Last night I dreamed that I was back at school.
When I wrote that sentence, I realized two things. One was that it made me think of Rebecca. Google helped me find out that the opening sentence of that novel is "Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again."
The second thing I realized was that my sentence was in iambic pentameter. Before I knew it, I had written the first draft of a sonnet!
Writing is unpredictable. The other day I sat down to write about my children, and summer, and it ended up being about the meaning of home and memory, and I cried, and typed, and deleted, and wrote for two hours, and produced six short paragraphs that had a few flashes of potential, but not a whole lot. Today I wrote a sonnet in no time flat. Something to remember when I go back to my classroom and face students whose writing progresses slowly.
It is way too early to be having stress dreams about school, but I did have fun writing this, and I'm happy to share it with you. I hope your summer day is lovely and restful, or lovely and productive, depending on what's ahead of you today.
Last night I dreamed that I was back at school,
The summer ended just as it’s begun.
Instead of resting calmly by a pool
I faced inspectors, glaring, every one.
They filed into the classroom, looking stern
Eager to find infractions everywhere
And I, instead of helping students learn
Sweated and fretted, squirming in my chair.
And in my dream I saw no student faces
Not bored or giggling, cheerful or morose.
Instead, there were sad grownups in their places
And disapproval wrinkled up each nose.
I was so happy when I woke today
And found I still have six more weeks to play!
Heidi has the roundup, so go see what yummy summer poems everyone is sharing!
19 minutes ago