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December 2009 Poetry Contest Winners

by Carter, Kindergarten

Starts in the water
Zoom around like jewels
Sparkly wings
Scatter all over
Swoop swoop
Flying like jewels
Green shiny tail
Dragonflies in the wind

Winter Wonderland
By Tatum, Gr. 2

Stars are filled with songs!
The moon blows in the night.
In the morning my sled makes me happy!
Snow is like a white blanket waiting to be played on!
My house is covered with icicles.
I have frost on my mittens!
I get frozen in the snow!

by Pearce, Gr. 3

The piano roars
It is hungry for music
Hungry for sounds
You play it and
It eats its notes
Hungry for more
It sings its beautiful song
When you play it
And it loves to be played
Loving every minute
Loving the rhythm
Waiting for more
And when you leave
It falls absolutely silent

The Eye’s Blind Side
by Annabella, Gr. 5

We see the birds’ wings flap intensely,
We see the lion roar immensely,
We see the crocodile snap its jaws,
We see the butterfly drink nectar from a straw.
But the eye has a blind side;
It can’t see everything.
Should we do more than sit idly by?
Or could we try to see beyond the eye’s blind side?

The colors of emotion we feel but cannot see
The black hole of sadness that seeps through our body
The bright pink of happiness
That ebbs sadness away
The exploding yellow of excitement
That makes you want to scream

Maybe you can heal the eye’s blind side.
If you know a person -- you know and understand --
You are not blind at all to them
Because they’re a true friend.

Snow Life
By Sam, Gr. 5

Crystalline snow has fallen from the glorious sky.
As I look around,
I notice the rocks,
Gray and foreboding,
Protruding from the bricks
As if to catch the frozen air.
Like a crater in a field of white,
Gulliver in the land of Lilliput.
Tall fountains,
Even higher than the noble rocks,
Dare the snow to cover them.
Begging for a passer-by to sit,
Yet knowing that no one will,
Because of the icy cover,
Obscuring the comfortably shaped wood beneath.

By Tristan, Gr. 5

I see some players coming near
I try to hide, I’m high in fear
I found a ball! One yells to the rest
And I’m thinking; what a little pest!
They whack me around, with their head and feet
And it’s not fun being hit by a cleat
I go from person to person, to and fro
Hoping that they will decide to go
After awhile, they finish their game
But I’m not happy all the same
A crowd of people are coming this way
And one says, “I found a ball! HURRAY!”

Out the Window
By Hannah, Gr. 5

One day, in my house in Maine,
I looked out the window.
There was a young girl,
Holding hands with her father,smiling.
They stopped and played,
In the tide pool
Until she toppled over.
Laughing, her father scooped her up
And swung her around
Until they were both dizzy.
I knew that someday
The little girl would forget
That small moment in time,
But her father would not.
He would keep that memory in his heart,
Treasuring it like gold.

By Nora. Gr. 8

The heart stops beating in the empty body
the mind--long gone
But the heart will love forever,
the memories gone-- the feeling still there.
A long car trip coasting to a stop
The passengers don't want to get out
Or see the engine sputter 'till the end,
But loved ones know--they must.

by Alec, Gr. 8

In sadness, it is my tissue,
every note freeing my body from depression and pain;
It seems as though it could cry for me.

In happiness, it is my canvas,
each chord a different stroke of my not existing brush,
and each song a different shade of color;
it seems as though it could compose anything.

A Box of Crayons
By Zarah, Gr. 8
A piece of imagination from each child,
Kept in a compartment of dreams.
Creativity is picked up from its dusty shelf,
A Trembling hand weaves curiosity into the snow-white loom:
Cuts off strands of doubt,
And puts the fluid engine to a test.
Instantly, a geometric rainbow appears in a field of flowers,
A sky is smeared blueberry pie,
A castle with bricks of gold,
Bridges of silk,
Mosaic monsters of citrus oranges and pungent pinks,
Spinning on neon’s,
Eating a never ending picnic of cupcakes.
And when all is finished,
Left is course white linen,
Made by the hand of an old woman.