper shakes so
the words are hard to read,
but what good is a singing range
from high D to three octaves below,
what good the bold step to a larger canvas
for the yucca on the easel now,
what good piano lessons paid for
with paintings, what good
a rosebud boutonniere if Jim 

        your brother  

            smallpox    (p. 24)

***************

Four a.m. in the Woods

Darkness softens, a thin

tissue of mist between trees. 

One by one the day's 

uncountable voices come out 

like twilight fireflies, like stars. 

The perceiving self sits 

with his back against bought bark, 

casting ten thousand questions into the future. 

As shadows take shape, the curtains part 

for the length of time it takes to grasp, 

and behold, the purpose of his 

life dawns on him. (p.25)

***********

Ruellia Noctiflora 

A colored man came running at me out of the woods 

last Sunday morning. 

The junior choir was going to be singing 

at Primitive Baptist over in Notasulga, 

and we were meeting early to practice. 

I remember wishing I was barefoot 

in the heavy, cool-looking dew. 

And suddenly this tall, rawbone wild man 

come puffing out of the woods, shouting 

Come see! Come see! 

Seemed like my mary janes just stuck 

to the gravel. Girl, my heart 

like to abandon ship! 

Then I saw by the long tin cylinder 

slung over his shoulder on a leather strap 

and his hoboish tweed jacket 

and the flower in his lapel 

that it was the Professor. 

He said, gesturing, 

his tan eyes a blazing, 

that last night, 

walking in the full moon light, 

he'd stumbled on  

a very rare specimen:

Ruellia noctiflora, 

the night-blooming wild petunia. 

Said he suddenly sensed a fragrance 

and a small white glistening. 

It was clearly a petunia: 

The yellow future beckoned 

from the lip of each tubular flower, 

a blaring star of frilly, tongue-like petals. 

He'd never seen this species before. 

As he tried to place it, 

its flowers gaped wider, 

catching the moonlight, 

suffusing the night with its scent. 

All night he watched it 

promise silent ecstasy to moths. 

If we hurried, I could see it 

before it closed to contemplate 

becoming seed. 

Hand in hand, we entered 

the light-spattered morning-dark woods. 

Where he pointed was only a white flower 

until I saw him seeing it. (p. 73-4)

********* 

My Beloved Friend 

Letter to Jim Hardwick, April 1924 

Your letter touched me deeply. How I wish 

I was more worthy of the things you say 

about me. I love you more dearly because 

you are of another race. God is using you 

to teach the world the brotherhood of man, 

the fatherhood of God. How sweet it is 

to let God purge our souls of ego and 

bitterness, and to have a little taste 

of heaven here on earth. I trust you will pray 

for me, that I get rid of my littleness. 

I did not have to learn to love you: You 

were chosen for me. I knew that the first 

time I saw you. It was the Christ in you, 

of course. (p. 86)

I read this book because I thought Carver could be an inspiration for Lillie, my African American character in Half-Truths. What I didn't expect, is how much Nelson's poetry and Carver's life would inspire me. 

Guest Instructor #2: Tameka Brown and a Giveaway!

Congratulations to Barbara Younger who was last week's winner of Emily Pearce's book, Isabel and the Miracle Baby. By the way, for those of you who are in the middle of that interesting/challenging/unavoidable time of your life called menopause, Barbara runs a fun and informative blog on the subject!

In this second blog featuring my guest instructors, Tameka Brown shares some advice with my Writing for Children class at Central Piedmont Community College.

Tameka is a FTM (full time mother) who started writing picture books because she enjoyed reading them with her three daughters. She studied the craft, joined SCBWI, and published her first book Around Our Way on Neighbor's Day in 2010.  That was followed by My Cold Plum Lemon Pie Bluesy Mood in 2013 which received the prestigious Charlotte Zolotow Honor award. Read more about how Tameka developed this book which shows a day's worth of emotions, in my previous blog about her.  She currently has another picture book out on submission and is mulling around other projects. 

• For picture book writers, sometimes getting an agent is tougher than getting a publisher. She and her agent, Jennifer Rofe at Andrea Brown Literary, sent out Around Our Way on Neighbor's Day for a year before it was purchased by Abrams.
• Bed time stories allow children to use their imagination as they come up with the pictures which accompany the stories.
• Young children practice pre-reading and fine motor skills as they pinch, grasp, and turn pages. 
• Publishers want books that children will pick up on their own-not just because their parents have picked it. 
• A good illustrator will dovetail his work with the author's. They'll add another layer of meaning to the book. For example, Shane Evans added gray swirls that showed Jamie's emotions when his mood turns black. (see sample illustrations by clicking on "Look Inside" here.)
• Many picture books are character driven (like the Fancy Nancy series) but so far, Tameka's books have been more literary, focusing on language and using free verse to tell her stories. 
• A moral should be written into a story so that the child draws it out herself. Stories should have a takeaway which shows the character's solving a problem herself and/or her growth. 
• Even if your book is first in a series, market it as an individual title. It needs to be able to stand alone. 
• As writers we need to make personal connections to our story. More than including details of real events from our lives, we want to insert the emotions we've experienced that may be universal to our readers.
• When you're asked if you are willing to revise, the answer should always be "Yes!" Around Our Way on Neighbor's Day started out as an ABC book--but didn't end up that way! 

To win an autographed copy of My Cold Plum Lemon Pie Bluesy Mood, please leave me a comment by April 25. Open to U.S. addresses only. Share this on your social media of choice or become a new follower and I'll enter your name twice!