07/11/2025
Tekoa’s Poetry Acknowledgment Page.
After moving for the seventh time in ten years of marriage, I found myself packing yet again. Tucked inside dusty boxes were poetry notebooks and tiny scraps of crinkled paper—scribbled thoughts from years past. As I unfolded each piece, I rediscovered not just my words, but pieces of myself. That’s when I decided to publish this collection for those who still cherish the art of poetry.
My love for poetry began in the fifth grade. I was assigned to write a poem about spring, and I’d never been so excited about a homework assignment in my life. My Aunt Sophia, a poet and weekly columnist in Ann Arbor, Michigan, often visited our home in Kentucky and read aloud to me. I especially loved the children’s books that rhymed—the kind that made language bounce and sparkle. The gift of writing ran through my mother’s side of the family like a current—songwriters and storytellers who could hold an audience captive for hours.
I remember sitting under a tree, watching spring awaken, and writing my poem with awe and joy. But the next day, I was summoned to the principal’s office. My teacher, principal, and mother were all there. The teacher asked if I had plagiarized the poem—had I copied Emily Dickinson? She said firmly, “We know Tekoa didn’t write this, and we will find the real author.” I didn’t even understand the word plagiarism, but I understood the shame. And so, I stopped writing.
Decades later, at age thirty, I returned to school with an eleventh-grade education and met a professor named Jo Zausch. She encouraged me to enter a poetry contest honoring women, and I won first place. That memory rekindled a spark long buried. Since then, many others have nudged me gently toward the page, including my dear friend JoAnne Stanley, who lovingly called me a wordsmith even when I couldn’t see it.
While organizing this collection, I imagined my three sons—perhaps older now, with grey at their temples—sitting in the quiet morning light, sipping coffee and opening this book. I can see them smiling, maybe shaking their heads, maybe knowing me a little better because of these poems.
Words have always been faithful companions. Whether soft or firm, scholarly or simple, they hold the power to stir emotion, ignite memory, and bring healing. Like a vibrant kite soaring through the sky, our words can dance on the wind, dipping and rising with beauty and grace. At times, they tangle in branches or get caught on obstacles, but when the conditions are right—and the child within us still believes—they fly.
This book was once titled Flying Words Like a Kite, and though the name has changed to Kaleidoscope Words, the spirit remains the same: a swirling, colorful display of memory, metaphor, and meaning. These poems are primarily written in blank verse, interwoven with storytelling and the occasional rhyme. I’ve arranged them in sections to reflect their textures and emotional landscapes.
It is my hope that these poems speak to your soul—and that something inside you takes flight.
Blessings,
Tekoa (Bonnie) Manning