A Baker's Dozen
Fiddleheads and Other Poems for Children
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In the late 1970's and the early 1980's, we (Judy, Jen, Josh, and I) were enamored with the words of A.A. Milne, especially the collection of nursery rhymes entitled "Now We Are Six." On many a night, these were the last words Jen and Josh heard as they fell to sleep and into dreams. I was also struck by the fact that Milne was a veteran of both world wars. Somehow he was able to pull himself away from the first world war to immerse himself into a child's world. And write his whimsical poems. He is the inspiration for these poems you'll find in this collection. When Judy and I moved up to cent...
In the late 1970's and the early 1980's, we (Judy, Jen, Josh, and I) were enamored with the words of A.A. Milne, especially the collection of nursery rhymes entitled "Now We Are Six." On many a night, these were the last words Jen and Josh heard as they fell to sleep and into dreams. I was also struck by the fact that Milne was a veteran of both world wars. Somehow he was able to pull himself away from the first world war to immerse himself into a child's world. And write his whimsical poems. He is the inspiration for these poems you'll find in this collection. When Judy and I moved up to central Maine, we were looking for educational alternatives for Jen and Josh. We were very fortunate to find Carol Scribner's Village School. Carol was superintendent, principal, bus driver, and teacher for a school where the arts were as important as math and science. There were maybe a dozen students enrolled at one time pursuing Carol's elementary school and middle school curricula. Everyone, including the parents, flourished under Carol's watchful eye. When Jen and Josh moved into the public schools, I wrote this poem for Carol: TO CAROL: MY CHILDREN'S TEACHER AND THE MOON COULD BE A WISE FISHERWOMAN HAULING HER JEWELED NET THROUGH OUR SEAS AND YOU TOO COULD BE OF THE MOON HAVING PULLED YOUR TENDER WEB THROUGH MY SON AND DAUGHTER THESE PAST FIVE YEARS AND AS THE SEA FOLLOWING THE MOON FORMS THE SHORE SO HAVE YOU COME THROUGH THEM TO SHAPE ME Now decades later we are moving in and out of the worlds of our granddaughters, Xochitl and Iona. Their drawings and paintings adorn the pages of this collection, as they, while reading these poems, weave their way through the earlier lives of their mother and uncle. From one generation to the next the wonderful world of poetry builds bridges to carry us all through the years ahead. In that spirit, we have left the last baker's dozen of pages open for you, dear reader, to write in your own poems or to sketch in your own dreams. Enjoy! And then pass them on.......
