We changed our perspective to write our poems this week — or should I say, we “lowered” our point of view. In choosing to write a children’s poem, we had tapped into our inner child and embraced these words. The results are varied and consistently well written. The BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS for this week:


What fun we had this week, didn’t we?  You all did a great job writing for children!  Several were exceptional, and should be sent out for publication.  For my bloom, I’ve chosen Kate Wilson’s “In the Wilds,” but could as easily have chosen her “Heartfelt Plea.”  It’s fun all the way through, with a great twist at the end.  What more would a kid want?  This should be set to a catchy, jingly tune and sung around campfires. 😉   When it comes to writing flawless fun for kids, it’s just hard to beat Kate.  Congratulations, K8e314!

In the Wilds (by Kate Wilson)

I’m the only one awake,
in the dark, dark tent,
in the tent, in the dark,
just me.

I’m the only one awake,
and I wish that I could sleep
but I can’t ’cause I really
have to—


My Uncle Jim is snoring,
so he must be sound asleep.
He’s louder than an angry

My brother Jack is mumbling
and my sister is a corpse.
Me? I really, really, really
have to—


Mom said that I could wake her
if I had to go outside,
and she’d hold the flashlight steady
just for me.

But I don’t think I’m a baby.
I can do this for myself,
since I am the only one
who needs to—


I fumble for my shoes
in the dark, dark tent.
Where’s the flashlight? No, that’s only
Annie’s knee.

There it is. Now I’m set,
and I—shh!—unzip the flap,
but I do so wish I didn’t
have to—


Oh, this flashlight’s awful dim,
and it’s cold out here, and dark,
and there’s funny noises whispering
to me.

But I’m brave and I’m bold
and the night can’t frighten me
’cause I very, very much do
need to—


I wish I could remember where
my uncle dug that pit.
I guess I’ll just go find
a friendly tree.

I hope nobody minds.
I haven’t got a choice.
It’s like that when you’ve really
got to—


What’s that light, in the distance,
over there? It calls to me.
I stumble through the bushes
just to see.

It’s a porch—our back porch!
Such relief! I am saved.
Maybe afterwards I’ll see
what’s on TV….


I had (have) this battle with my daughter on a recurring basis. It has been the subject of a few of my own poems. But to put a childish twist to it and the poem becomes this homage to all of our youthful days and the rooms that were our sanctuaries and personal space. “Clean Your Room!” by Pamela Smyk Cleary earns this honor.

Clean Your Room! (by Pamela Smyk Cleary)

“What a disaster!” I heard her shout.
“Straighten this room, if you want to go out!
These toys and clothes, please, pick them up!
(Can’t argue with Mom, so I just muttered, “yup.”)

’Straighten it up’ – that’s what she said –
so I kicked my laundry beneath the bed,
and all the stuffed toys (my collection is vast)
went into the closet – really fast.
The rest of the toys? Couldn’t help myself –
I jammed them tight onto each book shelf.

Then I called her back to inspect the place,
but I still wasn’t done. (I could tell by her face.)
“Clean clothes stacked on the bed can’t stay –
and the Legos and books must be all put away,
or no computer and no TV!”
(That’s the threat she offered me.)

But, my closet was crammed – couldn’t shut the door,
and my bookshelves? Full of toys galore!
So the clothes & books & Lego blocks
I stuffed inside my big toy box.

Then I called her back to inspect once more,
and she smiled and… I ran out the door.
“The place looks good!” That’s what she said.
(I hope she doesn’t look under the bed.)


A special nod to Erin Kay Hope for her consistently good work week after week. In writing the children’s poem, she had an advantage of being the closest to the subject than the rest of us, and even for a youthful poem, she exhibits a sense of maturity in her works.