. .   Good Morning!

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Welcome to The Coffee Shop, just for you early risers
on Monday mornings. This is an Open Thread forum,
so if you have an off-topic opinion burning a hole in
your brainpan, feel free to add a comment.

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Throw your dreams into space like a kite,
and you do not know what it will bring back,
a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.

– Anaïs Nin

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February 8^th  is Kite Flying Day in the U.S. There is also an International Kite Day on January 14, which has grown out of Uttarayan, a major kite festival in India which marks the beginning of summer there.

Kites date back to around 479 BC in China. At about the same time, South Sea islanders were using kites for fishing.

In the 13^th century, among the many things Marco Polo brought back from his long journey was a Chinese kite.

In 1752, Benjamin Franklin flew a kite during a thunderstorm, and collected ambient electrical charge in a Leyden jar, enabling him to demonstrate the connection between lightning and electricity.

The record for a kite staying aloft is 180 hours and 17 minutes. It was set in 1982 by a team from Edmunds Community College in Washington state.

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Flying Kite

by Frank Dempster Sherman

I often sit and wish that I
Could be a kite up in the sky,
And ride upon the breeze, and go
Whatever way it chanced to blow.
Then I could look beyond the town,
And see the river winding down,
And follow all the ships that sail
Like me before the merry gale,
Until at last with them I came
To some place with a foreign name.

“Flying Kite” from Little Folk Lyrics © 1897 by Frank Dempster Sherman – Houghton, Mifflin & Co

Frank Dempster Sherman (1860-1916) American poet, author and educator; Professor of Graphics in the Columbia School of Architecture (1904-1916). His books include Madrigals and Catches; Lyrics of Joy; and Lyrics For a Lute.

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When Pigs Fly

by Kenn Nesbitt

I’ve heard it said that pigs will fly
and someday soon they’ll rule the sky.
That may sound strange but, if it’s right,
I don’t suppose they’ll fly a kite.
I’ll bet, instead, they’ll have to train
so they can learn to fly a plane,
or join the Navy where they’ll get
to learn to fly a fighter jet.

Or maybe they’ll grow piggy wings,
or put on shoes with giant springs,
or fly in huge hot-air balloons,
or seaplanes with those big pontoons,
or biplanes like a flying ace,
or shuttles into outer space,
or rocket ships for trips to Mars,
or flying saucers to the stars.

However pigs decide to fly,
as long as they are way up high
and busy buzzing all around
instead of grunting on the ground,
I think it’s safe to say I’ll love
to see them soaring up above.
I’m sure I won’t be shocked or shaken.
Still, I’ll prob’ly miss the bacon.

“When Pigs Fly” from The Tighty Whitey Spider: And More Wacky Animal Poems I Totally Made Up,  © 2010 by Kenn Nesbitt – Jabberwocky/Sourcebooks

Kenn Nesbitt (1962 – ) was born in Berkeley, California. He is an American children’s
poet who has published many collections of poetry, including Kiss, Kiss Good Night, Revenge of the Lunch Ladies, and The Aliens Have Landed at Our School! In 2013, he was named Children’s Poet Laureate by the Poetry Foundation.

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Spring

by Robert McCracken

Today is the day when bold kites fly,
When cumulus clouds roar across the sky.
When robins return, when children cheer,
When light rain beckons spring to appear.

Today is the day when daffodils bloom,
Which children pick to fill the room,
Today is the day when grasses green,
When leaves burst forth for spring to be seen.

“Spring” from Spring: Themes, © 1988 by Robert McCracken and Marlene McCracken – Portage & Main Press

Robert McCracken is an American writer and poet, the co-author with Marlene McCracken of many books designed to help teachers teach children and ESL students reading and writing. Their books include Reading is Only the Tiger’s Tail, and the Tiger Cub reading series.

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The Making of Kites

by Sophia White

The world runs black with inken words
With all the thoughts of Men.
The seas churn froth with theories
Recurring time and again.

The hast’ning feet of philosophy
Run blind with slakeless thirst,
Pursuing answers ceaselessly
For fear their worlds should burst.

The hourglass is turned again
The glinting sands run thin.
All eyes looking endlessly
For ways out and ways in.

Thoughts turn inward, thoughts go out
A melee of jumbled sounds.
Men make kites of hopeful words,
But they never leave the ground.

© 2006 by Sophia White

Sophia White (1990 – ) American poet, living in the foothills of the Appalachian mountains, who began writing poetry in the 9^th grade. A collection of her poems was published as an e-book in 2010 by Poemhunter

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