I Forgot the Poems, So Here They Are:

Another Spring: A Pantoume

 

If I never see another spring–

the green thrusts of daffodils,

the violin curl of ferns–

I will still remember them.

 

The green thrusts of daffodils,

the scatter of crocuses.

I will still remember them

when I am under earth.

 

The scatter of crocuses,

like children in a playground,

when I am under earth

will still look the same:

 

like children in a playground.

The violin curl of ferns

will still look the same

(even if I never see another spring).

 

©2013 Jane Yolen all rights reserved

 

 

Intimations of Spring

 

Yes, snow blankets meadows.

Yes, the wind is chill.

Yes, branches are all bare of buds.

And still. . .and still. . .

 

Color tinges twigs,

birds chorus at the dawn,

the sun is rising early,

my heart goes on.

 

©2013  Jane Yolen all rights reserved

 

The Coral Lesson

The coral does

its sexy dance

when moonbeams lead it

to romance.

 

In this short poem

there is a moral:

be as receptive

as the coral.

 

©2013 JAne Yolen all rights reserved

Dec 18-March 8, 2012-2013:

No, I didn’t die in the intersticies, though three of my old friends did, two of them quite suddenly and unexpectedly. And to say I am embarrassed by the length of time since I last posted is to understate the obvious. But as there is no way I can adequately catch up, I will do it in shorthand, with a poem or two to ease the pain.

There were holiday family visits, of course, and a fancy dress New Year’s eve party at Holly and Theo Black’s that we all attended. There has been snow–both one huge storm and a lot of light stuff. I had another plumbing disaster but nowhere near as expensive or debilitating or prolonged as the last. Am having a few minor medical adjustments and a cholesterol overhaul. I have given both well-attended readings and speeches, and miserable ones. Well-attended–always better.

I caught that sinus/cough/sore throat thing making the rounds, the not-flu (and yes! I had my flu shot, thanks very much!) It has lasted over three weeks. So I had to miss doing the narration for two violin poems (from the Chagall book) and my Johnny Appleseed set to music by Jerry Noble and performed at Smith but went to hear Jerry’s wife Cara nobly stepping in at the last moment, and loved it though all the while I was trying to suck on enough cough drops not to disrupt the performance.

But mostly the almost-three month hiatus from my journal has been about writing, editing, rewriting, and being surprised by stories, poems, and editorial decisions.

Quickly: the children and I finished up the complete draft (and then I edited, and Heidi will be doing the second edit) of our book of true animal stories for National Geographic. I wrote and–within days–sold a Holocaust picture book set first in Paris, then in the forest with partisans, finally in England where the family escapes–to Philomel. It’s called The Stone Angel. Almost as quickly I sold a picture book about a beached whale to Candlewick, The Stranded Whale. I finished the revision on the centaur novel, now called Centaur Rising. I sold a short story that ties into my novel Except the Queen, a bunch of poems, continued my poem-a-day project, this year bringing on subscribers who get each day’s poem by mail, the only proviso being they buy a book of mine or borrow one from the library.

I wrote another picture book about Abigail and John Adams moving into the White House, which is about to get sent out. Adam and I have gotten to chapter 8 of our second Seelie Wars novel. I am working on several speeches. Have sold four adult poetry collections. Three are short–approxmately twelve poems in each–for “envelope” books on Maiden/Mother/Crone theme as well as The Trees Commit, a book of poems on writing. It’s been a whirlwind.

A poem of mine will be featured on a sign board at a Pennsylvania park at the duck pond. A ballet of Owl Moon is being performed this week and the next two weeks as well in a Minneapolis suburb. A stage production of Devil’s Arithmetic is being prepared. Some great reviews on the new books: Bad Girls, Jewish Fairy Tales Feasts, Curse of the Thirteenth Fey, B.U.G., Wee Rhymes, and Grumbles from the Forest. Lots of interviews, especially on the first two books.

Not much to write about for three months absence? Well, that’s because all the writing has gone into the book and stories and poems.

I beg your forgiveness, dear readers, and your indulgence.

 

 

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