Haiku #16 – Mountain Mahogany

I heard about this plant, Mountain Mahogany, long before I ever saw it in person. When we finally saw one, a full-grown specimen, both my husband and I fell in love with it. The unique flowers/seeds were a bonus for me. When I look at the flowers my first thought is of those 4th of July sparklers I used to love as a kid…the ones where you would write your name in the night sky and watch it light up. It’s great evergreen bush to small tree and a terrific cover for wildlife.
The brainstorm

seeds burst into air
spring seed explosion
sunlit seeds explodes
seeds burst free
seeds pop in the sun
seeds burst in the sun
trails of white
white feathers
white streamers
stream of feathery white
feathery white stream
leaving a feathery white stream
with a feathery white stream
swirls of sparkling feathers
swirling, sparkling feathers float
nature’s hope for more
seeds burst in the sun
swirling, sparkling feathers fly
somewhere a child smiles

Mountain Mahogany
from exploding seeds
sparkling feathers light the sky
somewhere a child smiles

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 16, 2009

Thursday, April 16, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |9 Comments

Haiku #15 – Wax Myrtle

We fell in love with this California Wax Myrtle a few years ago when we were still in our rental house and planting our practice native garden. It’s a beautiful evergreen with glossy leaves and while it doesn’t get flashy flowers or fruits you can eat it does get these little waxy nutlets that are cherished by many birds, including Cedar Waxwings. I have never seen a Waxwing in person…not yet…but I so want to. At the Yerba Buena nursery there is an huge old Wax Myrtle next to the pond and you can stand under it and hear all the little tapping biting sounds of the birds feasting.

At the rental house we bought one Wax Myrtle and planted it in the little sideyard where we getting acquainted with native plants. We planted it against what was affectionately called the hell wall because it was the reflected heat all summer long. It died. Quickly even. No birds for me.

When we bought this house we knew we wanted to find a place for a Wax Myrtle. Turns out I found a place for seven of them along a fence line. I’m a little wiser now and planted them in the once section of the backyard that is getting any irrigation. They are still small but someday I hope they will be filled with birds.



The brainstorm
glossy green
hedge or tree
nitrogen fixing
improves soil
habitat improving
not pretty flowers
berries for birds
waxy nutlets
waxwings decorate the tree
decorated with birds
hidden in the branches
hidden in the tree
noisy birds
evergreen ever full of birds
birds hide, divide the berries
noisy birds hidden
behind evergreen branches
waxwings hide behind
waxwings feast behind
evergreen branches
evergreen leaves
the thicket of evergreen
quivering glossy green leaves

Wax Myrtle
waxwings feast behind
quivering glossy green leaves
worth the water? yes

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 15, 2009

Wednesday, April 15, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |4 Comments

Haiku #14 – The Wind

We are having some really, really high winds around here today and when I looked outside at the leaves and twigs and other things blowing around the yard I thought about the seeds and how the wind carries them from one home to the next like travelers looking to settle a new territory.

I don’t know how useful the brainstorms are so I haven’t posted that…just the poem.

The Wind
windy dancing day
tumbling, stumbling seeds
miracle to come

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 12, 2009

Tuesday, April 14, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |18 Comments

Haiku #13 – Painted Ladies

A few weeks ago we had an amazing adventure – thousands upon thousands of painted lady butterflies were in the midst of their migration and we were right in their path. I stood in the front yard and watched them zoom by in twos and threes every few seconds. They travel at just about head high and go straight, up and over, rather than around anything in their path.


I’m not pleased with this haiku yet. It hasn’t quite captured what I want but these are not yet finished pieces. They are more of a workshop.




Painted Ladies

iridescent flight
painted ladies on parade
vanish in the sun

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 13, 2009

Monday, April 13, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |12 Comments

Haiku #12 – California Pipevine

Isn’t this a funny looking flower? It’s called the California Pipevine and it is the ONLY host plant for the Pipevine Swallowtail butterfly. I have six of these in my yard though it is a long shot to ever get the butterfly to show up and lay some eggs as it’s been a while since they’ve been seen in my area. Still, if I don’t try, I won’t know.







looks like a pipe
smelly pipe
stinky fungus gnats
pollinating the pipevine
smelly like a pipe
smelly funny plant
foul smelling perfume
picky eater
picky eater butterfly
picky caterpillar

California Pipevine
caterpillar dines
an exclusive neighborhood
swallowtail appears

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 12

Sunday, April 12, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |8 Comments

Haiku #11 – Coyote Bush

Coyote Bush is one of those California native plants you either love or hate. I happen to love it. It’s dependable as all get out. It is huge on the wildlife value. But some people don’t like it. The Native Americans had many uses for this plant, from medicinal, to making arrow shaft, to building houses. They also called them “fuzzy wuzzy. “I love the seed heads. They look like feather dusters with long silky threads.

One of the most important jobs of this plant is to serve as a nurse plant, sheltering young plants that need shade and protection until they are old enough to stand on their own and it’s a great soil fixer-upper too!




white silky angel hair
silky angel hair
fuzzy wuzzy seeds
nurse plant for degraded soil
nurse plants for baby acorns
nurse plant for tender seedling
reviving tired soil
exhausted soil
breathing life into tired soil
resurrecting tired soil
shelters baby oaks
sheltering young oaks

Coyote Bush
fuzzy wuzzy seeds
tired soil, revived, made new
shelters baby oaks

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 11, 2009

Saturday, April 11, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |8 Comments

Haiku #10 – Fuschia-flowered gooseberry

There’s one thing you should know about this plant before you plant it in your garden – it actually shows up on lists of plants you should consider for security purposes around house. Roses have nothing compared to the thorns on these babies. We have three of them planted next to the house of evil. It’s a beautiful plant with long, tubular flowers which are pollinated by hummingbirds.







The brainstorm
pink pendants hang low
pink ladies wait
pink necklace
protected by the thorns
protected by thorny swords
sweet nectar
thorny swords guard the nectar
no fear
no deer
hummers have no fear
pink pendants hang low
thorny swords guard sweet nectar
painted pink ladies beckon
hummers have no fear

Fuschia-flowered gooseberry
thorns guard sweet nectar
only the brave win reward
hummers have no fear

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 10, 2009

Friday, April 10, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |13 Comments

Haiku #9 – Woolly Blue Curls

This is another one of my very favorite plants but I don’t have it in my garden. I didn’t think there was room for it. Only now, after I have planted something else in the one spot that it could have gone, do I realize how much I miss it. I may have to sacrifice the other plant that is there just so I can find a place for this beauty. Trichostema lanatum, Woolly Blue Curls, wants to be left alone on a hill of perfect drainage and absolutely no summer water. Even then, sometimes it fails to thrive but it is worth the effort.

Tonight I just did a bunch of brainstorming and then picked through it to see what I could come up with. I started with the image of a dancer, a ballerina, as that’s what it reminds me of at first glance.








dancing ballerina
poised ballerina
waiting ballerina
ballerina waits
ballerina preens
dancing ballerina waits
prima ballerina waits
ballerina plie
bees gather around
bees want to dance
plant on a hill and forget it
ignore it
left alone in summer sun
ignorance is bliss
waterless in the sun
native lavender
lavender blue
blue fuzzy
royal blue
royal blue fuzz
royal fuzzy blue
prima ballerina waits
ballerina dances
will soon arrive
dance in the chorus
dance all around
partnering with bees
dancing with the bees

Woolly Blue Curls
royal fuzzy blue
ballerina Arabesque
dancing with the bees

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 9, 2009

Thursday, April 9, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |9 Comments

Haiku #8 – Purple Needlegrass

I don’t have this in my yard yet, but I should since purple needlegrass is our state grass

I went to read up on it and learned (as I often do) even more fascinating things about the survival instincts of our native plants. It’s called needlegrass because the seeds are shaped like a torpedo and each seed has a long, thread-like awn attached making it look a lot like a needle and thread.

No brainstorming to speak of on this one. (I keep reminding myself that these are workshop haiku and I can revise to my heart’s content after April is over.)




Purple Needlegrass
roots twenty feet deep
live two hundred years or more
waiting out the drought

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 8, 2009

Wednesday, April 8, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |4 Comments

Haiku #7 – Catalina Ironwood

I asked my husband what one of his favorite plants were in the yard and he said Catalina Ironwood. I would have to agree with him. It is a magnificent looking tree and while we put two in the yard, I am still searching, wondering if I can find room for one more. They have a graceful fern-like leaves, reddish bark (at least at this young stage) and as they age and their trunks grow, the bark shreds into feathers that cling to the tree until the last possible moment when they fall to ground and create a beautiful leaf litter duff. In reading up on them I found that blue jays like to stash their food behind the bark and that alligator lizards tend to hide there too so sometimes, the blue jays get an unexpected live meal.

I knew I wanted to use the line about alligator lizards hiding there so then I brainstormed anything I could think of about the tree.




blue jays
hungry blue jays
search for food
no one is home
rusty slivers of bark
rusty feathers
rusty bark feathers
beneath the bark
behind feathered bark
feathered bark

I came up with two versions. I’m not sure which I like best.

Catalina Ironwood
beneath feathered bark
alligator lizards hide
shush, no one is home

Catalina Ironwood
beneath feathered bark
alligator lizards hide
blue jays go hungry

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 7, 2009

Tuesday, April 7, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |12 Comments

Haiku #6 – Poppies

One of my very favorite California Native plants is the poppy. I love the way they grow indiscriminately, in the dirt, in the mulch, in the cracks of a driveway. If you toss some seed out in the fall you can ignore it, let the winter rains do its thing, and come spring, the poppies burst forth.
poppy gold
poppy talk
poppies pop
pumpkin carrot orange
sea of pumpkin orange
sea of pumpkin orange
flowers leaves petals
circles wave
circles fly
flying saucers
flying saucers orbit yards

flying saucers orbit yards
pop up everywhere
welcome spring
poppies welcome spring
flying saucers welcome spring
say hello
poppies say hello
poppies say hello

sea of pumpkin orange
flying saucers orbit yards
poppies say hello

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 6, 2009

Monday, April 6, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |8 Comments

Haiku #5 – Dichondra

Okay, I’m cutting it a little bit close but there are still a few minutes left in today for my haiku. I spent the day on the patio in the backyard, no, not lazing around but planting my native dichondra in-between the stones that make up our informal patio. I have creeping thyme in-between some but the dichondra I have is native and I really like the look of it. I’ve been growing a flat of it for a while so I could have it to divy up in all the bare spot. Each little leaf looks like a miniature lily pad to me.







I got lucky with the first line.
between stepping stones
hugging the dirt
green carpet hugging the dirt
patches of green
hugging holding digging
carpet covers
green carpet covers the dirt

green carpet covers the dirt
round circles
green leaves
pond leaves
lily pad
lily pads for ants

lily pads for ants

between stepping stones
green carpet covers the dirt
lily pads for ants

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 5, 2009

Sunday, April 5, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , , |8 Comments

Haiku #4 – Sea Thrift

There’s still a little bit of today left for haiku #4.

I planted a flat of of Sea Thrift, little clusters of evergreen grasslike plants that shoot up long stems with little pink ball shaped flowers. They always make me think of popcorn balls.

sea thrift
pink balls
popcorn balls
pink popcorn balls
bright pink popcorn balls

bright pink popcorn balls

slender stems
roast in summer sun
roasting in the summer sun

wave fingers toward the sun

sea thrift is my name
hummers wait to drink
hummingbirds go by
hummingbirds will feast
hopeful hummers wait

hopeful hummers wait

Sea Thrift
bright pink popcorn balls
wave fingers toward the sun
hopeful hummers wait

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 4, 2009

Saturday, April 4, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |9 Comments

Haiku #3 – Concrete

I started thinking about what the yard looked like before we tore it all apart. It looked like, well, nothing you would call pretty. To start with there was concrete EVERYWHERE. The neighbors laughed at me when I told them we would remove the concrete strip next to the street. “Nothing will grow there,” they said. “We’ve lived here for 50 years. Nothing will grow.”

And I shrugged my shoulders and told them I had to try. And if I failed they would have a new story to tell about that crazy garden lady. Today I looked at what used to  be the concrete strip between the street and the sidewalk and I have Ceanothus in bloom, Bee’s Bliss sage and Lupines. The Cleveland Sage is full of buds and just waiting for its turn. The native Fuschia’s are gearing up too and I’m sure the hummingbirds are watching for those first red blooms.

The first thought that came to was concrete jungle but that was cliche and it really wasn’t true. What we had was a variety of concrete and aggregate, like little streams leading to the street.

concrete rivers

And what did they do? They hid things. They hid the dirt from me. They hid the dirt from the sun and the rain. They hid the seeds buried deep over many years under a sterile 6″ deep river of cement.

concrete rivers hide

It was the dirt I was thinking about now. About how, when we finally did remove the cement, there were piles and piles of dirt everywhere and the guy with the tractor wanted to take it away. “It’s just clay,” he said. “It’s no good for growing things.” Oh how wrong he was. Clay is rich in nutrients and holds the water well. Perfect environment for my native plant garden.

rich clay
soil seeds sun
rich clay waits for seeds and sun
feed me
hungers for the sun
rich clay soil hungers for the sun
needs sun and seeds and then
rich clay soil waits for seeds and sun
hungering, slumbering dirt
hungering, slumbering soil
hungering, slumbering clay

hungering, slumbering clay

I knew it was there – a beautiful garden – just like a sleeping princess, waiting for me to wake it up and bring it to life.

sleep sleepy sun  sleepy garden
under garden garden under wake up
gardens beneath the sea
let sleeping gardens wake
where sleeping gardens wait

sleeping gardens wait

concrete rivers hide
hungering, slumbering clay
sleeping gardens wait

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown April 3, 2009

Friday, April 3, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |15 Comments

Haiku #2 – Worms

This is post #2 relating to my personal poetry challenge for the month of April to write one haiku per day inspired by my native plant garden.

I have decided to post my poems for every day after chatting about it with two poets whom I admire very much, Laura Salas and Liz Scanlon Laura said something that I think is going to stick with me a long time, not just about poetry but about all writing. She said, “I work from a place of abundance.” Isn’t that just the best attitude? I also decided if I am going to talk about being brave, I need to be 100% brave and not just a little bit brave.

The inspiration for this poem came to me while I was outside watering a few of the newest plants in the garden. I was thinking about how happy it made me, when planting, to finally see worms in the dirt. When we first moved here the soil was so dead that we had no worms, (at least up high) no insect life in the ground at all (that we could see.) And I was thinking about the importance of worms, especially in this San Jose clay and how they churn up the dirt and leave these wonderful tunnels behind that help disburse the water underground. (They also leave worm poop behind and that’s another great thing for the garden.)

So this time the last line came to me first.

worms do all the work

And then I was stuck.

water water everywhere
even native plants need drinks
thirsty plants need water soon
roots wait for something to drink
thirsty roots cling to dry clay
water to the thirsty roots
bring water to thirsty roots

bring water to thirsty roots

And then the first line popped right into my head

underground tunnels

Which gave me a final poem of:

underground tunnels
bring water to thirsty roots
worms do all the work

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown
April 2, 2009

Thursday, April 2, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |9 Comments

Haiku #1 – Ceanothus

I did it. My first haiku for the month. Is it brilliant? No. But that’s okay. That’s what revision is for, right?

I must have gone to the front yard a dozen times today and wandered around the plants, looking for inspiration. No luck. Then I told myself to just pick a plant, any plant, and write about it. That didn’t work either. So I went back into the house, ate some tortilla chips and wished for something sweet to counter the salt.

When Cassie wanted to go out back, I went with her and watched her chase butterfly that landed in the Ray Hartman Ceanothus. And the first line came right up and settled in my mouth, filled with alliteration and imagery, two of my favorite elements and ones I am trying to learn how to use better. The second line was easy….I wrote what I saw. The final line is what needs work. It says what I want to say but it’s just blah….and it needs a punch line that says something on two layers. And I think that’s something that just needs time for pondering.

So here is what I wrote yesterday, or rather the evolution of it.

Whenever I see a Ceanothus in full bloom, the Ray Hartman, I always think of those purple popsicles we used to get when I was a kid, the twin pops that you had to break in half and share with someone else. So the first line came to me right away.

purple popsicles

Ceanothus is 4 syllables so I knew I needed to use it on the middle line or I would have no words left for anything else so first draft was

ceanothus in full bloom

And because the bees were buzzing around it like crazy I ended with this.

summer sweets for bees

So my first draft was:

purple popsicles
ceanothus in full bloom
summer sweets for bees

But it didn’t feel very good to me.

So I brainstormed middle lines

ceanothus blooms for sale
ceanothus blooms don’t melt
ceanothus opens shop
ceanothus sweet shop
ceanothus ice cream shop

Even though ceanothus ice cream shop doesn’t make a lot of sense I like the sound of it.

purple popsicles
ceanothus ice cream shop
summer sweets for bees

I wasn’t pleased with the ending because it’s not summer yet and they don’t bloom in the summer time.

More brainstorming.

summer sweets for bees
springtime feast for bees
springtime sweets for bees
bees line up to feast

And this is what I ended up with.

purple popsicles
ceanothus ice cream shop
bees line up to feast

@copyright Susan Taylor Brown 2009
April 1, 2009

Wednesday, April 1, 2009|Categories: National Poetry Month 2009, Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , |4 Comments

Getting Past the Fear

Before I had Cassie, I had Chelsie. The two dogs could not have been more different. Chelsie was afraid of everything, thunder and lighting, firecrackers, gunshot, most people (especially men) and sneezes. Yes, if you sneezed she would leave the room. Cassie is not afraid as much as she is cautious. But I would say she is cautiously optimistic because she is always willing to try new things. She might make a lot of racket about it, bark like crazy when she is unsure of herself, but she always tries.

For example, water. When we first got Cassie it was summer and I was out in the yard a lot. I noticed when I would water the plants she would stay far, far away. I’m guessing she got squirted with the hose as punishment or something before we got her.  So I got her a wading pool, put it out back, filled it with water, and tossed in a few toys. Then I ignored the water and her.

She ignored it too.

After a few days she was interested enough in the toys to stand by the edge and wait for them to float over so she could get them out. I pretended like I hadn’t noticed but later I put the toys back in the water. This went on for a few weeks until one day the toy she really, really wanted was in the center of the pool and no matter how long she waited, it wasn’t drifting over to the edge. So she put one foot in the water, stretched her neck out as far as possible, snatched that toy, and ran away.

I went in the house before I started to laugh.

It became her personal mission to get anything that went in the pool, back out of the pool. Toys, sticks, leaves and bugs. Anything that floated on the surface was fair game.

But there was one toy, one she really liked, that didn’t float. It sunk. Right down to the bottom of the pool under about 10 inches of water. She got really good at using her paw under water to move it to the edge and then up the side of the pool and back out again. Obviously the goal for her was not to get her pretty little face wet.

I had different goals. I wanted to see if she would decide to put her face in the water on her own. So I grabbed more toys that wouldn’t float and filled the pool with them. It took a lot of effort for her to work them over to the edge with her paw and it wasn’t quite as much fun on the 5th and 6th toy as it was on the first. By now she was quite comfortable just standing in the water so that’s what she did, stood in the pool, over her toy, and stared at me.

I stared back. I could almost see the little wheels turning in her brain. How badly did she really want that toy? What would happen to her if she put her head under the water? What would her human expect from her if she did this very scary thing?

I decided to ignore her. This was her battle, not mine. I went in the house and peered out from between the slatt of the shutters. After much internal deliberation Cassie shoved her nose under water, grabbed that toy, and jumped out of the pool. Her proud tail waving high like a flag annoucing her brave accomplishment.

What did I do? I went back outside and put all the toys back in the pool. And now diving for toys (and bugs) is one of Cassie’s most favorite things to do.

I think the key for Cassie was lots of exposure and no pressure. The same thing we need to do with our writing. When you want to write in an area you haven’t written in before you need to immerse yourself in it. If you want to write picture books you read 100, 200 of them before you even start. If you are switching to mysteries you read lots and lots of mysteries. And then you just dive in. You try. You pause. You try again. You put one foot in the water, then the other and before you know it, you are diving under and writing your first mystery from start to finish.

Today is the first day of National Poetry Month. There are so many wonderful events happening out there in the blogosphere and I was struggling with how I was going to participate. I’ve decided to challenge myself to write a poem a day, a haiku, inspired by my California Native Plant garden. I have long been a fan of haiku though much of what I have written of it was back in high school. I know the basic structure, 5-7-5 and the basic theme, nature. I like the idea that they are short but often many layered. I think haiku could be a wonderful way to introduce more people to native gardening.

This challenge is huge for me on several layers. I am fearful of anything new or looking silly while doing it. I am not a native plant expert so I will have to research oftentimes before I can write. And most of all because doing it, finding a way to combine poetry with my native garden, matters to me a great deal.

I changed my mind from my original post and I will be posting my daily haiku.

Shouldn’t I try to be as brave in my writing as Cassie was about water?

I think so.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009|Categories: Of Dogs and Writing|Tags: , , , |16 Comments

Poetry Friday – Haiku

It seemed like a good idea at the time – go through my folders of old writing from back in Junior High and High School and post an old poem or two for Poetry Friday. Then I started to read them. Oh my. They were bad. Some of them very bad. (And yet, I always got “A”s in class). The themes were easily categorized into:

I love you now and forever no matter what
(complete with product placements like Bic Click pens and historically correct details like tie-dyed t-shirts)

You broke my heart and I will never be whole again
(tear stains still quite evident even after almost 35 years)

(and how they helped heal my broken heart)

Hmmm. Not quite what I was looking for and I’m not anywhere near brave enough to share them. After a bit more digging I found some early haiku, (dating back to around 1971/1972 – 7th/8th grade) that doesn’t embarrass me too much to share here.


wet with morning dew
I watch the flowers open
early comes the dawn

a kite in the sky
and the sun is overhead
picnics can begin

flowers in the field
I silently stalk my prey
picking some for mom


My previous Poetry Friday entries can be found here:

Evolution of a poem from Hugging the Rock

Current WIP – Character update in a poem

Haiku to honor Poetry Friday

Thursday, June 15, 2006|Categories: Random|Tags: , |8 Comments

A Single Haiku

In honor of poetry Friday, a haiku that sums up my writing progress on MTLB.

Poetry lets me
stand naked wearing only
emotional threads

And fun stuff, the wonderful reading advocate Esme Codell of Planet Esme now has a blog! For those of us here at LJ, I’ve syndicated it at:planetesme so you can read her on your friends list.

More writing updates tonight.

Slight update – changed the last word of the haiku from clothes to threads (it was early and I had only drank a cup of coffee before posting!)

Also, I just checked on Amazon and the link to Hugging the Rock is up with the art! Yeah! Go ahead and pre-order now. You know you want to. 🙂

Really, I promise writing updates after work.

Friday, June 2, 2006|Categories: Susan's Original Poems|Tags: , , , |10 Comments

Happy Poetry Month! A list of verse novels

Last edited 10/25/2010

If I’ve missed one, please comment and let me know so I can add it to my master list. These are in order by title, not author, because that’s the way my brain works.

Count thus far 132!

42 Miles by Tracie Vaughn Zimmer
A Bad Boy Can Be Good for a Girl by Tanya Lee Stone
A Dangerous Girl by Catherine Bateson
A Lion’s Hunger: Poems of First Love by Ann Warren Turner
A Place Like This by Steven Herrick
After the Death of Anna Gonzales by Terri Fields
Aleutian Sparrow by Karen Hesse
All The Broken Pieces by Ann E. Burg
Almost Forever by Maria Testa
Amber Was Brave, Essie Was Smart by Vera B. Williams
Angel Of Barbican High by Michelle A. Taylor
Autobiography Of Red: a novel in verse by Anne Carson
Beanball by Gene Fehler
Because I Am Furniture by Thalia Chaltas
Becoming Joe DiMaggio by Maria Testa
Been To Yesterday: poems of a life by Lee Bennett Hopkins
Behind The Wheel by Janet S. Wong
Bird by Susan Hawthorne
Borrowed Names by Jeannine Atkins
The Braid by Helen Frost
Brains For Lunch: A Zombie Novel in Haiku?! by K. A. Holt and Gahan Wilson
Brimstone Journals by Ronald Koertge
Bronx Masquerade by Nikki Grimes
Brushing Mom’s Hair by Andrea Cheng
Burned by Ellen Hopkins
By The River by Steven Herrick
Call Me Maria by Judith Ortiz Cofer
Chasing Brooklyn by Lisa Schroeder
Crank by Ellen Hopkins
CrashBoomLove by Juan Felipe Herrara
Criss Cross by Lynne Rae Perkins
Crossing Stones by Helen Frost
Dark Sons by Nikki Grimes
Dead on Town Line by Leslie Connor
Diamond Willow by Helen Frost
Do-Wrong Ron by Steven Herrick
Escaping Tornado Season: a story in poems by Julie Williams
Fallout by Ellen Hopkins
Far from You by Lisa Schroeder
Fearless Fernie by Gary Soto
Foreign Exchange: a mystery in poems by Mel Glenn
Frenchtown Summer by Robert Cormier
The Fruit Bowl Project by Sarah Durkee
Geography of Girlhood by Kirsten Smith
Glass by Ellen Hopkins
Girl Coming in for a Landing by April Halprin Wayland
Girl_X recreated by Leanne Rowe
God Went to Beauty School by Cynthia Rylant
Hard Hit by Ann Turner
Hate that Cat by Sharon Creech
Heartbeat by Sharon Creech
Heaven Looks a Lot Like the Mall by Wendy Mass
Hold Me Tight by Lorie Ann Grover
Home of the Brave by K. A. Applegate
Hugging the Rock by Susan Taylor Brown
Identical by Ellen Hopkins
I Heart You, You Haunt Me by Lisa Schroeder
Impulse by Ellen Hopkins
Jinx by Margaret Wild
Judy Scuppernong by Brenda Seabrooke
Jump Ball: a basketball season in poems by Mel Glenn
Kaleidoscope Eyes by Jen Bryant
Keesha’s House by Helen Frost
Laurie Tells by Linda Lowery
Learning To Swim: a memoir by Ann Turner
Locomotion by Jacqueline Woodson
Loose Threads by Lorie Ann Grover
Love Ghosts and Nose Hair by Steven Herrick
Love That Dog by Sharon Creech
Make Lemonade by Virginia Euwer Wolff
Margaux with an X by Ron Koertge
North Of Everything by Craig Crist-Evans
Nothing by Robin Friedman
On Pointe: a novel by Lorie Ann Grover
One Night by Margaret Wild
One Of Those Hideous Books Where The Mother Dies by Sonya Sones
Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse
Pieces of Georgia by Jennifer Bryant
Poems From The Madhouse by Sandy Jeffs
Reaching for Sun by Tracie Vaughn Zimmer
Realm Of Possibility by David Levithan
Ringside 1925 by Jen Bryant
Rubber Houses by Ellen Yeomans
Running Back to Ludie by Angela Johnson
Scout by Christine Ford
Secret of Me by Meg Kearney
Seventeen by Liz Rosenberg
Shakespeare Bats Cleanup by Ron Koertge
Shakespeare Makes the Playoffs by Ron Koertge
Shark Girl by Kelly Bingham
Simple Gift by Steven Herrick
Sister Slam and the Poetic Motormouth Roadtrip by Linda Oatman High
Soda Jerk by Cynthia Rylant
Something About America by Maria Testa
Song of the Sparrow by Lisa Ann Sandell
Soul Moon Soup by Lindsay Lee Johnson
The Spangled Drongo by Steven Herrick
Spinning through the Universe by Helen Frost
Splintering by Eireann Corrigan
Split image:a story in poems by Mel Glenn
Stardust otel by Paul B. Janeczko
Street Love by Walter Dean Myers
Stop Pretending: What Happened When my Big Sister Went Crazy by Sonya Sones
The Surrender Tree: Poems of Cuba’s Struggle for Freedom by Margarita Engle
Sweetgrass Basket by Marlene Carvell
T4 a novel by Ann Clare LeZotte
Taking of Room 114 by Mel Glenn
Talking In The Dark by Billy Merrell
Things Left Unsaid by Stephanie Hemphill
Three Rivers Rising: A Novel of the Johnstown Flood by Jame Richards
Tom Jones Saves The World by Steven Herrick
The Trial by Jennifer Bryant
Tricks by Ellen Hopkins
True Believer by Virginia Euwer Wolff
Under The Pear Tree by Brenda Seabrooke
Volcano Boy:a novel in verse by Libby Hathorn
Voyage of the Arctic Tern by Hugh Montgomery
The Way a Door Closes by Hope Anita Smith
The Weight of the Sky by Lisa Ann Sandell
What My Girlfriend Doesn’t Know by Sonya Sones
What My Mother Doesn’t Know by Sonya Sones
Where the Steps Were by Andrea Cheng
Whitechurch by Chris Lynch
Who Killed Mr. Chippendale?: A Mystery in Poems by Mel Glenn
Who Will Tell My Brother? by Marlene Carvell
Wicked Girls: A Novel of the Salem Witch Trials by Stephanie Hemphill
Witness by Karen Hesse
Worlds Afire by Paul B. Janeczko
Yellow Star by Jennifer Roy
You Remind Me Of You by Eireann Corrigan
The Year it All Happened by Catherine Bateson
Your Own, Sylvia by Stephanie Hemphill

Saturday, April 1, 2006|Categories: Books|Tags: , , |33 Comments