One of the most enjoyable writing exercises I’ve done lately comes from a biographical poetry template based on a poem by George Ella Lyon. I came across it on Jeannine Quellette’s brilliant Substack, Writing in the Dark. The exercise is familiar to me in a distant way, as though perhaps I’d done it before but lost it. Or perhaps it suited me perfectly this past week because I have been contemplating writing memoir and fictionalized biography, so it seems as though I always had it—a poem about beginnings, and the echoes still heard, the lessons still being learned.
Thank you, Jeannine Quellette, for sharing the lesson! You can visit Jeannine’s website and read her poem, “From Chickweed to Ash,” here: https://writinginthedark.substack.com/p/from-chickweed-and-ash.
Here is my version:
Polished Maple Tables
I am from polished maple tables
From Pall Malls and Folgers
Green grass, Blue water, the whoosh of wind and wings
Flocks of seagulls
I am from Lilies of the Valley, Bleeding Hearts, Lake Michigan’s endless sand and waves
I’m from World War II, Ramblers, and Divorce
From Rachel and Frederick and William and Lorene
From Rae and Bill
I’m from long car rides and listening to albums on the stereo
From Mr. Wonderful and Stop Crying and What did you learn in school today?
I’m from no church, lost pets, and rented houses.
From a mother who scoffed at religious people
And a father who blamed organized religion
For the world’s woes.
But I’m also from Christmas trees and baking cookies, from bunnies and Easter baskets.
And I’m from the hand-written prayers I found in my father’s bedside table when he died.
I’m from Chicago and Kenosha
From Illinois, Wisconsin, and Minnesota
From Scots called Johnstone, and Swedes called Nelson
From ground beef casseroles, navy bean soup, and sour cream raisin pie
From Great Aunt Mary who broke up with her beau when he jumped into a fountain,
Never to wed, who lived with her sister Lorene’s family and then mine until The Divorce when she
Was sent back to Chicago to an old folk’s home
And Mother was hospitalized
I am from women who sewed and worked in libraries
and who cooked and cleaned other people’s houses.
And from men who sought love and adventure and worked on farms and in factories.
I am from Midwestern barefoot summers and sea glass and wandering the West
Restless and yearning for polished maple tables and a place to call home.
RLP, 2025
If you would like to write your own “I Am From” poem, here is the template. Use it as a springboard. Jump in and adjust it to suit. I hope the writing brings you joy, or something like joy, which is sometimes as simple as finding a way to express the inexpressible past.
Blessings! And please share your poems in the comments!
Template: I Am From
I am from ________________ (specific ordinary item)
From ____________ (product name) and _____________ (product name)
____________ (adjective), ______(adjective), _________ (sensory detail)
I am from _____________ (plant, flowers, natural item)
_______________________________________ (description of above item)
I’m from ______________ (family tradition) and _____________ (family trait)
From ___________ (name of family member) and ______________ (another family member)
I’m from the _______________ (description of family tendency) and ________ (another one)
From ______________ (something you were told as a child) and _________ (another)
I’m from __________________ (representation of religion or lack thereof), __________ (further description)
I’m from ___________________ (place of birth and family ancestry)
_______________________ (a food that represents your family), ___________ (another one)
From the ___________ (specific family story about a specific person and detail).
Dad, Lori, and Billy
Early Days in Kenosha
Thanks for visiting! Wishing you all good things. With Love, Lori
LakeArrowheadLadyWriter 
I love this! ❤️
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Thanks, Debbie Deb! I want to read yours!
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Love this. I wrote an “I am From” three years ago. I’ll try to paste the link.
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I would love to read it, Gloria!
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Hope this transfers .
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Yes! I remember reading this back when you first published it, Gloria! You are the glorious echo I dimly remembered. 💞 Your poem is beautiful.
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👍
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Wow – what an incredible format. Love Great Aunt Mary! What a fascinating poem you’ve created, Lori!
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Thank you, Wynne. Great Aunt Mary always wore lavender, made us tiny cream cheese sandwiches and tea, and cared for our family when we most needed her. I loved her. I wanted to tell you, too, that I have your book , Finding My Father’s Faith, on my reading table. I look forward to reading it!
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Oh my goodness – I’m so honored, Lori! What incredible details about Great Aunt Mary. That’s awesome! Hope you enjoy your weekend!
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💞
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I love six word poems and stories…one of my favorite teaching tools and yours, Lori? I love it! 🥰❤️🥰
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Oooh! can you share your six words format? I’m always interested in new creative prompts. Thanks, Vicki!😊💕😊
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I love that we’re vibing about this! Yes…you’re giving me inspiration to re-share a post about it. Thank you so much…maybe on Monday! And if you don’t mind, I’ll link to your post. I loved learning about you from your beautiful poem. So good! It always worked well to get students to open up. Hugs, hugs, hugs! 🥰❤️🥰
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I’d love it, Vicki! Enjoy your weekend!
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🥰❤️🥰
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Oh dear…I might’ve messed up my reply to you – using my phone. I’ll check again and do a do-over if it doesn’t come thru. 😉
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What a cool exercise!
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Thank you for reading, Marie! It was fun! I hope you write one to share, too!!!
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I love this poem, Lori!!! Thanks so much for sharing the blank structure for us to create, and for sharing YOUR version of the poem!
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Thank you, Anita! I would love to read yours if decide to write it; it’s really a fun exercise that helps you focus and remember. 🩷
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What a lovely poem! Thank you for posting the template. I’ve got it saved for a rainy day.
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Thank you, JeanMarie! I hope you enjoy writing yours as I did. A nice satisfying project, I think. Have a lovely day!
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Refreshing perspective
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Thank you! It was shared by many others, but it is always new for each writer.
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I love this, Lori, and feel inspired to write my own. Thanks for the template. Beautiful poem!
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Thanks so much, Lauren, and I would love to read yours when you’re ready! 🩵💙🩵
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Nice read
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Thanks so much!
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I love your version!
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A beautiful vulnerable truthful poem. And readable. I love it. And thank you for the template! I’ve been teaching my creative writing students (adults) about free verse. This is a good example, with a structure.
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I am loving reading everyone else’s versions. I found it a very enjoyable exercise. Please share yours if you write one! 🥰
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Will do!
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(I linked yours on my blog post today!)
Who I’m From
I was born on a Sunday morning,
the first Neal grandchild,
where church bells summoned worshippers
to the nearby Presbyterian Church.
I am from grandparents Kenneth (in overalls)
and Ruby (in a cotton housedress and apron)
who lived on a farm,
whose front door was just for looks,
from grandma-made patchwork quilts
and a grandma-made brick patio by the back door,
treated when I was little to chocolate frosting on a saltine,
treasures behind a buffet door–toy tractors and horses
and Disney comic books.
I am from Grandma’s rotund barrel cactus
bristling with round barnacles of its own,
the mother one she sold for a dollar
to a farm-to-farm salesman,
right off the brick patio
where he tried to make a sale,
from shelves of canning jars filled with garden bounty,
in an unfinished basement,
next to a room of corncobs for the big furnace,
where I taught Cousin Ken to dance Rock and Roll
with jars of green beans and tomatoes as our audience.
I’m from a Presbyterian youth choir,
singing I Would be a Sunbeam
and When Morning Gilds the Skies,
and candlelit Christmas eve services.
From a grandfather who sang
with the local Methaquakaterian quartet
and each Sunday
counted his grandchildren in the choir.
I’m from clan potluck Thanksgivings,
where we cousins carried plates
full of savory foods
to enjoy around card tables
in Grandma’s sewing room,
and fireworks on Grandpa’s July 5 birthday,
which one time got out of control,
and Grandpa remarked that he’d never seen Presbyterians
move so fast.
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Oh, Joy! This is marvelous! I absolutely love every word of it!
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Bless you, Lori. I had such fun with it!
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