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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