I Am
By Ciara C.
I am humorous and imperfect
I wish that everyone has a good day
I hear a waterfall rushing
I see a fox peering through the leaves
I want to spread all cultures throughout the world
I am humorous and imperfect
I pretend I can fly
I feel love deep inside me
I touch the skies
I worry that I will lose the people that I love
I cry for the less fortunate
I am humorous and imperfect
I understand that nothing can happen unless you try
I say, ¨Believe in yourself¨
I dream of having the wings of freedom
I try to broaden my horizons
I hope that everyone is treated equally
I am humorous and imperfect
Replaced
By William R.
my cousin hits me with the bat.
you take me into your glove,
but there is no shelter.
i am forgotten across the backyard fence.
Powers of the Heart
By Katie L.
There's a certain feeling you get through a special piece of art.
It can be a poem, a letter or a person speaking their heart.
It is something so remarkable, it doesn't happen every day.
But when it does it seldom fades away.
It’s a feeling that shows the good in all and makes you want to play.
It sometimes brings you back to joyful childhood days.
It is something simple, but yet just out of reach.
It makes the world question our dividing breach.
I think if this feeling was at our very roots,
then maybe we could stop and help the destitute.
And maybe, if every moment was treated like a song
we could all just stop our jealousy and begin to sing along.
But maybe I’ve been tricked and this feeling is a lie.
With so much death and suffering how can it comply?
Sometimes I feel so dismal I just start to cry.
It happens when I stare out the window and don’t want to say goodbye.
I feel so lost in worry I can only sigh.
Then it all turns around again when I see the beautiful blue sky.
Suddenly all my worries fade away
and the endless blue carries me far way.
It makes me feel like I’m a part of so much more,
and there is someone watching over me like never before.
I get a feeling that seems quite beyond my brain,
like what I learned in science class just the other day.
I know then that this feeling is coming from my heart.
It leaves me breathless and I don’t know where to start.
Again the tears roll down my face,
for I have discovered the truth that fills my heart with grace.
A House For Me
By Alice O.
A house in the basement, snug and tight,
Just the right size for me.
Under the table, with a lamp as a light,
So that when I read I can see.
A house for me, Yippee! Yippee!
I have a house of my own!
With a bench and a table, and rug on the floor,
Yippee! A house for me!
Signs on the outside, big and bold,
Saying“Keep Out! It’s Mine!”
And if you come in, without being told,
There will be a very big fine.
A house for me, Yippee! Yippee!
I have a house of my own!
With a bench and a table, and rug on the floor,
Yippee! A house for me!
I’m writing a story, about a girl,
Whose name is Elizabeth Dean.
She discovers she’s queen, with a crown made of pearl,
Which never before has she seen.
A house for me, Yippee! Yippee!
I have a house of my own!
With a bench and a table, and rug on the floor,
Yippee! A house for me!
There’s decorations, on the wall,
And flowers are hanging from strings.
The ceiling is white, not too short or too tall.
My house has really cool things!
A house for me, Yippee! Yippee!
I have a house of my own!
With a bench and a table, and rug on the floor,
Yippee! A house for me!
The Solvang Bakery
By Angela R.
The bakery of Solvang
Open and welcoming
A soft, warm glow
Leaking out of the framed windows
The cobblestone path
Made from little rocks
Wedged into the tiny spaces
Leading right to the little shop
Surrounded by stout buildings
A plump rabbit
Wearing a checkered apron
Light pink and white
No stains on it
Living in the glass box on the wooden pedestal for all to see
Absently rolling
A worn out wooden rolling pin across the miniature counter
Forward and back
Again and again
Endlessly
A wooden sign hung from the transparent glass in front of me
The faded white paint spelling “Welcome” against the dark red back
Pushing open the door to the merry sound of singing sleigh bells on Christmas morning
Emerging into this world full of wondrous
Closing my eyes to smell the sweet aroma of
Freshly baked bread
Frothy whip cream
Melting chocolate
Pastries stuffed with fruit
Sweet blueberries
Crisp apples
Shining cherries
Sour lemons
Milk chocolate
Still shining on the tops of the éclairs
Ready to be eaten
The sound of whisks whizzing
Batter sloshing against the sides of the mixing bowls
Knives hitting the board
Cutting loafs into thick slices
Coinstinkling on the white counter
Getting exchanged for soft breads
Strings of dim Christmas lights
Golden yellow
Lighting up the little shop
Cakes displayed in the glass cases
Waiting to be bought
A wedding cake
Four layers tall
Set by the window
Covered in snow white icing
Small pink roses piped along the edge
An elegant, smiling bride
Placed beside her groom
Abouquet of pink roses in her hand
Her handsomegroom resting his arm on hers
Both made of candy
Still staring at everything
A faint call in the distance makes me turn
Pushing the door open to the outside world
The tinkling bells bid me farewell
The bakery behind me
I look back
And remember it
The Ride Home
By Braille B.
He said, “One long and tedious day of work
Resounds in my mind... by it, in the rest,
Part empty, a dismal graveyard resides, those hopes,
And past loves, and plethora of dead dreams,
Show which its inhabitants then their names written
Which well resurrected, carved on the gray stones,
A place where rests much, and my heart which lives;
For in my heart a poem resounds:
The poem is Ozymandias, one of many;
Think on my words, fellow traveler, and wonder.”
Something inside stopped. In my heart
Of that cold ice, frozen and frigid,
The faint and fair song starts now softly.
A Chickadee's Song
By Braille B.
Children showing their toys
With no fear,
People laugh,
Forgetting troubles with
Ease. The world
Loses itself today in
Much-needed happiness; but
I, a bird, flying like a
Leaf on wind,
Go flying into sunsets,
Untethered and unafraid.
Running Away
By William R.
the picture of her face
descended
down
the
stairs.
i heard the cupboards open
and the pots and pans
clanged around like morning chimes.
the picture paused for a moment-
-as if hearing the rustling outside,
but it was just her
body
running away.
My Piano
By Suhrith B.
I remember my first piano
That moment when I laid eyes on it
Tucked away in a world of music
Unimportant
It was not large,
It was not expensive,
It was perfect
I remember my first piano
All those songs I could play
All the awards I could win
All the concerts, all the fame, all the glory
Would I have to sign autographs?
Ambitious
I played my first note
I remember my first piano
My first lesson, my first teacher
I remember setting it up in my closet of a room
A huge tangle of wires, consuming the wooden floor
And then there was the piano
NO! they would say, Itis a keyboard!
I rolled my eyes
To me, it was a piano
I remember my first piano
Glistening in the gloomy darkness of night
It illuminated my life, paved a perfect path for me to take
I played my first song
And though it may not be long,
My soul had poured out onto the keys
My heart had melted for the first time
My spirit overflowed with joy
As my entire life floated away with the notes
Gone with the wind
I remember my first piano
That transported me to another world, faraway
A heavenly place, it was
Like a frolic in the luscious meadows filled with daisies
A dance of hope, of love, of peace
An escape from reality
I let my mind wander
As the concerto of clashing melodies and harmonies
Intertwined as one
I remember my first piano
My first recital, my first duet
I remember the roaring round of applause
It is new every time
Out of awe?
Astonishment?
Respect?
I gave the precious piano my life
But I loved the feeling
I still remember my first piano.
Time sure does fly,
Many years have gone by
New dreams, new goals, and a new piano
To be honest, I have not paid much attention to them
As I sit back and look at my first piano
I see myself
Young, naive, bold, passionate
I wipe off the layer of dust that settled over the keys
I still remember my first note
I take a seat,
My heart skips a beat,
And I take a deep breath.
I am once again the boy at the store
I close my eyes
I play that same first note.
Beauty and the Beast
By Anjani M.
Terra was
the most heavenly of all.
She stood straight and composed
Away from the evil wall.
Man, on the other hand,
was a monster full of spite.
He destroyed anything in his way,
Like a churning tornado with might.
Each step of Man,
was a stab in Terra's heart.
The poor girl wailed,
but bore all the darts.
She expected mercy from him,
After all that she had given:
A platform to walk on,
A road to be driven.
Man was a beast,
so cruel, so harsh.
With every move,
Terra's beauty was sparsed.
But soon Man realized
that Terra was dying.
It wasn't too late
to start trying.
Conserving, preserving,
Terra's beauty,
mending his ways,
improving day by day.
It was important,
for Terra to thrive,
Not only for herself,
For Man's life.
Let's hope, he tries his best,
to save Terra's grass, rock, sand.
A better today, a better tomorrow,
As they walk hand-in-hand.
Listening to the Birds
By Rachelle L.
The sound of a crow
is not the croak of its beak
But the swish of its feathers
as it leaps from the earth