Poetry with Kids

I read poetry with my boys last night. We undertook some pretty heavy prose; The Tyger by William Blake. Max (6 yrs) crinkled his forehead, thinking. As I finished the poem he smiled a crooked smile. Pleased, as any boy might be, with the fierce imagery. But a little confused too; clearly, he understood on some level that this poem has considerable depth. He made a comment that it rhymed and sounded scary. “That’s a wonderful observation”, I said. “I did you like it?” He nodded.

Beck (3 yrs) roared like a tiger, enjoying it in his own, age appropriate way.

Without bogging the six year old down in Blake’s beliefs of creation and religion, we discussed the poem on more simple terms. We spoke of the simultaneous beauty and danger of nature. How words have power to create vivid images and the meaning/use of metaphors.

We sat down with poetry before (light and fun "children's" poetry too) and each time I am reminded how important it is to develop this side of their literary appreciation. The creative license that is given to poets to work untethered by the regular laws of grammar and to use our language artfully, delights young minds and challenges us all to think outside the box. This morning, home sick from school, Max has been working on sounding out words and writing them down. I don’t think it will be too long before he writes the first poem of his own.