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Absolutely the only thing I can think of to say about St. Patrick’s Day is: avoid unnaturally green food.  But I’m excited about today’s post because I’ve been waiting for 3 weeks for the opportunity to share this poem by Jack Prelutsky: “I Found a Four-Leaf Clover.”  

Jack Prelutsky poems should definitely be read aloud to children (and adults).  He was the Poetry Foundation’s Children’s Poet Laureate from 2006-2008, and his work is a heap of fun (one of my favorites is “Be Glad Your Nose is On Your Face.”  Kids love that poem).

But what I’m even more excited about today is that when I was Googling background on Jack Prelutsky, an entry from a grade school in Sheboygan Falls, Wisconsin caught my eye.  It’s an essay that a boy named Joey wrote on the poem, “I Found a Four Leaf Clover” on March 16, 2007, and it’s called “A Four Leaf Clover.”   It’s a must read, especially the last sentence, in which Joey tells us the reasons why it’s important to know the message of this poem.  I’ve posted the link below, so read the poem first, then read the essay.  And Joey, whoever you are, thanks for the insights. 

I Found a Four-Leaf Clover

I found a four-leaf clover
and was happy with my find,
but with time to think it over,
I’ve entirely changed my mind.
I concealed it in my pocket,
safe inside a paper pad,
soon, much swifter than a rocket,
my good fortune turned to bad. 

      I smashed my fingers in a door,
      I dropped a dozen eggs,      
      I slipped and tumbled to the floor,
      a dog nipped both my legs,
      my ring slid down the bathtub drain,
      my pen leaked on my shirt,
      I barked my shin, I missed my train,
      I sat on my dessert.

I broke my brand-new glasses,
and I couldn’t find my keys,
I stepped in spilled molasses,
and was stung by angry bees.
When the kitten ripped the curtain,
and the toast burst into flame,
I was absolutely certain
that the clover was to blame. 

       I buried it discreetly      
       in the middle of a field,
       now my luck has changed completely,
       and my wounds have almost healed.
       If I ever find another,
       I will simply let it be,
       or I’ll give it to my brother—
       he deserves it more than me.

Jack Prelutsky

“A Four Leaf Clover,” by Joey, Sheboygan Falls, WI   (an excerpt–“The message in this poem is important for others to know because if they think that they will always get they way they will never know that life does not always work the way you want it to. So I think that the message should be told to others”).

Project ‘Spread Cheer @ Work:’ A Disappointing Start

One of the books that has been, to steal a phrase from Jennifer’s comment on yesterday’s post, an oxygen mask for me lately is The Artist in the Office: How to Creatively Survive and Thrive Seven Days a Week (or AITO for those in the know) by Summer Pierre.  AITO started out as a handmade ‘zine, motivated, as I understand it, partly by boredom and frustration, and partly by the desire to speak to everyone who feels like they are living two lives: their “wage slave” life and their creative life: “Day after day, this is how it goes: You get up, go to work–and save your ‘real’ self for the cracks and corners of your off time.  Your 9-5 work might pay the bills, but if it’s not giving you an outlet for your pent-up creativity, it’s time to make a change” (from the back cover).  The ‘zine was a hit, and is now a real live book, available on Amazon and other real live book selling places.   

Continue reading “Project ‘Spread Cheer @ Work:’ A Disappointing Start”

The (Real) Secret to Being Happy

Sometimes complete strangers say things that can change your whole life.  That is not what this post is about, though.  This post is about something that happened to me several years ago on a flight from Newark to Chicago, where I was sitting next to an older Asian man who, out of nowhere, turned to me and asked, “Do you want to know the secret to being happy?”  As I happened to be wondering exactly that thing at exactly that moment, I said yes, I would indeed like to know the secret to being happy.  I can still see him, silhouetted by that white above-the-clouds light that comes through the windows on planes.  I turned my body towards him, he raised his index finger and said, “There are three things.”  And that, my friends, is all she wrote.  I don’t remember what he told me.  I FORGOT whatever it was he said. 

Continue reading “The (Real) Secret to Being Happy”

We Are Not Alone

My father-in-law, who is wise and insightful, recently posted a comment on my post, “Sit. Feast on your life,” which included a poem by Derek Walcott.  He (my father-in-law, that is) wrote:  “The personal pronoun ‘we’ says: You are not alone, we belong together.  And that’s what I wanted to add to your consideration: Don’t only look into the mirror to see yourself but look around you to recognize all the people who love you or hate you. You are connected to them in good and in bad hours. That’s what gives life to your life.”

He posted this for me to consider so I have been considering it.  And it put me in mind of a David Whyte poem called “Everything is Waiting for You,” which I would like to share with you today.

Continue reading “We Are Not Alone”

it’s the little sins god punishes right away

A few nights ago, in these days before Christmas, I was driving through the downtown streets of the small city where I live, and I saw a woman looking into the window of a resale furniture shop. It was evening, and she was standing in a circle of light from a street lamp wearing a black coat and a long purple scarf. She was looking in the window as if she really wanted whatever was inside, leaning in towards the display with her face close to the glass. I watched her as I sat stopped at a red light, and then in my rear view mirror until I couldn’t see her anymore.

I can’t remember the last time I saw an adult look at something with such unashamed wanting. With young children, you get used to naked displays of desire. There’s never a moment when my kids don’t want something, desperately, and I don’t mean care or attention, I mean actual things. But as adults, you try to learn moderation, control. I once tried to explain to my oldest son, who is 10 and fierce with wanting, that it was “okay to want things, that everyone wants things, but most of the time, we have everything that we need.” I said this in a kindly, enlightened voice, and he, through gritted teeth, said, “But it’s never all in the same place at the same time!”

Continue reading “it’s the little sins god punishes right away”

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