Perfect pairing of words and art

Watercolours make moving poems come alive, Bernie Goedhart writes.

Climbing Shadows Shannon Bramer Illustrated by Cindy Derby Groundwood Books Age 6 and older

Picture books and stories are the obvious go-to choice when reading aloud to the very young, but it’s a wise parent/teacher who also chooses the occasional poem — even the non-rhyming kind. When read aloud with just the right expression, a poem can stay with a child well into adulthood. And a love of poetry, like an ear for music, can only enhance a child’s life.

Toronto’s Shannon Bramer knew that when she worked as a lunchroom supervisor in a kindergarten classroom.

“Within a few weeks of my working in the school we all got to know each other,” states her wonderful author’s note in Climbing Shadows, “and the students, aged four and five, learned that I was a writer. I explained to them that when I wasn’t in the classroom helping them with their con- tainers, mittens and zippers, I was at home … trying my best to create beautiful sentences.” Most of the kids, Bramer writes, found this “both mystifying and downright hilarious” and their reactions made her want to share poetry with them. So every Friday, “in the tiny window of time they had before going outside,” she read them favourite works by various poets, ultimately offering to write each of them a poem on a topic of their choosing. Many worked their way into Climbing Shadows, a stunning book of poems for children, scheduled to hit bookstores March 1.

Bramer’s evocative words are made even more memorable by the watercolours of San Francisco’s Cindy Derby. Subjects range from a tiny yellow house to skeletons, spiders, toy cars and rained-out birthday parties. A child’s lyrical ode to polka dots tells us she catches the sky “in this tin pot / the sound of rain is polka dots / one alone is just a dot / but lots and lots are polka dots …” Turn the page, however, and we get a more sombre verse. Titled Afterschool and accompanied by a poignant painting of a child perched on a bench beside a bright red school bag, a pale blue shadow at the child’s feet, we’re told: “I’m going to go home and tell my dad/today was hard /it was so hard/ idon’t want to go anymore/ iwant/ to be a puddle.”

Feelings abound in these verses, and it becomes clear that even four- and five-year-olds live complicated lives. Penelope’s Birthday, for example, describes the excitement of “a rusty old truck / full of balloons” that the birthday girl gets to set free. But come time for raspberry cake, it starts to rain and the kids all worry that Penelope might cry. She doesn’t, and our narrator tells us that next year, Penelope “wants her birthday / to be on a Tuesday again / I hope I’m still her friend.”

I love this book and already have favourite poems: When She Grows Up; The Snow Is Melting; Darkness Looks Like My Mom; A Question for Choying. Plus the ones I’ve already mentioned, of course.