Poetry projects for kids:  Haikus

“Haiku” is a traditional form of Japanese poetry.  Haiku poems consist of 3 lines.  The first and last lines of a Haiku have 5 syllables and the middle line has 7 syllables.  The lines rarely rhyme.

I am first with five
Then seven in the middle —
Five again to end.

Because Haikus are such short poems, they are usually written about things that are recognizable to the reader.  Animals and seasons are examples of recognizable topics children might enjoy exploring.

What am I? Haikus:

The most popular Haiku exercise I have found for children is a “What am I?” Haiku.  These act like a riddle.  The writer uses the Haiku to describe something.  The other children in the class can then attempt to guess what the poet was describing after listening to or reading the Haiku.

The poem can be read aloud by the poet with their classmates guessing the answer after it is read or all the Haikus can be hung on the bulletin board giving everyone the chance to read and guess.

Here are two examples of “What am I?” Haikus:

Green and speckled legs,
Hop on logs and lily pads
Splash in cool water.


In a pouch I grow,
On a southern continent —
Strange creatures I know.




The Change – Scene 1


He looked tall, smart and handsome as he was standing on the podium. His deep-seated eyes sparkled with excitement. Though the silence was almost audible in the audience, he could hear the shells tremoring with expectation. He smiled with reassurance.
When it comes to change, he started, well, it is always a drag, isn’t it? He stopped for a moment. Somehow, change always comes at a bad time, and it is always somehow unwelcome. Change makes you feel uncomfortable because it seemingly pushes you in a direction you just don’t want to go.He looked around searching for nodding heads, but he could only see countless googly eyes staring at him with one single thought reflected in them: Is change really necessary? He took a big breath, ignored the uncomfortable silence and continued, hoping to make sense to all that is about to come.

Continue reading

The beginning

It was a beautiful morning. The Farm was buzzing with life and laughter. The Grease Factory’s chimneys were letting steam into the bright blue sky. The ElderFlower Brewery was full of sweet smell of juice. The BrainWeaver’s Level 2 pupils were letting their newly-made kites fly up high in the sky by the Great Pond. The Musical Tree was silent while the Vizu-Comm Ground was empty waiting for its first customers asking for the weather forecast or the latest news or a feature to play. The S-Ashram let out a faint hiss to remind people of the passing time. The life on the farm was calm and joyful … until …. a sudden spine-shivering scream broke the sweet melodies of the day coming from Granny Rosie’s house.

“Where is Baboon???”

Roomy and Leopold looked at each other with shame and worry in their eyes. They were the last ones who had seen Baboon earlier by the side of the Dark Forest while picking mushrooms. Grandma had left her by their care but she had ventured away from them and disappeared, probably, into the Dark Forest, the forbidden land. …

(Copyright material @ Spirit’nArtTM)

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Stories that shape our lives

“I started writing fiction in English. I’m not an immigrant, refugee or exile — they ask me why I do this — but the commute between languages gives me the chance to recreate myself. I love writing in Turkish, which to me is very poetic and very emotional, and I love writing in English, which to me is very mathematical and cerebral. So I feel connected to each language in a different way. For me, like millions of other people around the world today, English is an acquired language. When you’re a latecomer to a language, what happens is you live there with a continuous and perpetual frustration. As latecomers, we always want to say more, you know, crack better jokes, say better things, but we end up saying less because there’s a gap between the mind and the tongue. And that gap is very intimidating. But if we manage not to be frightened by it, it’s also stimulating. And this is what I discovered in Boston – that frustration was very stimulating.”