Poetry Friday

Signs of Spring

The laugh
of the brook
as it flows
to the sea,

The warmth
of the sun
and the bud
on the tree,

The song
of the bird
and the blue
of the sky--

Are nature's
sure signs
cold winter's
gone by.

--May Frost Stover


When I was nine years old my grandmother gave me a book of poetry by Michigan poet, May Frost Stover. The title is "Snores" and Other Poems for Children. This author is no longer living, her book is long out of print, but she was the first author I ever wrote a letter to. I recently came across the postcard she sent me in return.

She thanked me for my comments on her poems and encouraged me to keep writing stories and plays. As a nine year old, to have a "real" author take me seriously evoked much awe. I've had many "real" authors urge me on me since then, but Ms. Stover's encouragement stands out in my mind compared to similar adult experiences. It is a little golden childhood moment, polished even shinier with remembering, I suppose. This is why I write for kids. The art of growing up is a struggle. To potentially affect a childhood through art is an honor.